With the monumental task of absorbing the Golden Tide Clan now in the capable hands of his retainers, a rare and welcome period of quiet settled over Li Yu. He was not one for idleness, but the recent, chaotic chain of events—the battles, the revelations, and the terrifying, uncontrolled display of his own power—had left him with a profound need for introspection. He had a new body, a new level of power, and a host of new questions about the nature of his own soul. It was time to find some answers.
He retreated to a specially prepared, enclosed cultivation chamber deep within the Golden Shell headquarters. It was a simple room, carved from solid bedrock and reinforced with silencing and energy-dampening formations, a perfect, isolated space where he could explore his newfound abilities without fear of interruption or of accidentally leveling the entire building.
He sat in the center of the room, the silence a heavy, comforting blanket. For the first time since his breakthrough, he turned his full, analytical attention inward, not to cultivate, but simply to feel.
The change was immediate and profound. His body, which had always been a vessel of incredible strength, now felt different. The 9th stage, the Celestial Leviathan Form, was not just a quantitative leap in power; it was a qualitative shift in his very existence.
The cultivation technique described the 9th stage as the peak of the mortal physique, a state of perfect harmony between flesh, bone, and spirit. But what he was experiencing felt… more. It felt stronger than the technique described.
He could feel the faint, golden light that now seemed to be an intrinsic part of his bone marrow. He could feel the explosive, coiled potential in every muscle fiber, a power that felt less like cultivated strength and more like an innate, biological reality.
The most startling discovery, however, was the change in his connection to his leviathan soul. Before, controlling the soul had been a process guided by the intricate pathways of the Leviathan Heart Sutra or the specific mental triggers of his soul techniques like Death's Roar. It was like a pilot in a cockpit, pulling levers and pushing buttons to command a vast, powerful machine.
Now, that distinction was gone. He could feel no cockpit, no levers. The boundary between his physical body and his nascent soul had blurred into a hazy, shimmering, interconnected state. His soul was in his flesh, and his flesh was in his soul.
When he focused his will, he found he could now control the colossal, sleeping leviathan in his sea of consciousness not with a technique, but with a simple, physical flex of a muscle. He clenched his fist, and he felt the soul clench with it. He took a deep, physical breath, and he felt the soul draw in a tide of spiritual energy.
'It would seem the secret to controlling my soul better was never through the sutra,' he thought, a sense of profound revelation washing over him. 'It was through my body.' His cultivation path was one of body refining through one technique and spirit cultivation through another.
It would seem that his body refining technique was the secret to unlocking his soul. His body was not just a vessel for his soul; it was the key to unlocking its true potential, the interface through which he could finally, truly command it.
With this new understanding came a pressing, terrifying question. That roar. The time freeze. The silent, absolute annihilation of hundreds of cultivators. Was that a new ability he now possessed? A controllable weapon in his arsenal? The thought was both exhilarating and horrifying.
He knew he could not test it here. Even this reinforced chamber was not a safe place. He left the headquarters, his movements silent and unnoticed, and flew deep into the desolate, uninhabited coastal mountains several hundred miles to the south. He found a barren, wind-swept plateau, a place of stark, lifeless rock where he could unleash his full power without fear of causing collateral damage.
He stood in the center of the plateau, the wind whipping at his robes, and closed his eyes. He focused his will, reaching deep into his spiritual sea, trying to replicate the exact conditions of that night.
He recalled the desperation, the hurry, the all-out, reckless command he had given to his soul to unleash its full, untamed fury. He pushed his will into the leviathan soul, commanding it, with all his might, to ROAR.
A soundless wave of pure soul power erupted from him. The air for a hundred yards around him shimmered and distorted. The very rock beneath his feet groaned, a network of hairline cracks spreading out from where he stood. It was a terrifying display of power, an attack that would have instantly incapacitated any Core Formation expert caught within its blast.
But time did not freeze. The wind continued to howl, the clouds continued to drift across the sky. The world continued to turn, unaffected.
He tried again. And again. He pushed himself to his absolute limit, pouring every ounce of his spiritual energy, his will and soul into the technique, trying to recapture that specific, world-breaking resonance.
He tried until he was completely drained, his spiritual sea a dry, empty basin, his body aching with a profound exhaustion and his head hurting from the excretion. But the result was always the same. Immense, devastating power, but no temporal stasis.
Finally, he sat down, breathing heavily, and accepted the truth. 'It was a one-off,' he concluded, a strange mixture of disappointment and profound relief washing over him. 'Something that happened only because all the conditions were perfect. The desperation of the moment, the reckless, all-out push of my soul's power, and most importantly, the exact, critical moment of my breakthrough into the Celestial Leviathan Form. It was a perfect, unrepeatable storm.'
The terrifying, world-ending power was not a tool he could wield. It was a cataclysm he had survived. The knowledge was sobering, but also a source of immense relief. He did not want a weapon he could not control.
He spent the rest of the day recovering, slowly replenishing his spiritual energy. When he had returned to his peak, his mind turned to the final question. The roar had been a unique event, but his breakthrough was a permanent change. How much stronger had he truly become? There was only one being he knew of who could give him an accurate answer.
He returned to his chamber in the headquarters and immediately entered the Koi Sanctuary. He flew through the vast, inland sea, past the now-contented beasts swimming, past the house-sized Lapis Lotus Seed still trapped in its bizarre cage of void, and landed on the dark, sandy shore before Khaos's ledge.
"Khaos," he called out, his voice respectful. "I need to test my strength."
The two massive, razor-sharp pincers that were the only visible sign of the ancient entity emerged from the shadows. There was no verbal response, but Li Yu could feel a sense of ancient, grudging acknowledgement as though saying to hurry it up.
'It is time,' Li Yu thought. He focused his will, not on a technique, but on a simple, physical command. 'Merge.'
The change was instantaneous. The colossal, sixty-foot-long leviathan soul flowed from his sea of consciousness and seamlessly, instantly merged with his physical form. There was no flash of light, no surge of golden energy, no glowing eyes.
From the outside, he looked no different. He was still just a slender young man standing on a dark, sandy shore. But inside, he could feel it. The power of the soul and the power of the body were now one, a perfect, harmonious union. He was no longer a pilot in a machine; he was the machine.
He looked at the massive, shadowy form of Khaos. He took a single, deep breath, planting his feet firmly in the sand. He did not summon his staff. He simply drew back his right fist, his newly reforged muscles coiling with a terrifying, contained power.
He punched.
The air in front of his fist did not just move; it compressed, it solidified, it shattered. A perfect, invisible cannonball of pure, kinetic force. It was a simple, artless, physical punch, imbued with the full, integrated power of his cultivation, Celestial Leviathan Form and his nascent soul.
The blow struck the shadowy mass of Khaos. There was no explosion, no grand display of energy. The force of the punch simply… vanished, absorbed into the entity's being as if it were a raindrop falling into the ocean.
For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, Khaos's cold, ancient voice echoed in his mind.
"Getting better."
Li Yu waited. There was usually more.
Another long pause.
"…Almost good enough to no longer be called little boy."
A final, almost grudging addendum.
"Almost."
Li Yu stood there, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face.