High above the clouds where mortal sight cannot reach, above even the floating palace islands and sacred bridges, lies the Celestial Hall of Order—a divine chamber that has existed since the first oath between stars and gods was forged.
The hall was not made of stone. It was built from the threads of law itself—filaments of gold and white energy forming walls that pulsed with rhythmic harmony. The ceiling was a dome of endless sky, yet one could see constellations moving across it like thoughts through a mind. Thrones carved from condensed divinity formed a perfect circle around a suspended mirror of swirling astral mist—the Astral Mirror.
Twelve gods sat upon the Circle of Thrones.
Each was different and ancient. They were draped in robes that shifted with elements or concepts they governed—flames, frost, vines, silence, light, shadows, and more.
But none of them were calm now.
All eyes were fixed on the mirror, where the image of Xian Ren, drenched in divine blood, now stood atop the broken Gate of Law.
The sky behind him bled silver.
The corpse of a Domain General fell in slow motion in the mirror, one eye still open in disbelief.
A silence lingered in the hall—heavy, suffocating, charged with disbelief and awe.
Then a voice broke the stillness.
"He has surpassed even our worst expectations," said Shen Ji, the God of Patterns.
His robe shimmered with cascading hexagrams, and his skin was etched with tattoos of flowing formulae. His eyes flickered with nervous calculations.
"The Chrono Lotus Domain? Dual-core soul harmonization? That sword is beyond star-tier. This… this is no longer mortal rebellion. This is—"
"Justice," said Bao Lan, Goddess of Balance.
She sat upright, her eyes calm but glassy with restrained sorrow. Her silver-white robe spread out like wings of starlight, and in her hand she held a perfectly balanced scale that never stopped trembling.
"He loved too deeply," she whispered. "And for that… we called him unholy."
Some of the gods scoffed. One turned his head, another looked ashamed.
Bao Lan continued softly, her words dripping like falling moonlight.
"If fate took what we treasured most… if the heavens traded the soul of our beloved for balance and order… would we not also do the same? Would we not tear it all down?"
Across from her, a growl echoed from a throne shrouded in flame and iron.
"Enough," thundered Jin Wu, the War God.
His armor was forged from fallen suns, and his fists were wrapped in the molten remains of volcanic stars. His expression was thunder—always on the edge of violence.
"Speak of love if you wish, but that man has murdered our generals and spit on the Skyward Oath."
He stood. The temperature in the room spiked instantly. His rage was not like mortal anger—it was the emotion of battle given divine flesh.
"Let me go. Let me kill him with my own hands."
"No," said a serene, layered voice. From the throne in the center—larger than the others, framed by twin halos of law—rose Tian Xu, the King God. But the mirror reflected something else: four blurs of light descending to intercept Xian Ren.
"The Pillars will meet him first."
Far beneath the Celestial Hall, just below the realm of divine administration, stood the Thousand-Step Skybridge—an ancient staircase leading to the Throne Plane itself.
Each step stretched across ten thousand meters, floating in the air with endless sky on all sides. Carved from meteor bone and inscribed with golden mantras of oath and balance, these steps once welcomed only the worthiest ascendants—beings whose power could move stars, but whose spirit could kneel before law.
Today, Xian Ren walked up it with blood on his hands. He was halfway up the Skybridge when space folded.
A burst of divine heat exploded from above—the clouds catching fire—and a figure wreathed in crimson flame dropped from the heavens.
"I am Xu Lie, Flame-Forged God of War," the voice echoed like a furnace cracking.
He was massive. His skin burned constantly, glowing with magma veins. In his hands, he wielded a chained halberd of molten adamant.
"Your judgment has come!"
Xu Lie roared and spun his halberd—a divine weapon that summoned a meteor storm across the entire Skybridge. Dozens of flaming rocks the size of cities descended.
Xian Ren narrowed his eyes then he stepped forward calmly—and raised his palms.
"Wind-Reversal Palms."
He pushed outward not by force nor by impact. It was just a shift.
The flames halted mid-air—then turned around and flew backward.
Xu Lie's own meteors exploded against his armor, shattering it in sparks and molten rain.
Then the space behind Xian Ren warped. A flash of gray light—a ripple in distance.
Another god appeared—Jin Qu, God of Motion and Space, wrapped in shifting geometry, his form almost impossible to track.
His voice was a whisper next to your ear—even though his body was twenty meters away.
"You're predictable. You walk in lines. But I am everywhere."
He struck with a spear whose shaft bent space, attacking from impossible angles.
But Xian Ren twisted without looking. He caught the spear barehanded.
"You always rotate counter-clockwise after teleporting," he said coldly. "I studied your footwork during the Eastern Realm War."
Jin Qu's eyes widened—then his body exploded in rippling distortion as Xian Ren kicked him through folded space.
He flew across three sky-steps before crashing into a divine pillar. Just then, a soft wave of silence swept across the battlefield. The world dimmed even the clouds stopped moving.
The third god descended: Shi Mei, Goddess of Sound and Silence.
She floated gracefully—her skin pale as moonlight, her robes flickering like soft whispers. Her voice didn't come through ears—it pressed against the soul.
"Silence, Xian Ren. I silence your body, your power and your soul."
She struck—not with hands, but with soul-piercing frequencies that targeted the very core of cultivation: mantras, will chants, and divine harmonics.
Even Xian Ren staggered for a moment, blood trailing from his ears.
But then, he sat down cross-legged and calm.
Two glowing orbs appeared behind his back—twins, rotating slowly.
"You silence one chant," he whispered.
"But I… chant with two souls."
His eyes opened, glowing like twin suns.
From his mouth came two simultaneous mantras—one ancient, one newer. The resonance collided with her frequencies.
Shi Mei screamed—her silence turned into chaos. Her domain collapsed as her control failed, and she vanished behind a burst of broken sound.
Now, only one Pillar remained—Min Lao, the Frost God.
He arrived not with power—but with stillness. He walked with bare feet, each step crystallizing the air beneath him.
His breath became snowflakes. His eyes were closed, and from his spine extended an aura of calm so deep, even space refused to move.
He bowed once.
"I do not fight for glory. I only fulfill the balance."
Xian Ren didn't answer. He simply raised his sword. Their clash was not loud. It was… quiet. Like two eternal truths brushing past each other.
Their movements froze time, cracked the sky, shattered layers of spiritual laws. Divine constructs appeared and broke—ice dragons, spirit walls, flame lotuses, all falling into ruin as their battle consumed the staircase.
Yet Xian Ren's body began to burn—not from ice or impact—but from within.
His Soul Flame Lifespan—the divine fuel that kept his power active—was bleeding from his veins. Glowing embers floated from his back as he burned his life to maintain the fight.
One strike then two strikes.
On the third, his sword pierced through Min Lao's shoulder. Snowflakes fell silent and gentle. Each snowflake whispered a different word Regret, Duty,
Balance, Forgive.
Min Lao knelt—then crumbled into a pillar of frost.
Xian Ren, now alone again, continued walking.
His breath was heavy and his arms trembled. Yet his eyes… remained steady.
Before him, above the last of the thousand steps, rose the Celestial Gate—a door of endless light, wrapped in golden vines, guarded not by warriors, but by the will of Heaven itself.
Beyond it sat the Throne of Tian Xu—the seat of the King God, the traitor who had sold Yue Ling'er's soul to another world.
Blood dripped from Xian Ren's hand.
"Almost there," he muttered.
Then he collapsed to one knee—not from wounds, but from burning his lifespan.
His soul flickered and his shadow stretched unnaturally long and the gate began to pulse.
To be continued…