"He... does not... qualify...? He does not... deserve it...?!"
Murmurs rippled like thunder across the Sacred Platform.
The Monarch's words—calm and absolute—shattered the silence like a divine hammer against the hearts of all present. In the moments that followed, disbelief gave way to chaos.
"HE DOES NOT QUALIFY OR DESERVE IT?!"
"WHATTTTTTTTTT?!"
A roar of confusion erupted like a tidal wave across the platform. Voices clashed, disbelief cracked like lightning in the air, and the spiritual pressure of thousands surged as tempers flared and minds tried to make sense of the incomprehensible.
The very foundation of the Dreamweaver Sacred Platform trembled under the weight of the outcry. Profound light flickered wildly across the formations etched into the divine marble, reacting to the overwhelming storm of emotions.
And it wasn't just the Sacred Platform—
The entire Dreamweaver Divine Kingdom shook under the sheer weight of collective confusion and outrage. Skies that had once been serene and dreamlike began to churn with pressure, the clouds warping under the clash of spiritual fluctuations from countless shocked powerhouses. In distant cities and floating realms, cultivators looked up in horror, feeling a divine fear pressing into their very bones.
The words spoken by the Abyssal Monarch—words that should have been final, unquestioned—made no sense. None.
How could this be?
Meng Jianyuan… does not qualify?!
He have Perfect Divine Essence! There was no being more compatible with godhood than he—none more worthy of inheriting the Dream God's Source!
And yet…
The one who ruled the Abyss itself, the being who sat above all, had declared otherwise.
A storm of spiritual unrest and indignation rolled across the highest realm of power as the cultivators, gods, and divine elites tried—and failed—to comprehend what they had just heard.
If someone with Perfect Divine Essence isn't qualified to inherit godhood… then who is?!
Was the Abyssal Monarch truly saying that even with Perfect Divine Essence was not worthy to receive a God Source?
Then why—why had he directed the Dream God's power to someone else?
To Meng Jianxi?
Someone who possessed only Nine Levels of Divine Essence—a realm considered excellent, yes, but clearly beneath his brother's perfection?
This couldn't be real. It didn't make sense. The entire platform trembled not just from divine might, but from the tidal wave of disbelief crashing through the hearts of every onlooker.
"Your Majesty… this… this…"
Meng Kongchan's voice caught in his throat. His words faltered, unable to pass through the chaos gripping his heart.
Just moments ago, the very power of the Dream God, was to be passed down to his beloved son — Meng Jianyuan, bearer of Perfect Divine Essence, his pride and hope.
But in the blink of an eye, that power was taken.
Redirected.
Stolen by no one other than the Abyssal Monarch himself — using a sacred artifact forged from the true origin of the Dream God. And its target? Not the one he had raised and prepared… but Meng Jianxi.
Why…? Why would he do this?
"Your Majesty…"
Even Meng Jianxi, now standing as a newly ascended God at the base of the Sacred Platform, could not comprehend what had just occurred.
He should have been celebrating.
He should have been kneeling in gratitude, overflowing with joy and reverence.
Instead, his eyes trembled with confusion, his mouth slightly open, no words able to form.
He stood frozen, just like everyone else. Speechless.
Stunned.
Utterly lost.
Today was meant to mark Yun Che's ascension — the moment he would step into godhood and take the mantle of leadership over the Dreamweaver Divine Kingdom.
It was to be his day.
His brother, Meng Jianxi, was never meant to stand in his place. Jianxi was not meant to become the next Dream God. So why? Why had the Abyssal Monarch redirected the Dream God's Source into his body?
Confusion roared through every heart present like an unstoppable storm. Countless brows furrowed, expressions twisted with disbelief as the crowd tried to make sense of the impossible.
Not only had the Monarch declared that Yun Che was not qualified...
He had gone even further — he said Yun Che did not deserve it.
He doesn't deserve it?
What does that even mean?!
Back at the Pure Land Meeting, the entire Abyss had witnessed it — Yun Che's unmatched strength, his unfathomable talent, and the abilities that shattered every known boundary of cultivation.
He had stood above all his peers like a sovereign among mortals. His power defied logic. His mastery of profound laws tore through common understanding. And layered atop it all was the mythical Perfect Divine Essence — something believed to appear only once in countless eons.
