Dreaming Back to the Tower of Babel

The monk went inside?

Yan Zhi stared at the mirror-like barrier, speaking in surprise.

An Yi narrowed his eyes, gazing calmly at the barrier as he said, "He's gone. I also want to know what secrets this grand hall is hiding."

As he spoke, An Yi leaped forward and charged straight into the barrier.

"This guy, always so reckless..."

Yan Zhi sighed helplessly, rubbing her temples in frustration.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror-like barrier, still astonished.

The image showed her wearing the uniform of the Law Enforcement Bureau's leader—heroic, graceful, and exuding a mix of beauty and authority.

"Why would I end up as the Law Enforcement Bureau's leader...?"

Yan Zhi let out a soft sigh before stepping forward and following An Yi inside.

Hum!

Deep within the secret realm—

A massive, blood-red eye abruptly snapped open!

The grand palace welcomed new arrivals once more.

A man and a woman—the former handsome but perpetually cold-faced, the latter stunning yet appearing slightly absent-minded behind her glasses.

The striking pair made the white-haired old man beside them stand out even more.

"Old man, why are you here in the secret realm?" Lin Chen asked thoughtfully.

Back when Cheng Yuanfeng had taught him the Art of Qi Control, he had already learned the old man's true identity.

Ranked 29th on the Heavenly Leaderboard, the master of the Qi Control Sect—Cheng Yuanfeng!

Such a ranking was terrifyingly high.

Those in this tier were typically the elders or sect leaders of the Great Xia's top factions, unlikely to venture into such dangerous territory.

Thus, Lin Chen was certain—among all the intruders, this old man was undoubtedly the strongest!

Cheng Yuanfeng looked at him calmly. "How's your progress with the Art of Qi Control?"

Lin Chen raised his hand.

Swirling around his palm were strands of azure wind energy!

Cheng Yuanfeng sighed in admiration. "I only taught you for three days, yet half a year later, you've truly mastered the Gale Force!"

Lin Chen retracted the wind energy.

Technically speaking, this old man was indeed his master.

Cheng Yuanfeng gazed at the grand hall, murmuring, "Truthfully, the Art of Qi Control was brought out from the Hongtian Secret Realm a century ago. Unfortunately, our sect's ancestor only retrieved a fragment of it. This time, I aim to bring back the complete technique."

Su Xue'er scoffed coldly from the side. "Since when was Lin Chen a member of your Qi Control Sect?"

"He learned the Art of Qi Control from me—that makes him one of us. This kid is the last hope of our sect. If you try to steal my disciple, I won’t let it slide."

Cheng Yuanfeng chuckled.

Lin Chen replied indifferently, "I'm not the only one who knows the Art of Qi Control."

At this, Cheng Yuanfeng hesitated.

He had indeed seen others wield the technique.

"An Yi is an exception—that kid's talent is downright monstrous! Back then, I just explained a few key points and demonstrated once, and he grasped it immediately!"

As for how Chen Bing knew it...

He truly couldn't figure it out, no matter how hard he racked his brain.

"Never mind them. I've already appointed you as my head disciple."

Still muttering to himself, Cheng Yuanfeng approached the barrier. Staring at the mirror-like wall, his expression turned grave. "We're here..."

According to the records of the Qi Control Sect's founding master, it was through this very wall that he had entered and learned the Art of Qi Control.

"This barrier..."

Lin Chen was slightly taken aback. In the mirror, his reflection wore black robes.

The face was that of a man in his mid-twenties—less youthful than now, more composed, though his piercing gaze remained unchanged.

Beside him, Su Xue'er glimpsed Lin Chen's mirrored attire, her pupils contracting.

As a member of the Underworld, she recognized what those robes signified...

One after another—

Zhang Fan, Xue Ruirui.

Shangguan Qianqian, Tang Qingqing.

Chen Bing, Mo Jiu, Jiang Cheng, Yang Qianyu, Xue Ming...

Those who had emerged from the five minor realms arrived before the barrier in scattered groups, stepping through without hesitation.

None knew what secrets lay hidden within this mirrored world!

"Remnant of the Night Sect!"

"Kill him!"

"Kill him!"

A scorching beam of light descended.

An Yi slowly opened his eyes.

He found himself in a vast, circular space, surrounded by tiers of seats filled with furious, snarling spectators.

Screams!

Roars!

Curses!

The entire arena was in an uproar.

Staring at the familiar scene, An Yi felt dazed.

Why was he back here?

Had his journey to another world been nothing but an illusion?

Were those two years merely a dream?

His confusion lasted only a moment before his expression steadied.

At present, he was tightly bound to a bronze pillar—a symbol of authority and sanctity—with chains securing him firmly in place.

"Remnant of the Night Sect!"

Hearing that familiar title, An Yi curled his lips into a mocking smile.

So these were the people his Night Sect had guarded for millennia?

"An Yi, do you admit your crimes?"

A golden-haired man with three eyes stepped forward, his bare feet pressing against the ground. The golden pupil on his forehead glared coldly at An Yi.

"Admit my crimes?"

An Yi grinned wildly, his laughter bordering on madness.

"What a familiar place..."

The Tower of Ascension—he had returned here.

The nightmare that haunted him every night had become reality once more.

Except for him.

Beneath the bronze pillars knelt a crowd of people—bound, tortured, and barely recognizable as human. Yet their gazes, fixed upon him, still held a glimmer of hope.

An Yi's eyes swept over them, tears welling up.

An Cheng, An Hai, An Wu—these were all disciples of the Night Gate!

Finally, his gaze settled on an elderly man whose face was marred by dark, grotesque patterns. Shackled in chains, he sat cross-legged on the ground.

No one dared force him to kneel.

The old man met An Yi's eyes, gave a slight nod, then closed his own again.

An Yi fell silent.

This scene—one he had relived in countless nightmares, jolting awake in cold sweat—now unfolded before him in reality.

The golden-haired man, his vertical pupil fixed on An Yi, curled his lips in mockery. "An Yi, remnant of the Night Gate. Do you admit your crimes?"

An Yi sneered, defiance burning in his voice. "Di Feng, is this your idea of extracting a confession through torture?"

As he spoke, dark spiritual energy surged around him, coalescing into two ferocious, writhing dragons in the air.

Night Dragon Dance!

The two monstrous dragons tore through the space, their oppressive dark energy casting a shadow over every heart present.

The prison guards stationed at the periphery froze in terror, collapsing under the crushing weight of the aura.

The twin dragons raged—

But before they could reach Di Feng, a thunderous roar of heavenly lightning reduced them to nothing.

"An Yi, you will not run wild here!"

"Criminal! How dare you act so arrogantly!"

In an instant, the so-called gods revered by the masses struck in unison.

The two rampaging dragons were obliterated in a flash.

An Yi laughed, his smile dripping with provocation.

Di Feng met his gaze coldly.

"Kill."

A single word, spoken with chilling indifference.

A bolt of golden lightning descended from the sky, striking down one of the kneeling Night Gate disciples.

Elsewhere, blades rose and fell in a merciless slaughter.

One after another, the disciples fell like wheat before a scythe—

Heads rolled, blood pooled.

An Yi shut his eyes.

This was the nightmare that had haunted him for years.

Three thousand Night Gate disciples—

Slaughtered before his very eyes.

Experiencing it a second time did nothing to dull the fury.

His gaze, icy as death, lingered on the corpses. Then he lifted his eyes to the figure hailed as a god above, lips curling into a smile.

"Di Feng... you truly outdid yourself."