Although the North is vast, Lin Moyu wasn't completely without direction. Using Little Tree and Chaoszi's memories and the location of that place "back then," then comparing it with the present-day North, he could roughly infer where it lay. After the two cross-checked their calculations, they concluded the spot wasn't far from the North's center—about a trillion li north of the center point.
The center point is the coldest place in the North, and the surrounding tens of trillions of li are the same. Even native Northern beings can't approach it lightly. At the same time, the center continually releases a frigid breath imbued with the power of the Dao, making it a cultivation holy land for Perfection experts. The closer you get, the more Perfection experts there are. It's said that around the center gathers over ninety percent of the North's Perfection experts, plus some Chaos great-completion prodigies with extraordinary talent and power.
Lin Moyu did not fear the cold. With the strength of his body and soul, even the lowest temperatures felt like a warm breeze. If even he couldn't bear it, few in the entire Chaos Wasteland could. Once the direction was set, Xiaopeng carried him like an arrow loosed, while Lin also sensed for the grand array the Tianzai Supreme had left behind.
He soon discovered that the array Tianzai had placed was precisely at the North's center. Setting an array there made Tianzai's intent clear: each of these great arrays was designed to draw in high-tier forces of chaos; the one in the North would naturally absorb the power emanating from the center. Tianzai would collect, refine, and compress that power until it became a terrifying strike—the fiercest blow he left for the Dao. The Dao is mighty, but Tianzai Supreme's methods were not to be underestimated.
The North is enormous; even at Xiaopeng's speed it took nearly a hundred days just to approach the center—and that was starting from relatively nearby. If some Chaos minor-completion cultivator tried to cross from one end of the North to the other, it would take at least ten thousand years, with high odds of mishap along the way. There are dangers in the chaos; Lin simply ignored what others could not.
It felt like piercing a membrane: the temperature plummeted and ice-flowers appeared in the void—chaotic qi freezing into beautiful blossoms that drifted through space. The excessive cold had altered the form of the chaos qi; a curious phenomenon, and one that meant they had truly entered the North's center. Here the chaos qi became solid. Chaos minor and great completion could no longer cultivate; only Perfection could. A little farther in, even Chaos minor completion couldn't survive—the cold would kill them. At the very core, even the Dao itself would freeze, and Perfection experts would struggle to live.
Though the center has no formal boundaries, strength is cleanly stratified in practice. Lin picked an ice-flower and felt chaos qi flowing within it. At first only the surface was frozen, but the nearer he got to the absolute center, the deeper the freeze, until even the qi inside the blossom was completely solid. At that point he knew he'd reached a zone where ordinary Chaos great-completion experts could hardly survive—reserved for a few freakishly gifted great-completion and Perfection beings. He still felt nothing more than a pleasant coolness. With a body this strong, the environment barely mattered. Lin became an oddity here: a Chaos minor-completion figure tearing around a lethal region.
Along the way he encountered some Perfection experts. They were surprised to see him, but only glanced a few times and didn't ask questions. Lin also noticed some unusual ice-flowers—the phantoms of Still-Spirit Pearls. Their peculiar waves were influencing many Perfection experts; if even Perfection Dao-hearts couldn't wholly resist the Still-Spirit Pearl, that showed how frightening it was. As Little Tree had said, the pearl's most terrible aspect was its subtle "go with the grain" influence. Northern beings may already prefer quiet to motion; the pearl simply leveraged that, making them stiller and stiller. As the influence seeped deeper, the North Supreme could gently shift their thinking, like a slow hypnosis that felt entirely natural to the affected. Pushed further, he could exert a degree of control. How far along this was, Lin didn't know, but he guessed the infiltration was deep. The North Supreme must have had the two pearls for a long time; his layout was complete—it was only a matter of when to trigger it. Lin felt it wouldn't be long; the looming inter-Extreme war was a perfect chance to harvest blood and souls to complete the last corner of a sacrifice.
Guided by the bearings Little Tree and Chaoszi gave, Xiaopeng darted back and forth through one sector, searching for that place. "It's special," they said. "It isn't in surface space, but there'll be a passage leading to it. The space there is very stable, though the area is small—you'll feel it when you're close. The ice-flowers there may be a touch different—colder than elsewhere, not by much, but distinct if you're careful."
They fed Xiaopeng criteria to sense—sight wouldn't find it, nor raw soul-sense; only by reading subtle changes in chaotic space and heaven-and-earth. Lin and Little Tree searched too. After dozens of days, they finally found something: a patch less than a hundred meters across, where space was more stable than its surroundings. In truth, space varies everywhere in the chaos; this spot was just particularly so. Ice-flowers drifted there as well, and just as Little Tree said, when they crossed this hundred-meter zone they grew slightly colder and their speed changed—slowing—as if some invisible force was affecting that pocket of space.
Xiaopeng shrank in size and moved closer. At the exact center, Lin saw an ice-flower formed from a Still-Spirit Pearl phantom. It radiated a peculiar "keep away" wave that deterred all approach—hence the emptiness. When Lin moved the special blossom aside, he revealed a fingernail-sized spatial channel.