With such talent… such perfection… such destiny…
How could he be the one who isn't deserving?
It wasn't just confusing — it was unthinkable.
Yet the words had been spoken by the one being no one could question.
And in the wake of that judgment, all that remained was a sea of disbelief, silent rage, and stunned silence.
Even Dian Jiuzhi, the Boundless Rage Divine Regent — a man known for his strained relationship with Yun Che — couldn't hide his reaction.
His usually sharp, unwavering expression faltered. His eyebrows twitched uncontrollably, and the corner of his lips tightened ever so slightly, betraying his inner turmoil. Even he, who often questioned Yun Che's temperament, talent, and influence, couldn't deny the absurdity of what had just taken place.
All across the Sacred Platform, cultivators, elders, and Gods alike were racking their minds, desperately searching for some hidden reason—some unseen truth that could justify what the Monarch had done.
As for the High Priests, their shock lingered only for a moment longer. Slowly, deliberately, they steadied their minds.
The Abyssal Monarch was not a being who acted on emotion.
If he had spoken such heavy words — that Yun Che was unqualified, that he did not deserve the Dream God's power — then there had to be a reason. A reason hidden from even their ancient sight.
Though the three High Priests understood and acknowledged Meng Jianyuan's qualifications — his Perfect Divine Essence, his unrivaled performance in the Pure Land Meeting, his countless feats of power — they could not ignore the Monarch's decree.
So they began to shift their state of mind, preparing themselves to listen rather than question. For a moment like this, only the Monarch's truth could settle the chaos.
And then, like pieces falling into place, the minds of the Ancient True Gods arrived at the same chilling possibility—
Did the Monarch see something they had missed?
The memory struck them all like lightning:
Back when Meng Jianyuan had been rescued from the hands of the Fog Monarch, there had been something deeply wrong.
At that time, the Fog Monarch was actively possessing his body.
A truth so disturbing that no one dared to speak of it since. Yet now, with the Monarch's judgment descending like a sword upon them, that memory rose back to the surface—clear, cold, and terrifying.
Could it be...
That the Abyssal Monarch saw something within Yun Che that they, even as Ancient True Gods, could not?
Even though Meng Jianyuan's body had already been scanned multiple times by the most powerful experts present—each time confirming that no trace of the Fog Monarch remained—the three High Priests didn't utter a word of objection.
They didn't need proof.
They trusted their Lord — the Abyssal Monarch — without question.
In the very next breath, the air itself seemed to groan as three towering barriers erupted outward, each one laced with divine might far beyond comprehension. Formed by the hands of Ancient True Gods, these barriers overlapped with the Monarch's existing seal — his had suppressed all divine senses, but theirs went even further.
Space itself was locked.
No sound. No energy. No divine will could pass through their domain now.
As long as the three High Priests stood…
Nothing would get in. Nothing would get out.
Above the Sacred Platform, the once-majestic skies had turned cold and heavy, the atmosphere weighed down by power and fear, shaken by the collective actions of the Abyss's mightiest. The crowd dared not even whisper, and the cultivators scattered across the Divine Kingdom fell into breathless silence beneath the combined pressure of the seals.
And amidst it all…
Yun Che stood still.
He inhaled deeply, slow and steady, but his lungs felt hollow. His gaze lifted, fixed squarely on the figure seated above all others — the Abyssal Monarch.
Without Li Suo's constant purifying presence within him, the chaos in Yun Che's heart and mind had grown unchecked. Emotions clashed violently inside his soul — rage, confusion, betrayal — none of which he could silence.
Seeing the three High Priests act without hesitation… Seeing them support the Monarch's decision so swiftly…
A frigid chill crept into Yun Che's chest.
His blood felt colder.
His breath heavier.
"It… can't be … right?"
The thought drifted through his mind, feeble and uncertain.
And just then—
A hand, trembling softly, grasped his own. It wasn't like before — not filled with warmth and comfort alone. Now, it carried a faint nervousness, a quiet fear.
The hand belonged, of course, to Hua Caili.
Though she now stood as a newly ascended God, her joy was incomplete — fractured. The person who should have stood beside her as an equal… did not.
And the man who now stood above all, the Monarch who should have overseen their rise together… had shattered that path.
