"No!!" Duke Long's roar shattered the stillness of the void, his voice reverberating with a fury that seemed to crack the very air around him.
His eyes, filled with cold rage, traced the spot where the grotto heaven had once stood—now nothing but a hollow emptiness. The marks, the faint traces that had once anchored it to reality, were gone.
A deep, seething anger surged through him as he stared at the void.
His expression twisted with contempt.
Blue light enveloped his form, an aura of power, protection, and certainty. But it was fading.
The void, insidious and unrelenting, was eating away at it, dissolving it with a terrifying patience.
In a few short hours, the last of the blue light would vanish, and Duke Long would be nothing but another casualty of the chaos sweeping the world.
"Someone annexed the grotto heaven!" he bellowed, the realization dawning with bitter clarity.
He had tried everything—summoning Lang Ya Spirit's power, tapping into the wills of the ancient Venerables embedded in the Heavenly Court.
He had refined this mosquito Gu with all his might, hoping it would grant him the insight he desperately needed.
But in the end, it was all for naught. No answers, no solutions.
He had failed.
The weight of it hit him like a physical blow.
What is the point of my hibernation, my cultivation, if I cannot even save my world?
His eyes flickered with cold resolve as his mind turned over the possibilities.
If he couldn't find a way to stop this—if he couldn't uncover the secret behind these calamities—then the end was inevitable.
The world would crumble into ruin, slowly, but surely.
He felt it in his bones now: The end of the world was no longer a question—it was a certainty.
And unless he could find a way to halt the corruption, to break the chain of devastation, he, too, would be swallowed by the same chaos.
...
Time, like a relentless storm, swept by in an instant.
Now, the Gu World had become nothing more than a barren, apocalyptic wasteland.
It had been four years since the calamities and tribulations first ravaged the world, and with each passing year, their power had grown—unstoppable, unrelenting.
In the first year, the Earthly Calamity and Heavenly Tribulations descended with devastating force, cracking the very foundations of existence.
The second year brought the Earthly Calamity, Heavenly Tribulations, and the Grand Tribulation, each more unforgiving than the last.
By the third year, the Tribulations had evolved further—the Myriad Tribulation joined the fray, an all-consuming chaos that turned the skies into fire and the earth into dust.
And now, in the fourth year, they had endured the Grand Tribulation and the Myriad Tribulation—each one leaving deeper scars on the land and souls.
The world had already experienced them, survived them—barely. But the question remained: how much longer could it last?
Once, a scholar had theorized that the entire Gu World was being used as a shield for someone undergoing ascension, as a means to protect that being from the destructive forces of the tribulations.
At first, it seemed ridiculous, far-fetched.
But as time passed, the theory had become undeniable: someone—worse than the Blood Sea Ancestor—was behind these tribulations, and the world was paying the price.
The world, once full of life and power, had been whittled away, piece by piece.
In the first year, nearly 10% of the population had been lost to the calamities.
By the second year, more than 30% had fallen.
The third year had been the worst—over 70% of the world's population wiped from existence, and yet, the tribulations only grew stronger.
And now, in the fourth year, less than a hundred souls remained—those who had managed to survive the carnage, scattered across the broken world.
Soon, when the next tribulation hit, no one believed many would be left to face it.
Of those who remained, only a few stood out.
Feng Jin Huang, once a proud heir, had severed all ties to her past—cutting her hair, a silent but profound gesture. Beside her stood Bai Ning Bing, who had long abandoned the arrogance that once defined him, now a shell of the youth he had been.
The others, too, had come from the wreckage of different regions.
A year ago, the regional walls that had separated them had fallen, and the survivors fled into the territories of others.
But the Myriad Tribulation had already taken its toll—countless Gu Immortals had perished, leaving only the shattered remnants of a once-thriving world.
As the tribulations had already ravaged the land, now it was only a matter of who would survive the next—and how many would be left when the end finally came.
...
The reason for it all, Fang Yuan stood silently, his gaze fixed on the ruined world before him. There was no trace of regret, no hint of joy, not even satisfaction.
Only cold determination etched in his eyes.
"Just a final step..." he murmured, his voice steady, yet carrying a weight that only he understood.
His singular goal, the one that had driven him in life and death, was clear: Eternal Life.
In his past life, the world had thrown everything at him—armies of foes, schemes, traps, and the most powerful of immortals.
They had all failed, and yet he had still been defeated.
The world had been his enemy, but in the end, it was his own failure that had crushed him.
But this time, things would be different.
This time, Fang Yuan would not be bound by the same constraints.
His plan had changed.
He would attempt for eternal life not after reaching the peak, but after breaking through to Rank 10.
And this time, he was confident.
Why?