The world shook.
In the heart of a shattered realm beyond mortal comprehension, a single drop of Nirvana-blood fell from Teng Xuwan's chest, staining the very fabric of existence. It splashed against a long-forgotten piece of soul crystal buried deep in the Core of the Formation—the one that once tried to refine ten thousand souls… and failed.
Within that crystal, a single flickering star pulsed faintly.
It was Meng Meng.
Trapped.
Forgotten.
But not extinguished.
As Teng Xuwan defied the heavens, rupturing laws and bending reality with the Soul-Shattering Nirvana, something within Meng Meng stirred. Not just memory or pain—but will. A spark long buried beneath layers of death qi and sealing chains.
A voice echoed from within the soul crystal.
"New or Original…?"
The same voice Teng Xuwan had heard.
Meng Meng, despite his fading consciousness, heard it again. This time, it wasn't a choice—it was a catalyst.
Suddenly, chains snapped.
Stars reignited.
His Soul Orb, shattered and cracked, began pulling energy from the Nirvana wave released by Teng Xuwan's defiance. Slowly, three stars reformed, spinning wildly. Then four. Then seven.
From nothing, a violent rebirth began.
Meng Meng's eyes shot open within the void.
His body was gone.
But his soul... was more alive than ever.
His mind screamed with visions—memories of Omiva City, of Meng Ping's smile, of the beam of white soul-extracting light. His hands trembled, but he forced himself upright in the spiritual realm.
He stood atop a phantom sea of consciousness—his own soul domain.
Above him hovered a figure cloaked in divine runes, with no face—only the presence of overwhelming judgment.
"You were chosen once. You failed. You died."
Meng Meng raised his hand. "But I'm still here."
"You defy the cycle. You were meant to be refined."
He looked up, eyes burning. "Then let your cycle be broken."
The figure hesitated.
Then, suddenly—chains descended again. Thousands of them, imbued with ancient law and spiritual suppression, meant to silence a rebirth like his.
But Meng Meng was no longer just a soul.
He was a fractured Nirvana vessel, bearing the chaotic traces of Teng Xuwan's backlash and soul echoes.
The chains struck him—
But they shattered.
Far above, Teng Xuwan—bloodied and burning with Nirvana fire—snapped his head toward the sky.
Back in the depths of the void, Meng Meng opened his glowing eyes.
His form still intangible, but his will now unbreakable.
"Heaven took everything from me."
His voice rumbled through the soul realm.
"Now, I will take everything from Heaven."
Deep within the heart of the broken formation where death qi lingered like a rotting fog, something stirred.
The ancient Soul Refinement Array, once meant to devour and enslave, began to pulse unnaturally. It should have been dormant. Empty.
But now—alive.
A tremor spread across the formation as Teng Xuwan's Nirvana explosion ignited waves of spiritual backlash across space. One fragment of his blood, infused with defiant soul essence, drifted downward and pierced the heart of the array…
It was then that the unthinkable happened.
The thousands of souls still trapped inside the formation, souls refined but not destroyed, suddenly collapsed inward, spiraling toward Meng Meng's dimming core.
One.
After another.
After another.
Ten thousand souls.
All of them, merging into him.
Meng Meng screamed—not from fear, but from agony. His soul orb, already cracked, began to shatter violently. A sound like glass exploding in every direction echoed through the void.
Shatter.
The orb broke completely, but something surged forth from the destruction. A new orb formed, brighter, denser. Four stars emerged from its core, shining with clarity.
But the pain did not stop.
A second wave of energy—born from the force of those countless souls trying to find harmony within him—rippled out.
Shatter.
Again, the orb burst apart.
His soul screamed. His very existence trembled.
And yet—he endured.
This time, a new orb appeared, smaller, but sharper, more refined. It spun slowly in his soul domain. Two stars shone clearly, and beside them—a dim third star, flickering faintly as it orbited.
The world went still.
From the chaos, a voice whispered deep in his mind—not divine, not ancient, just instinctual.
"Three shatters. One path."
"This is Golden Core."
In the world of cultivation, few had ever reached this point. A Golden Core Realm wasn't merely power—it was resilience, the act of enduring destruction three times and being reborn stronger.
Meng Meng's breath was ragged.
He looked at his hands—not physical, but spiritual—and flexed his fingers.
He was no longer the same.
His essence had changed.
He remembered the faces—the screams—the day Omiva City was drowned in white soul-light. He remembered Meng Ping's tears. The hopelessness. The end.
But now… it wasn't the end.
It was a beginning.
He stood within his soul domain. It no longer trembled—it waited. Calmer than before, but deeper. Dangerous.
"So this is what it means… to survive."
A wave of his hand summoned flickers of light, echoes of the ten thousand souls now buried within him. Their sorrow… their rage… all compressed into one will. His will.
No longer just Meng Meng.
He was thousands merged into one.
Far above in the storm-ridden skies, Teng Xuwan, still locked in battle with Heaven itself, suddenly felt a pulse.