Soon, the news swept across the Abyss like wildfire, carried by whispers, rumors, and trembling voices. The tale of what had transpired—of Yun Che's impossible survival, of his overwhelming might, spread faster than any divine decree, shaking even the most secluded corners of the realm.
Fear gripped all who heard it.
Even those who had only witnessed the echoes of his power now referred to him in hushed tones, their hearts weighed down by a dread they could neither name nor dispel. His name, once spoken with uncertainty, had now become synonymous with madness, defiance, and uncontainable power.
Of course, many of the finer details—the most dangerous truths—remained carefully hidden, deliberately omitted from all accounts. The Divine Kingdoms and the Pure Land had silently agreed upon it, for the full scope of what occurred would not only invite chaos but shatter the dignity of their divine lineage. There were things even gods feared to admit.
Yet while the realms trembled…
The Pure Land remained silent.
Amidst its ancient, awe-inspiring grandeur—where divine palaces floated upon seas of stardust, and mountains glowed with eternal light—the atmosphere was not one of peace, but solemnity.
Heavy silence filled the air like mist, draping the Pure Land in an eerie calm. The sky above remained unmarred, the divine gardens untouched, and the celestial towers stood tall in their perfection. But beneath that immaculate surface… something had changed.
Within the deepest chamber of the Eternal Heart Pavilion, three figures stood waiting.
Big Rage, Liu Xiao, and Wan Dao who regain his conscious not too long ago.
Though each bore titles that could shake realms and wielded strength that rivaled the heavens, all three stood respectfully still, their eyes fixed ahead.
For many days since their return, not a single one of them had dared disturb the one they waited for—their lord, the one known to all as the Abyssal Monarch.
And now, at last… he emerged.
Mo Su stepped forward into the light, his presence still commanding, his bearing still regal. His robes, obsidian with crimson edges, billowed softly with each step as if space itself shifted around him.
But something was wrong.
There was no trace of the gray flame that had once burned so fiercely upon his body, no lingering remnants of the terrifying energy that had once brought gods to their knees. That hellish, soul-devouring power… was gone.
And even more shocking— His aura was weaker. Noticeably so.
Liu Xiao, the first to speak, did so with great restraint, his voice low, almost reverent.
"My lord… your aura..."
"I'm fine…" Mo Su began to speak, his voice hoarse yet still carrying the weight of command.
But before the sentence could fully leave his lips—
"Cough—PUCKHH!!!"
A violent tremor wracked his body, and a surge of black-red blood burst from his mouth, staining the pristine floor beneath his feet. The three Ancient True Gods instantly moved, blurring into motion as they rushed to support him, each one extending their divine energy to stabilize their Monarch's faltering aura.
He waved them off with a trembling hand, his breath unsteady, yet his presence still unyielding as he slowly lowered himself onto the obsidian throne carved from starstone and primordial bones.
As he sat down, his gaze seemed to drift—not outward, but deep within—as he muttered, more to himself than to those present:
"That flame… its power… it was beyond my comprehension. But I'm glad… that it was only fused from Yun Che's Divine Extinction Realm strength.Had his cultivation been even a realm higher… I don't think I could have rid myself of it."
The moment his words echoed through the grand hall, they struck like thunder in the minds of the three Ancient True Gods. Big Rage's brows furrowed. Wan Dao's pupils shrank. Liu Xiao's hand unconsciously clenched.
If someone of Mo Su's level—Monarch of the Abyss, ruler above all, unmatched since time immemorial—was this affected by the gray flame… then what chance had Ling Xian ever stood?
Only now, in the silence that followed, did they truly understand how she had fallen. She hadn't been careless. She hadn't underestimated Yun Che.
She never stood a chance.
Had Yun Che brought out that flame again during their pursuit in the Endless Fog Sea, the outcome might have been far more devastating.
"Show me what happened."
Mo Su's voice was calm, but beneath it was a bitterness sharp enough to cut through fate itself.