She didn't understand why.
But she knew. Something was deeply wrong.
"Big Brother Yun Che… everything… should be alright…"
Hua Caili's voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but in the silence that gripped the Sacred Platform, it reached Yun Che's ears like a trembling thread of comfort. Her words held no certainty—only a desperate hope as she tried to console him… and herself.
"Un…"
Yun Che nodded faintly, his gaze sharpening as he forcibly gathered his spiraling emotions. He took a slow breath, steadying the storm within, then stepped forward and bowed low toward the highest seat of honor — where the Monarch still stood, unmoving.
Those eyes — once gentle and unreadable — now stared down at him with a coldness that pierced through bone and soul.
Yet Yun Che's voice remained calm and respectful.
"Your Majesty… if I may ask… why did you say I am not qualified… or undeserving of the God's power?"
His words carried no anger, only confusion wrapped in restraint — like a blade dulled by reverence. But within him, the uncertainty clawed at every fiber of his being.
Beside him, Meng Kongchan took a step forward as well, his heart heavy and his face pale.
"That's right, Your Majesty… why did you…"
His voice faltered, but he pressed on.
As a father, his soul was torn.
He loved both of his sons — he had watched them grow, trained them, dreamed for them. But between the two, there was no question in his heart: Meng Jianyuan was the one with Perfect Divine Essence, the one whose strength, destiny, and potential far exceeded his peers.
The one who should have inherited his divine legacy.
And yet…
Before his very eyes, that legacy had been stripped away — handed to his other son, Meng Jianxi, without warning or explanation.
His heart screamed with questions.
And still, the Monarch stood silently — unreadable, cold, and unshaken above them all.
Standing tall above all, his eyes cast downward toward Yun Che below, the Abyssal Monarch remained motionless, his divine presence like a frozen abyss suppressing every whisper, every breath across the Sacred Platform.
Then, finally—he spoke.
His voice echoed like the toll of an eternal bell, each word carrying the weight of absolute judgment:
"Yun Che, the reason for my actions… don't you, yourself, already know it well?"
The moment his words fell, they rippled across the Sacred Platform like thunderclaps, sparking an eruption of chaotic thoughts among the gathered gods, elders, and cultivators.
Shock spread like wildfire.
Whispers and murmurs filled the air as countless eyes shifted back and forth between the Abyssal Monarch and Yun Che.
"Meng Jianyuan… should already know why?"
Confusion surged.
Disbelief trembled in the divine aura of even the calmest elders as they tried to process the Monarch's meaning.
They had expected an explanation. A reason. A truth hidden from their ancient eyes.
But instead…
The Monarch turned the answer onto Yun Che himself.
Yun Che, still standing at the center of the platform, felt his mind reel.
His thoughts were spinning, crashing violently against the cold wall of the Monarch's words.
"What… what does he mean…?"
What reason could there possibly be?
What was it that the Monarch saw — that Yun Che himself had somehow failed to see?
?????????
Yun Che, upon hearing Mo Su's words, suddenly sank into a whirlwind of thoughts—thoughts that had never dared to cross his mind until now.
No, that wasn't right.
They had crossed his mind before.
Many times.
He had just chosen to bury them—deeper, darker—each time they resurfaced.
But now…
Now those thoughts returned, more relentless than ever, clawing at the edges of his consciousness like a nightmare he could no longer suppress.
It should be impossible.
He had hidden everything. Concealed every trace, every anomaly, every fragment of truth.
He made sure of it.
No one should have been able to uncover it.
Yes—Mo Su, the Abyssal Monarch, was familiar with the Heretic God's power. That was unavoidable. As a being who stood at the apex of the Abyss, he would naturally recognize the legacy within Yun Che's body and know that he was the inheritor of the Heretic God.
But the other truth…
His true identity…
That—should have remained buried.
Should have remained unknown.
And yet…
Mo Su's next words shattered the illusion completely.
There was no longer any room to doubt.
"To inherit the True God's God Source," the Monarch began, his voice calm and absolute, yet heavy enough to shake the heavens,
"One must not only possess at least the Eighth Level of Divine Essence… but must also carry the bloodline bound to the source."
A hush fell across the platform.
No one dared to breathe.
