Chapter 146 - CHAPTER 149:Breaking the World!

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The video surged forward, images flashing rapidly, replaying the turning point of an era.

It began with that fateful day—when Shen Lian cut down the five great patriarchs in a single stroke, and Huaxu Dao fell in flames. From that moment on, his name thundered across the entire Cangxuan Realm. The world now knew: the Tai Xuan Sword Sect of the Dayan Dynasty had given birth to a sword god in white, a youth unmatched by any under the heavens.

Envoys from the realm's most revered sects and formidable clans, including representatives of the supreme sovereign—Dayan itself—rushed to offer alliances, treasures, and promises. Shen Lian refused them all, one after another.

Within Tai Xuan Sword Sect, feelings about him were complicated. Shen Lian himself bore no particular affection for the sect, no binding loyalty. But he owed everything to Zhenren Xuanming and Zhao Linger—the two who, on that freezing night long ago, had pulled him back from the brink and placed him onto the path of cultivation. To them, his gratitude ran deeper than any doctrine or oath. Without them, there would be no Shen Lian, no peerless sword god clad in white.

For their sake alone, he remained. In time, he passed down his refined sword-drawing techniques and the supreme sword arts of sect founder Chen Xuanfeng back to Sect Leader Zhuang Changdao. He had received swordsmanship from Tai Xuan, and now he returned it in full. This was karma—the cycle of debt and repayment that even gods respected.

But Shen Lian did not belong to Tai Xuan. His path was never meant to follow another's shadow. Chen Xuanfeng had reached only the realm of false truth; Shen Lian had already surpassed that threshold. To walk that same path would mean repeating history, becoming another echo trapped within Huaxu, never touching the divine.

So he whispered to the world, a voice like a blade drawn across the firmament: My sword has slept in solitude for ten years. When it is drawn, even gods and buddhas must tremble. A thousand gallops may chase a single stream, but I alone stand atop the peak. None may rival me. The decree of the Emperor of Refinement has descended—let the gods be forbidden!

As his voice faded, the images shifted again.

Intent on forging a new road between heaven and earth, Shen Lian left Tai Xuan behind and stepped into the mortal world, carving his name through storms and slaughter. In the East China Sea, long-slumbering remnants of ancient times awakened, emerging from the ocean's depths like nightmares from forgotten eras. These beings, terrifying in both form and power, wielded techniques so ancient their might eclipsed anything the current age could produce. Their wrath swept across the land, drowning sects and kingdoms alike in blood and fire.

Only one stepped forth to face them.

Sword in hand, Shen Lian met their fury alone. The battle raged for three long months, the East China Sea turned to chaos, storms howled, oceans boiled crimson, and the sky warped beneath their clashing might. In the heart of this cataclysm, Shen Lian finally emerged—wounded but unbroken, sword in one hand, the severed head of the ancient remnant prince in the other. There, amidst the shattered battlefield, he mastered the remnants' forbidden cultivation, merged them with his own, and forged a new technique that would fracture the very foundation of the world—Open Yin & Yang. One sword to tear apart all order.

His journey then led westward, across the desert wastes. There, Shen Lian cast aside all cultivation, wandering as a mortal in the vast Gobi under scorching suns and bone-chilling moons. Day and night passed as he sat motionless before the gates of Tianlong Temple, unmoved by time, unshaken by wind and sand. Birds nested upon his shoulders, insects crawled through his robes, and still he did not stir.

Years passed.

A young monk, moved by something he could not name, came each day to shield Shen Lian with a green umbrella. Then, after three silent years, thunder cracked across the desert.

Boom.

Shen Lian opened his eyes.

A divine radiance burst from his body. He had been reborn—not just in form, but in essence. Hair shimmered like starlight, bones glowed with jade-like clarity, and within his eyes swirled the constellations themselves. He stood no longer as man, but as an immortal cast adrift among mortals. His cultivation surged from Huaxu First Stage to Ninth, stepping half a foot into divinity.

From this awakening, he created his second heaven-breaking sword art—Break Heaven and Earth. One slash to bleed the gods and orphan the immortal kings.

That very day, the entire order of Tianlong Temple stepped forth and bowed to him as Holy Buddha. Shen Lian offered only a faint smile before turning away. As he left, he etched a single sword mark before the temple gates—not a threat, but a legacy. One day, should a monk of Tianlong be born with the heart of a swordsman, they may, from that mark, comprehend the essence of his second divine art—Break Heaven and Earth.

The video accelerated again.

Now, Shen Lian departed the Western Desert and turned his steps once more toward Tai Xuan Sword Sect. But before he could return, word reached him: a secret realm had emerged within the depths of the Hundred Thousand Mountains.

"Hundred Thousand Mountains…" he murmured, eyes flickering with sudden light. "Little monkey…"

Boom!

His body exploded into a streak of blinding sword light that tore across the heavens, rushing toward the mountains with thunderous urgency.

"Wait for me!"

At that moment, divine light erupted across the skies of the Cangxuan Realm. Cultivators from every empire and sect ignited their fastest treasures and soared toward the Hundred Thousand Mountains. The firmament itself shuddered beneath their collective might, space torn asunder by sheer numbers.

And among them, the brightest presence—the most formidable—was a titanic warship shaped like a golden dragon's head. Nearly a thousand feet long, its hull forged entirely from Sun God Gold, it shimmered like a solar flame, casting golden light across the earth below. Wherever it passed, the sky cracked open, space itself fragmenting under its colossal weight.

Atop the ship fluttered a black-gold banner, radiant with divine brilliance, inscribed with a single word in bold celestial script:

Dayan.

This was no mere vessel. It was the warship of the Cangxuan Realm's supreme power—

The Dayan Dynasty.

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