The three Ancient True Gods exchanged a brief glance, then moved in tandem. Raising their hands, they formed overlapping seals, and divine light surged from their palms, weaving together a massive projection.
Moments later, the space before the throne shimmered, and a massive image unfolded—replaying the events that had taken place within the Endless Fog Sea.
As sometime passes and having watches and comprehend everything that happen, Mo Su whom have remain quiet then said out.
"Prepare for Yun Che's return. When he does… regardless of the outcome… make sure that this time, he never leaves on his own decision again!
The command, spoken in a voice that echoed through the hallowed halls of the Pure Land, was not loud—yet it carried the weight of final judgment. No one questioned it. No one dared to.
And far away—across countless skies beyond realms touched by sun or stars—four figures had already ventured several hundreds of millions of miles into the deepest, most forsaken reaches of the Endless Fog Sea.
Here, the light of the world ceased to exist.
Here, the very laws of nature bent before the madness that was the Abyssal Dust.
Pan Buwang, his gaze solemn, slowly turned his head to observe the shifting veil of blackened gray that surrounded them from all sides. The air here was thick—so thick it no longer felt like air at all, but a living, breathing entity that sought to devour all who dared to tread its domain.
"Such a terrifying Abyssal Dust..." he murmured, his voice barely audible as it disappeared into the gloom. His words weren't said in fear, but in reverence—a recognition of a force far older and darker than anything even a Divine Regent could comprehend.
Had it not been for Yun Che forcibly transforming his body—remaking his very essence to be compatible with the Abyssal Dust—Pan Buwang would have never stepped this far into the depths, not even with all the power he possessed.
And he wasn't alone in that thought.
Beside him, Hua Caili and Qianye Ying'er moved with caution, their auras steady but visibly restrained. Though their bodies had undergone the same transformation, and the suffocating pressure that once made them feel as if they were drowning in darkness had eased, the deeper they traveled, the more the dread crept in again.
It wasn't the same as before—not a crushing, violent rejection of their presence—but it was still there. A faint, lingering cold. A whispering pressure pressing at their bones and minds.
At this depth, it felt as if the transformation had only delayed the inevitable.
And what was more terrifying—this place, this utterly alien domain that warped even the senses of gods—still only felt like the outer edge of the Endless Fog Sea.
It was true that Yun Che had transformed their body—altered their very core to become compatible with the terrifying essence of the Abyssal Dust. But even so, the transformation was not perfect.
At the end of the day, it remained incomplete.
The laws of destruction that governed this place—the deeper, truer laws that had existed since the Abyss was born—were simply too pure, too ancient, too absolute. They did not tolerate impurity. They did not yield. Not even to gods.
While those with divine bodies, like Pan Buwang, Hua Caili, and Qianye Ying'er, could still press forward, it was clear that this ability to continue was not infinite. The further they went, the slower their steps became. Their auras dimmed, their senses dulled, and their hearts grew heavier.
To reach the very heart of the Endless Fog Sea—the deepest depth where light itself was unwelcome—it was not just difficult.
It was impossible.
And along the way, with every silent breath and every echoing step, Hua Caili found her eyes drifting again and again toward Qianye Ying'er.
She didn't speak. She didn't frown. But the thoughts in her heart stirred like ripples in a pond. She had chosen this path of her own will, and she would walk it to the end—no matter what it cost her. She would not regret it. She would not run from it. But even as she accepted that Qianye Ying'er walked beside him too, something within her whispered gently:
"One day… I will occupy more of Yun Che's heart than anyone else. Even you."
She didn't hate Qianye Ying'er.
But she would not lose to her either.
And yet, Qianye Ying'er was too absorbed in her own storm of emotions to notice Hua Caili's gaze.
Every time she felt the overwhelming divine power flowing through her veins—an endless, godlike force that she once believed was forever out of reach—her body trembled faintly. The sensation was unfamiliar. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. And at the same time… it filled her with a deep, gnawing self-pity.