"Found it at last," Little Tree said. "Touch it and you can go in."
Lin lifted a hand, then stopped—his soul sent a warning: danger. The warning wasn't intense, meaning the danger wasn't fatal. "Pity," he sighed. If it were deadly, he might exploit it; if not, it wasn't much use. Little Tree and Chaoszi had said the place itself wasn't dangerous, so the threat must be from elsewhere—very likely a North Supreme or quasi-Supreme's avatar waiting inside, much like when he first arrived in the North.
"It's fine. There'll probably be someone waiting," Lin said. He put Xiaopeng away into his soul world and touched the vortex. He was yanked in at once, shot through a very unusual spacetime corridor, and out the other side. Before his vision even cleared, a massive force slammed into him and hurled him away.
He didn't panic. The force was strong enough to badly injure a Perfection expert, but to him it was just a scrape. With a body like his, even a top Perfection would need tremendous effort—and a potent artifact—to kill him. As he was blasted back, his sight returned—and several razor-cold beams exploded before his eyes. Lin couldn't be bothered to dodge; he let them hit, using the impact to size up the place and the attacker.
It was an ice-man—humanoid but fashioned of ice, clearly not human. Lin didn't know if this avatar belonged to the North Supreme or a quasi-Supreme, but it didn't matter. Its pressure was top-tier Perfection, but its soul wasn't that strong; burning it to death with World-Scouring Flame would be easy—if he had time. The only nuisance would be alerting the owner; if a quasi-Supreme or Supreme came in person, that would be trouble.
"This place is cut off from the outside," Little Tree said. "Whatever happens here won't be known outside."
"Perhaps only he could sense it," Chaoszi added.
Lin understood: neither Supreme nor quasi-Supreme would know what happened here; even if their avatars died, they wouldn't feel it. In that case—kill them.
As his body steadied, more strikes came in from the side. A giant fist appeared and crashed into him before he could react, blasting him away like a meteor. There was another one here. Still calm, Lin turned and glimpsed a shifting phantom that then dissolved into a gust of wind and vanished.
"So my earlier guess was right," he thought. "The North's top beings all have designs on this place. They've each left avatars here—mutual checks and to guard against outsiders. With avatars like these, even someone like the Wine Venerable would be suppressed. If a Supreme or quasi-Supreme came in person, they'd be stopped outside."
The North has one Supreme and two quasi-Supremes, so there should be a third presence here as well.
Space warped beside him; the wind-form attacker reappeared and punched again. This time Lin answered with a punch of his own. At the instant of impact, the foe's fist vaporized, slipped past Lin's blow, re-condensed, and smacked him solid, while Lin's fist hit nothing. The enemy had turned incorporeal as he punched. Lin was launched yet again.
"Interesting," Lin's gaze chilled. The apparent "vapor" wasn't the essence; the foe was switching between the real and the illusory—deep mastery of the Dao of Reality and Illusion.
"With that Dao, one could reach quasi-Supreme. If the true body were here, he'd be hard to handle. But if it's only an avatar…"
Another cold beam came; Lin smashed it aside with a punch and was driven back again. The space was vast—he'd lost count of the distance he'd flown without hitting a boundary. Gas rose around him; the foe turned real to attack again. Lin's will stirred—World-Scouring Flame roared out as a sea of fire, blanketing a huge area. The just-solidified avatar grunted and vaporized again. World-Scouring Flame didn't care whether you were real or illusory—it burned all the same.
Using that moment, Lin steadied himself, stood within the fire-sea, and snorted. "My turn."
He pointed at the ice-man. A Perfection-realm corpse appeared at his side and instantly became ash. "Corpse Detonation!"
Boom—The ice-man exploded on the spot; not only was the body pulverized, the soul was annihilated. Instant kill—just as Lin expected. An avatar looks strong, but the soul is far weaker than a true top Perfection. Against Corpse Detonation, the flesh might endure; the soul would not. In short, he hit like a top Perfection, but defended under that mark. One strike, avatar gone.
Smiling, Lin produced another Perfection corpse. After the last battle he had a dozen or so—flush with resources. The opponent was currently "illusory," but Lin didn't care; he'd already locked the soul. Corpse Detonation doesn't ask whether you're real or not; it just blows you up.
He pointed. "Corpse Detonation!"
Boom—another thunderous blast; the foe dissipated completely into gas. If you're going to be illusory—be illusory forever; don't turn back.
With two avatars down, Lin surveyed the space. "It is big. Where's the other one?"
His eyes flashed; he opened the Eye of the Undead and quickly found the target—farther off, with soul-fire blazing, much stronger than the other two. "That should be the North Supreme's avatar," he thought. "The other two were likely the quasi-Supremes'… or one Supreme, one quasi. In any case, Supremes are more complete—no glaring flaws. Aside from rare exceptions, most quasi-Supremes fall short of true Supremes in soul. They're sometimes called 'imperfect Supremes.'"