"In this case, for the Dream God's Source… the soul must also be tied to the Meng Clan."
He paused, then looked directly at Yun Che—his gaze cutting through flesh and bone, as if gazing straight into the truth behind his soul.
"But as someone who is not of the Meng bloodline... you would never have been able to inherit its power anyway."
The words exploded like thunder.
Not just across the Sacred Platform, but across the Dreamweaver Divine Kingdom.
Stunned silence. Everywhere.
Shock. Doubt. Disbelief. Yun Che… is not of the Meng Clan? The foundation of everything — shattered in a single breath.
Wherever the Monarch's voice reached across the Dreamweaver Divine Kingdom—whether it was within the floating palaces of ancient sects, the sacred lands of cultivation, or the humble towns nestled under the divine sky—an all-consuming silence fell.
A silence birthed from shock.
From impossibility.
For what the Abyssal Monarch had just said… could not be real.
His words didn't merely raise questions—
They shattered identities.
Was the Abyssal Monarch truly saying that Yun Che…
Was not Meng Jianyuan?
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The entire Sacred Platform quaked—not from physical impact, but from the collective eruption of stunned souls.
"Your Majesty… what are you saying… WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!"
At first, it was a mere whisper—Meng Kongchan's voice, cracking with disbelief.
But in the very next instant, it became a thunderous roar that shook the heavens above the platform.
His face twisted with raw emotion, his eyes immediately turned bloodshot—reddened not from rage alone, but from betrayal, denial, and the kind of heartbreak that only a father could feel.
He—the Dreamless Divine Regent, the one who had raised Meng Jianyuan with his own hands, watched him grow as he returned, nurtured his cultivation, entrusted him with the future of his Divine Kingdom—was now being told that the son he had loved and protected… wasn't his?
How could the Monarch say this?!
How dare he!
Meng Kongchan's divine aura surged wildly, reacting to his emotional storm, causing even the air around him to tremble with oppressive pressure. Cracks began to spiderweb across the marble beneath his feet as his cultivation fluctuated with dangerous instability.
He staggered forward.
He was not just shouting—he was already raising his arm, his finger trembling as he pointed it toward the very ruler of the Abyss.
The very being no one in the world dared to confront—
But at this moment, reason was gone.
"You're wrong! You must be wrong!"
That was what his soul screamed.
Because if what the Monarch said was true…
Then everything—everything he believed in—was a lie.
"Kongchan!"
Beside him, Hua Fuchen swiftly reached out, grabbing Meng Kongchan's trembling arm before he could take another step forward. His grip was firm, not out of force, but out of urgency and brotherhood.
In the next breath, his voice entered Meng Kongchan's mind directly, laced with both warning and worry.
"That's the Abyssal Monarch you're speaking to!"
The weight of that truth hung heavily in the air.
Hua Fuchen's gaze then shifted, turning back to the center of the platform—back to Yun Che, standing silently beside Hua Caili.
Everything that had transpired in mere moments had completely shattered the foundation of what they had prepared, what they had planned for, what they believed in.
All of it—torn apart by the Monarch's words.
His declaration had not only rewritten the fate of two brothers…
It had undone the hopes of two Divine Kingdoms.
Hua Fuchen took a deep breath, suppressing the tremor in his own soul. No matter how shaken he was, now was not the time to act recklessly. They needed to remain calm.
They needed to endure.
Though many among the seated divine guests glanced toward Meng Kongchan with clear dissatisfaction at his outburst—some even frowning at the sheer audacity of raising his voice to the Monarch—none openly rebuked him.
Because… they understood.
They may not have agreed with his reaction. But they understood.
Meng Kongchan was a man who had once been a God. A being whose soul, refined and sharpened through the True God Realm, had touched the edge of eternity.
How could someone like him—who once bore the weight of a God's soul—mistake another for his own son?
It was unthinkable.
What the Monarch had claimed… was beyond comprehension.
To Meng Kongchan… to everyone who knew the truth of his bond with Meng Jianyuan…
It felt utterly unfounded.
And yet… it came from the one being in the Abyss who could not be questioned.
Of course… not everyone shared the same outrage.
"…This is interesting…"
Dian Jiuzhi, the Boundless Rage Divine Regent, sat with an ominous gleam in his eyes — one filled not with confusion or indignation, but with a flicker of barely restrained madness.
