The sky above the Tang Clan's sacred mountain roared.
It was not a roar born of thunder, nor the echo of spirit beasts—but of power. Raw, ancient, engineered destruction. The Spirit Weapon, long hidden beneath layers of seals in the forbidden vault, had finally been brought out.
Crafted under Tang San's direct supervision and at the cost of unimaginable resources, the Divine Heaven-Piercing Ballista stood atop the fortress wall. Forged from the bones of extinct spirit beasts and imbued with sealed divine inscriptions, it required the combined energy of six Supreme Elders to activate. But today, only one elder stood before it.
Supreme Elder Tang Xiu.
Clad in dark silver armor, his eyes blazed with solemnity as he stood on the firing platform. The intruders—spirit beasts and soul masters from the outer plane—approached in arrogance, unaware of the doom awaiting them.
"Prepare!" Tang Xiu shouted, slamming a jade token onto the formation core.
A hum rose, then a screech as the Ballista locked onto its targets. 21 figures of immense power, all above level 95, surged toward the Tang Clan mountain gates. Five of them were 98-level powerhouses.
With a final chant, Tang Xiu released the formation's seal. A golden spear—eight meters long and engraved with runes—fired.
The world split.
The moment it hit, the sky ignited in gold. A vortex of annihilation expanded, disintegrating all twenty-one invaders. Even their souls were ripped apart. The watching elders, disciples, and spies from other factions shivered in terror.
The Tang Clan had unveiled its hidden card.
News spread like wildfire. Every empire, sect, and faction reeled from the revelation. Even Spirit Hall—where Bibi Dong and Qian Renxue ruled with divine might—paused. The weapon was not something even Gods could ignore.
And in the midst of the silence, the Sun Moon Empire made a move.
They sent envoys bearing silken letters and chests of rare treasures, proposing an alliance.
"We offer the hand of the Sun Moon Crown Prince to your noble daughter," the envoy said, bowing.
He stood in the Clan's Hall of Judgment, flanked by guards, while high elders watched coldly.
But no response came from above.
Only silence.
Then a chill swept the hall. Tang San, unseen, had arrived. His presence—divine yet distant—cast a suffocating pressure.
"Did you think I would sell my daughter for alliance and flattery?" his voice echoed like divine thunder.
The envoy fell to his knees, trembling. "Ancestor Tang, this is only for unity and peace. We mean no disrespect."
The silence was broken by a single word: "Die."
A blade of blue-gold light sliced through space. The envoy and his guards were reduced to ash.
The Tang Clan's declaration was clear—there would be no compromise with greed.
Two days later, a storm fell on the Sun Moon Empire.
From the shadows, hidden Tang Clan forces moved. Using teleportation arrays and secret formations, they struck military strongholds and spirit master academies. The sky turned red as over ten million trained soul masters—generals, tacticians, elite warriors—were executed.
No innocents were harmed. Not a single civilian.
But the Empire's power crumbled overnight.
Their empires fell to their knees in fear. Messages flooded toward Tang Clan, begging for mercy, pleading for neutrality.
Tang San said nothing.
Far atop the mountain, in the highest chamber of isolation, Tang San sat in lotus position. His cultivation surged, now peaking at Level 98. Only a true Supreme Godhood stood between him and Level 99.
Before him floated a blueprint—his next spirit weapon, capable of altering fate itself. But he paused.
"Still not enough," he muttered. "The world must remember that Tang Clan does not kneel, and Tang San does not forgive."
End