He flew over and saw the figure: a man in a blue robe, features indistinct—but the robe looked familiar. Blue robe, green robe, white robe—different colors, same cut and pattern. Lin couldn't help suspecting a connection. The green robe was the Central Domain's Supreme; the white robe, the Upper Domain's Supreme; this blue robe would be the North's Supreme.
"Could it be that all eight Supremes wear the same robe—just in different colors?"
If so, there had to be a reason; otherwise, why the same choice across different races and tastes?
He felt eyes fall on him. Though he couldn't see the face, he felt the being's gaze. The next instant, a chill ran through Lin's soul—his soul world flooded with cold and began to freeze.
"Fire!" he barked. Soul-flames blazed and drove out the cold. In that instant he'd tasted the other's killing intent; had his soul been weaker, he would have died then and there, without a sound. A silent soul-strike—this avatar was far stronger than the last two.
Lin tried to lock on—but couldn't. The foe stood right before his eyes, yet his soul couldn't fix him. He hadn't experienced that since the journey to the Western Pure Land. "His soul stands at a higher tier," Lin realized. Not a matter of raw power, but of level. Lin was invincible within the Chaos realm; the other stood on a higher rung. Even if their soul strength were comparable, the other's vantage was higher. The chaos has its own rules; some tiers can't be bridged.
The blue-robed figure rose, waved his hand, and the world turned blue. A blue rain fell; heaven and earth froze. Ice formed over him; the stabbing cold went straight through Lin's defenses—enough to freeze him to death if given time. He snorted coldly; Ye Yangyan and the Spacetime Soul Python appeared and charged into the rain. Ye Yangyan, in life, had been a quasi-Supreme—though an inner-world quasi-Supreme, still respectable. In Lin's view, one quasi-Supreme should be enough for a Supreme's avatar—especially with the Python and its three thralls. If not kill, then at least suppress.
The reality was otherwise. The blue robe vanished—Lin saw with his own eyes as the soul dispersed and the body merged into heaven and earth—into the blue rain itself. Body fused with Dao: a Supreme's art—melding wholly into the chaos. Wherever chaos exists, the Supreme is present; "so long as the chaos is not destroyed, the Supreme is undying." In truth, Supremes can die; the Dao could kill them. Lin knew the principle: merge all you like—he'd still kill you.
Ye Yangyan pounded the rain, making it falter; the Python twisted space, sending the rain swirling back upward. The blue light only grew more immense; the whole space glowed, temperature plunging. Ice crawled over Ye Yangyan and the others; the rain was freezing them. They burned power to break the ice, but under the glow the freeze sped up while their melting slowed.
Ye Yangyan flared with fire—dragons of flame shot skyward and were shredded by the blue light. He charged into the sky and was hammered back down. A quasi-Supreme—though of an inner world—couldn't even handle an avatar. Lin was surprised. The Python fared worse, already sealed in ice, power halved, movements sluggish; its three thralls were immobilized entirely.
"A Supreme is a Supreme—still hard to deal with. By comparison, that avatar I met upon arriving in the North was being polite—no intent to kill. This one has no scruples; the order must be to kill all who enter."
"Little Tree, pull him out—lock him down," Lin said. If he couldn't lock on, Little Tree could. Though not back to his peak, Little Tree had once stood at it—no worse than a Supreme—and his soul was of the same tier. With his help, pinning the avatar would be no problem.
"On it!"
Little Tree had been waiting. Roots whipped through the void, stabbing into the source of the blue glow. They tore at the layered blue light even as that light froze the roots. But Little Tree's spacetime power made the roots blink through time and space—seeming to be here while not being here. The roots the blue light froze were merely phantoms. The real roots lashed the glow like whips. Both sides clashed midair, neither yielding. Every thread of blue light contained a shred of soul—the avatar's source. Little Tree needed to shatter those threads and force him to re-condense.
Lin flicked a finger; World-Scouring Flame surged up and became a sea of fire, burning souls to aid Little Tree. Under their joint assault, the blue light kept breaking; strands of soul pulled together—finally becoming the blue-robed man again.
"Locked!"
The instant he appeared, Little Tree shouted. Lin pointed. "Corpse Detonation!"
Boom—The blue-robed man exploded; most of the body shattered and the freshly gathered soul was blasted ragged. A Supreme's avatar truly outclassed quasi-Supreme avatars—one detonation didn't finish him. No matter; if once won't do, twice will. Lin triggered another detonation. This time the avatar couldn't withstand it—he was blown to powder.
The blue glow faded. A blue crystal hung in the air.
"Polar Azure Crystal."
Lin caught it—recognizing a top-grade material. The North Supreme had used it as the core to refine this avatar; hence its strength. Now the avatar was gone, and the crystal naturally belonged to Lin. He had no intention of being polite with a Supreme. It wasn't on par with Ancient Ice, but it was still excellent—and he needed materials of every kind.
With the three avatars dealt with, Lin could finally examine the place. The vast space felt like an independent world—perhaps akin to Chaoszi's inner world—with its own rules alongside those of the chaos. It was relatively isolated from the outside—relatively, not absolutely. Not far off, mist welled up, and a palace loomed faintly in and out of view.