She, who had once been the Brahma Monarch Goddess—regal, ruthless, untouchable—had spent a lifetime clawing her way up the divine ladder. She had plotted endlessly, used those around her without mercy, crushed enemies without remorse, wielded cold cruelty like a sword. Every moment of her existence had been spent pursuing power, chasing supremacy in a world where weakness meant death.
Yet no matter how much she fought, no matter how cruelly she calculated…
She had never succeeded.
And yet, despite all the pain, all the failures, all the mistakes—Qianye Ying'er could not deny this truth:
It had only been less than two decades since Yun Che had entered her life… and today, she stood at the pinnacle of divinity.
A realm she once believed would remain forever beyond her reach.
She, who had exhausted every scheme and gambit the world could offer, now bore the power of a True God—a strength not seized through bloodshed, but given… by him.
A gift she could never have claimed alone.
Up ahead, Yun Che moved in silence, his steps steady and unwavering as he led the group deeper and deeper into the belly of the Endless Fog Sea. His expression, calm as ever, was unreadable, and the pressure radiating from his body—neither violent nor warm—was one that even gods instinctively dared not question.
But eventually, curiosity found a voice.
"Master, where are we going exactly?"
Pan Buwang's voice echoed softly from behind, respectful and cautious, but tinged with restrained urgency. Though he had followed without complaint, even he could no longer silence the unease gnawing at the edge of his heart.
They had traveled far—far beyond any mapped region, far beyond the point where even Divine Regents would dare enter without preparation. Since the last brief pause Yun Che had allowed them, he had continued forward without rest, drawing them into a place where the Fog Sea's oppressive aura grew heavier and more unnatural with every step.
They could not wander forever. Even gods required purpose.
"..."
Yun Che did not answer immediately. His steps did not slow. His expression did not change. Only his divine sense expanded outward—spreading like an invisible net across the chaotic void that surrounded them. It was as if he were feeling for something, not with sight, but with instinct.
Finally, his voice came—low, quiet, almost inaudible beneath the breath of the dust-laden winds.
"It should be… just ahead."
He did not explain further.
And yet, somehow, his words made the Abyss itself feel colder.
Pan Buwang, Qianye Ying'er, and Hua Caili exchanged brief glances. None spoke. None asked again.
The group could only remain silent as they quietly followed behind Yun Che, the oppressive pressure of the Endless Fog Sea growing more surreal with each passing breath. No one spoke, no one dared to question—not out of fear, but because every step forward felt like descending into the breath of something ancient, something watching.
Then, suddenly, Yun Che's voice rang out—sharp, clear, and full of certainty.
"There!"
In the same instant, their divine senses surged forward, and the scene before them unfolded.
Dozens of colossal figures emerged from the thick veil of Abyssal Dust. Their forms loomed like mountains in the haze, monstrous creatures shaped by chaos itself. Abyssal Beasts—each one at the late stages of the Divine Limited Realm, radiating a violent, destructive power that could shake Divine Kingdoms—now stood motionless.
But what was even more shocking… Not a single beast roared. Not a single one charged. None of them attacked.
In fact, since the beginning of this journey into the deeper regions of the Endless Fog Sea, this had been the constant. They had passed ghosts with hollow eyes, beasts with rotting scales and bones, creatures that should have devoured even gods… and yet, not once had any of them struck out.
And it wasn't because Yun Che was controlling them.
It was because, in the eyes of these spectral entities—these remnants of destruction—the beings walking beside Yun Che were no different than they were.
They were not intruders. They were not prey. They were the same.
Soon, as Yun Che led them forward, the monstrous beasts slowly lowered their heads in quiet deference, their massive bodies bowing slightly as if acknowledging a sovereign presence. The group passed between them without resistance, ascending toward a narrow peak that jutted from the desolate earth like a forgotten fang of the Abyss.
Without hesitation, Yun Che moved forward, and the rest followed.
They entered the peak's narrow pass and began their descent into a hidden pathway beneath it—a passage marked not by carved stone, but by barriers and woven seals of power. As they moved, each barrier they passed resonated faintly, then parted as threads of divine aura flowed from Yun Che's body.
