Inside a chamber located at the heart of the secret tunnels, a chrysalis—hued in a blend of deep, blackened violet and pale, bleached gold—pulsed with two distinct auras: one pitch-black, the other golden, rippling outward like solar flares.
Minutes passed, and cracks began to spiderweb across the surface of the chrysalis, revealing an intense, brilliant white light from within.
*Crack... crack... crack...*
*BOOM!*
Three minutes after the first fissures appeared, a violent explosion rocked the entire space. Dust billowed, filling the chamber as the floor and the walls of the base shattered.
"So, the fusion is finally complete. Yet, my power hasn't increased in the slightest—I remain stuck at the rank of 'Master of Rulers.' What a cruel irony!"
Tom's voice remained calm amidst the swirling smoke, laced with a cold, self-deprecating mockery—a frustration born from his continued inability to unlock his true strength.
As the dust settled, Tom's naked form was revealed. His physique was powerful and flawless, entirely devoid of any defects or congenital imperfections. Every ailment and physical flaw had vanished, leaving no trace behind.
Tom cracked his knuckles, and a wave of light emerged from his own personal void dimension, wrapping around his body and manifesting as clothing to cover his bare skin.
He let out a deep, heavy sigh, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings with an expression that held a flicker of relief.
"I've finally survived. Step by step, I will discover who I am—and I will become the strongest of all." "The phase of laying the foundation has ended; now it is time to ascend to the summit—not merely in terms of power, but in the understanding of the self, the world, and its mysteries—transcending everything to attain true freedom."
Tom offered a faint smile, then headed out of the base.
Upon reaching the gate, he paused, murmuring in a low voice—tinged with a sense of uncertainty regarding the unknown future that lay ahead:
"A chapter of the trials to prove one's worthiness for absolute power has concluded. It is time to write a new one—to discover the power I have earned through my own perseverance."
He departed the base, reflecting on the five previous trials and the events that unfolded after he completed the first three.
............................
In the garden of the palace's northern wing—the private quarters of Zihua Minghua—she was busy watering her flowers, humming the very same melodies that Alessandra had sung during the third trial.
Suddenly, a wave of unease washed over her. She looked up toward the sky, her smile marred by a flicker of anxiety.
"I hope you are safe—so that I may tell you that I am carrying your daughter."
Zihua Minghua's tone held a complex blend of inexplicable worry and the quiet joy of knowing she would finally become a mother after all these long years. Yet, fate had other plans.
A look of shock crossed Zihua Minghua's face as the sharp, unmistakable scent of blood suddenly permeated the air. She turned around, only to find Jiao Yao Li, covered in grave, life-threatening wounds. Zihuaming Hua's expression shifted to one of shock; she dropped the water pail and rushed toward him at lightning speed. In a split second, she was by his side, helping him sit down on the ground.
Tears streamed down her face as she desperately tried to treat Jiao Yaoli's injuries—but to no avail, leaving her consumed by a profound sense of despair.
Resting his head on Zihuaming Hua's lap, Jiao Yaoli raised a hand—its bones exposed, colored in a haunting blend of bleached gold and blackened violet. He gently wiped away her tears, then spoke in a weary, fading voice, as if breathing his very last:
"My dear Zihuaming Hua, do not worry. We shall meet again—though not for a long time."
Jiao Yaoli pulled a piece of paper from his pocket—stained with patches of dried blood—and handed it to her.
"Follow what is written here, and I promise you I will return. We will reunite our family—you, me, and our daughter. I shall name her... *cough, cough, cough*... well, never mind. Her name is written on the paper. And know this: our daughter will be no ordinary child; she will possess power equal to mine from the moment she is born—though, in life, she will also endure great suffering..."
Zihuaming Hua placed a hand over Jiao Yaoli's lips, offering a faint smile that masked a deep, aching pain. She had intended to surprise him, but he already knew. Yet, the fact that he would never see their daughter grow up—that was what pained her the most. She had lived with him since she was twenty—and remained by his side until now, after countless years had passed. How, then, could she possibly go on living without him?
Yet, upon reading the note, a faint smile graced her lips. Jiao Yao Li's eyes—long since devoid of their light—closed, signaling the end of her life.
"Take care of yourself, my dear. Do not worry; we shall meet again. I promise you that."
.......................
In Alessandra's private residence, following the conclusion of the second test, she walked with steady, deliberate steps toward Beatrice's chambers.
Upon arriving, she knocked on the door several times.
*Knock... knock... knock...*
She then entered Beatrice's suite and switched on the lights.
Roused by the sudden illumination, Beatrice sat up in bed, gazing toward Alessandra with a weary, childlike expression.
"What is it, Mother? Isn't it quite late?"
Beatrice's voice was heavy with fatigue; she did not notice Alessandra as she drew near.
Reaching the bedside, Alessandra climbed in and pulled the covers over them both. She drew Beatrice close, tucking her head against her chest, and began to gently pat her hair.