He was entertained.
To him, this unfolding disaster was like a divine play — one far more amusing than any spectacle he had seen in ages.
If what the Abyssal Monarch said was true…
Then this so-called grand wedding, with its fanfare and legacy, its gathered gods and sacred vows, would amount to nothing.
And more importantly…
If Yun Che wasn't Meng Jianyuan—if he wasn't truly the son of Meng Kongchan.
That meant Dian Jiuzhi could take his long-awaited revenge for what happened back then.
He licked his lips, his divine aura restrained but brimming with bloodlust just beneath the surface.
Meanwhile, at the peak of the platform, the Monarch—Mo Su—remained unmoved.
He made no attempt to stop Meng Kongchan's desperate cries or his disrespectful gestures.
Because he understood.
He knew well the kind of pain Meng Kongchan was feeling. He too was struggling—struggling against the tide of emotion and conflict that brewed within.
But in the end… Yun Che had crossed a line.
A line even he, the Abyssal Monarch, could not forgive. Ling Xian's death. Yun Che had taken her life. And that… that was something Mo Su could not look past.
No matter how much kindness remained in his heart toward the heir of his Big Brother…
That one act… broke everything.
He had no choice.
Revealing Yun Che's true identity outright would create ripples far too vast—perhaps even irreversible. So instead…
He had chosen this wedding. This gathering of Gods. This moment…
To expose Yun Che — not with words, but with undeniable truth.
"Meng Kongchan… he is not your Meng Jianyuan."
The Monarch's words rang out with solemn finality, crashing down upon the Sacred Platform like a divine verdict—one that stunned the heavens, silenced gods, and shattered the hearts of many.
Meng Kongchan's body stiffened instantly, his breath caught in his throat as he stood frozen in place—held tightly by Hua Fuchen, whose grip grew more strained by the second.
Even with his power no longer divine, the force Meng Kongchan now struggled with was born not from cultivation… but from a father's desperation.
"Your Majesty… what are you saying…"
Beside Yun Che, Hua Caili's voice rang out — soft, trembling, barely more than a whisper amidst the overwhelming silence.
But it pierced like a cry within a storm.
"Big Brother Yun Che… he…"
She couldn't finish. Her words were fractured, caught between disbelief and the aching tremble in her chest. Her entire body had been trembling ever since the Monarch first spoke. Now, her knees felt weak, and her soul felt as though it were collapsing inward.
None of this made sense. None of it felt real.
Yet the words of the Abyssal Monarch echoed endlessly in her mind.
Meanwhile, Meng Kongchan's trembling figure grew more frantic. He struggled harder and harder in Hua Fuchen's hold, his eyes locked onto the young man standing just meters in front of him—Yun Che.
He didn't see a stranger. He didn't see a fraud.
He saw his son.
Meng Jianyuan.
His aura…
His soul…
His voice…
His every habit, his every look…
All of it screamed the truth.
That was his child.
How could the Monarch say otherwise?!
Memories surged violently through Meng Kongchan's mind—raw, heavy, blinding.
Hundreds of years ago, he had knelt beneath the cold stars, praying night after night for the safe return of the child he had lost. When Meng Jianyuan vanished, his world was left hollow.
Decades passed.
Then—less than ten years ago—his son returned.
Alive. Whole. Strong. Radiant.
Returned with a brilliance so overwhelming, it reignited the light in his soul and brought pride not just to him, but to the entire Dreamweaver Divine Kingdom.
Yun Che—Meng Jianyuan—possessed talent that shook the Abyss, a temperament honed by suffering, and strength that even gods could not ignore.
He had walked the world as a blazing sun—his light reaching even the deepest corners of despair.
Yes, there had been accidents along the way. The incident with the Fog Monarch had shaken him. Had shaken all of them.
But still…
This young man—standing right before his eyes—was his son.
In heart, in soul, in every possible way.
How?!
How could the Monarch say he wasn't?!
How could he say… Yun Che wasn't Meng Jianyuan?!
Meng Kongchan's voice did not rise again—his throat was too tight, his heart too crushed.
All he could do now was stare, eyes wide, soul collapsing under the weight of a truth he refused to accept.