These were not foreign defenses. These were his. One after another, the barriers dissolved without resistance, their power melting and fusing with Yun Che's presence like water returning to the sea. Each seal, each pathway, was something he had left behind—remnants of a time before, echoes of steps taken long ago, waiting only for his return.
Soon, the group reached the bottom of the cavern—a vast, hollow space swallowed in thick, swirling Abyssal Dust. The air here felt heavier than anywhere else they had passed, as if the dust itself held memory, resentment, or perhaps a kind of hunger. There were no sounds, no echoes, only the oppressive silence that pressed against their skin like invisible chains.
Before them stretched an empty chamber, wide and perfectly still, yet the tension in the atmosphere was unmistakable.
Each of them extended their divine sense, sending it forward like blades of light into the darkness.
And then—
"There seems to be something there?" Hua Caili's voice was soft, uncertain, but her eyes narrowed with a quiet seriousness as she raised her hand, pointing toward the very center of the cavern.
A subtle shimmer—barely perceptible to the eye—lingered in the space she indicated.
"Immaculate Barriers?" Qianye Ying'er's golden eyes glowed faintly as she turned sharply to Yun Che.
"Yes."
His answer was calm, composed, but the weight it carried made the air around them feel even more suffocating.
Without hesitation, Yun Che walked toward the seemingly empty space. As his figure approached the unseen walls, his soul power surged silently. There was no explosion of light, no violent collision—only the soundless resonance of power meeting power, like a whisper stirring the stillness.
And then, the illusion broke.
Cracks formed in space, like fine lines running across a sheet of invisible glass, and with a faint pulse, the concealment shattered. The barrier peeled away layer by layer until something began to reveal itself at the center of the chamber.
A floating profound ark—small, almost absurdly so—hovered in place, suspended in midair as though untouched by time. Its size was so minuscule that it could fit upon the tip of one's finger, yet the weight it radiated was beyond measure. It was not just a vessel—it was a secret, one buried beneath countless veils of divine power and protected by legions of Abyssal Beasts.
Both Pan Buwang and Hua Caili stared in stunned silence. They had never seen anything like it.
To think Yun Che had hidden something of this nature in such a remote, forbidden place, buried beneath so many impossibly powerful barriers, guarded by creatures at the peak of the Divine Limited Realm… And yet, not a single mention of this ark existed in the entire recorded history of the Abyss.
"What is it...?" the question hung silently between them.
But even without an answer, one thing was certain.
Whatever it was that Yun Che had hidden here—
—it was not merely important.
It was something meant never to be found by anyone else except Yun Che.
"What is it, Big Brother Yun Che?" Hua Caili asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity and awe as her gaze remained fixed on the tiny floating ark that now hovered calmly in Yun Che's palm. Despite its small size, it exuded an aura that stirred something ancient in the air around them, something they could neither name nor understand.
Yun Che looked down at the miniature vessel, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if the weight of memory stirred within him.
"It's..." he began, but before the words could fully leave his mouth—
"It's a Primordial Profound Ark," Qianye Ying'er's voice cut in, cool and clear, edged with just the slightest trace of mockery. "You've never seen one before?"
Her golden eyes flicked toward Hua Caili and Pan Buwang, her tone carrying no malice, but the pride and superiority were unmistakable. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. The sneer lingered beneath the softness of her words like silk hiding a blade.
And in truth, it wasn't surprising.
After all, the woman who had once been the Brahma Goddess—now transformed directly into a Perfect True God under Yun Che's divine hand—had more than just power. She had pride. She had legacy. And now, with her ascension, her ego too had evolved beyond that when she was just Brahma Goddess or Yun Qianying.
At her request, Yun Che had already created a new mask for her, concealing her face once more beneath a layer of flawless divine fabric. Yet even now, despite the veil, one could feel the intensity behind her gaze.
Had the mask not been there to contain it, the fire burning in her golden eyes would have scorched the very air between them. They had never even heard of a Primordial Profound Ship was laughable.
"....."