Beatrice's expression shifted to one of surprise. Although she was accustomed to such embraces, Alessandra rarely visited her at night—usually being occupied with her duties until the very late hours. "Beatrice, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I am so proud that you are my daughter, and that I am your mother."
Alessandra's tone was calm, as it always was, yet filled with deep affection for Beatrice. Beatrice, however, said nothing; she remained silent for several seconds before looking up with a charming, childlike smile.
"I love you too, Mother."
Beatrice's voice was brimming with happiness as she embraced her mother, and the two remained in each other's arms.
Meanwhile, at the summit of Mount Hua Lian, Zhao Li He stood at the summit, his expression unreadable. With steady strides, he headed toward his hut; moments later, he reached his dwelling and opened the door.
Waiting for him were his ten children—who, hundreds of years later, would come to be known as the Ten Emperors.
Among them were Zhao Yong, Emperor of the Rising Sun; Zhao Bing, Empress of the Desolate Moon; and Zhao Bingying, Emperor of Demonic Ice. Also present were the others, including Zhao Jinwu, Emperor of the Sacred Void, and Zhao Yaosong, Emperor of Hellfire.
He let out a deep sigh, then walked over to them, gently stroking each of their heads before tucking them into their respective rooms. Each room accommodated two of his children, arranged by the order of their birth—for instance, the Empress of the Desolate Moon and the Emperor of the Rising Sun shared a room.
Once he had settled each of them into their beds, he sat down in a chair and murmured in a low, soft voice:
"Love is neither a flaw nor a weakness. When a demon falls in love, he becomes more dangerous, not weaker—for he now has something to lose, and he would set both heaven and earth ablaze to ensure he never loses the one he loves."
Zhao Li's tone remained calm. He closed his eyes to rest, a faint smile gracing his face. .............................
In a chamber situated midway through the tunnels, Xiao Qing and Feng Li Wu sat on the floor, gazing at each other for several minutes before Xiao Qing finally broke the silence:
"The difficult phase is over; only two tests remain. The fourth and fifth tests will be 'trials of merit,' and this time, we—rather than the test master—will be the ones conducting the examinations, won't we?"
Xiao Qing's tone was calm, her expression blank—a look mirrored exactly on Feng Li Wu's face.
"Yes, we will be the examiners. I shall oversee the fourth test, and you will oversee the fifth. But a defeat this time would mean our end, so we must win at any cost."
Feng Li Wu's voice remained steady.
As a white light flooded the space, they declared the commencement of the fourth test.
"Xiao Qing, let's meet again once the tests are over."
"Very well. If we survive, we shall meet. Good luck with the fourth test."
...................
As for Tom, who was heading back toward the exit—retracing the path by which he had arrived—his steps were firm and filled with a sense of ease. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders, leaving him as free as a bird soaring across the world, unencumbered by any constraints.
"The path toward achieving my goals is not entirely clear; it remains shrouded in mist, riddled with obstacles and hardships. Yet, perhaps that is how it should be—for what is easy is not always beneficial, and what is difficult is not always bad." "Relying on cosmic forces to solve everything is useful, but it hinders one's personal growth—no matter how powerful one might be. One must train and strive, remaining ever committed to the path of evolution."
Tom's tone was calm as he emerged from the tunnels, shielding his eyes from the sunlight.
"From this day forward, the purpose of my existence shall be, above all else, to know myself—to ascend to the pinnacle of power and transcend it."
Tom's resolve was unyielding. His goal was worth risking his life for. This marked the beginning of his journey of self-discovery—to learn who he truly was, or who he would become—and to do whatever it might take to achieve that end.
Above the base located at the heart of the secret tunnels—the very site of the 'Dungeon of the Waterfalls of Tears of Joy'—stood a gateway adorned with intricate carvings. These depicted dragons and a war waged centuries ago: a conflict between creation and annihilation, between construction and destruction.
A man with long, white hair stood there, accompanied by four others: two with white hair—one possessing violet eyes like his own, the other with blue eyes—and two with black hair and black eyes.
With them were several others, including a giant orc, six dragons, and demon lords from various races. Nearby, a young man—his black hair streaked with strands of white—stood alongside his team and a large group of allies. They faced a figure clad in black, who radiated a potent aura of destruction. Flanking this figure were twelve creatures of diverse origins, all wreathed in that same dark, ominous energy. At the center of the scene, the Sword of Destruction collided with the Sword of Creation, and the gateway began to crack, bit by bit.
BOOM!
As the cracks spread until the gateway reached the point of collapse, it exploded, dissolving into an ethereal dust—a blend of deep, dark violet and bleached gold—before vanishing from existence. This signaled that the fates of Tom, Zhao Li, and Alessandra had been irrevocably altered, and that the world itself had undergone a radical transformation.
The world was no longer what it once was; for when the origin shifts—even in the slightest—the world follows with monumental changes. It is much like the course of a river: shift its direction by just a few millimeters, and the outcome could spiral into a great catastrophe—or, conversely, lead to something entirely different.
Yet, the winds of destiny buffet the boat of life upon the sea of time; they do not blow from a single direction, but shift—now from the east, now from the west.