Witnessing Ding Mingcang being reduced to a mist of blood, the remnant spirit of the Heavenly Dao slowly dissipated its ferocious, colossal face.
The crowd standing below exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes filled with disbelief.
The scene before them was simply too shocking!
"This Heavenly Dao spirit… seems different from what I imagined," Zhao Wendao murmured after a long pause.
"Having developed its own sentience, it may no longer be a pure embodiment of the Heavenly Dao… yet its power undeniably carries traces of the Heavenly Dao’s will," the Sect Master analyzed, narrowing his eyes.
"No wonder one can enhance their cultivation and even comprehend Dao techniques within the illusion realm. If such a formidable existence serves as the core of the formation, it makes perfect sense…"
"Though this one’s temper seems a bit… er… no, I mean—"
Zhao Wendao abruptly cut himself off, instinctively covering his mouth as he glanced around nervously.
He suddenly recalled that Ding Mingcang had been reduced to bloody mist for speaking ill of the entity.
"This one’s temper is indeed fierce, but as long as you don’t provoke it, it won’t intervene… Elder Zhao, rest assured," Lu Ze chimed in cheerfully, defusing the tension.
"Ahem, can you even call that a temper? That’s… that’s the dignity of a supreme being! That old fool Ding Mingcang brought it upon himself. Even if the Heavenly Dao hadn’t acted, I would have!"
Zhao Wendao’s face flushed red as he hurriedly defended the remnant spirit.
After all, he owed his recent breakthrough in Dao techniques to its grace. Gratitude, not resentment, filled his heart.
"Ding Mingcang… got what he deserved. His death was no loss," the Sect Master nodded in agreement.
The fact that a Lingxiao Sect elder had been publicly obliterated with a single slap didn’t faze him in the slightest.
"Zhao Wendao, relay my decree at once—"
"Yes!"
Zhao Wendao formed a seal with two fingers, conjuring a massive sound-transmission array above the Lingxiao Sect.
The Sect Master’s voice, authoritative and stern, echoed across the sect:
"The criminal Ding Mingcang, guilty of deceiving the Sect Master, slaughtering disciples, and defying the Heavenly Dao…"
"Has been sentenced to death!"
"Executed at noon this day!"
The proclamation resounded throughout the Lingxiao Sect.
"In this matter, I too bear fault. Trusting Ding Mingcang’s lies nearly cost our sect a monumental opportunity…"
After the announcement, the Sect Master turned to Lu Ze with a wry smile.
"I owe you recompense, though I’m unsure how to make amends… Very well. For millennia, our sect has never appointed a Holy Son. Given your unique circumstances, I shall—"
"Reporting to the Sect Master, this disciple has no interest in becoming a Holy Son. Studying artifact forging under Elder Nangong suits me just fine," Lu Ze interjected swiftly.
Holy Son?
No thanks.
With his system, he had no need for the sect’s resources in cultivation or techniques—nor any desire to toil for the sect’s benefit.
Under Nangong Yuan’s guidance, however, he could gain invaluable insights into crafting illusion realms.
Unfazed by the interruption, the Sect Master agreed without hesitation:
"If that is your wish… so be it."
"I recall Elder Nangong’s three true disciple slots are already filled. Given his exemplary teaching, he deserves recognition."
"With the position of Second Elder now vacant, Nangong Yuan shall be promoted to Second Elder, and Li Fire Peak shall rank as the Lingxiao Sect’s Second Peak. You shall become Li Fire Peak’s fourth-generation true disciple. Does this suit you?"
Lu Ze nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm, that’s my master’s reward. What about mine?"
"Er…"
The Sect Master froze.
Zhao Wendao and Zhong Yi nearby also stiffened.
Even the usually ice-faced Li Moran nearly cracked a smile.
This was so quintessentially Lu Ze.
"Ahem, your reward naturally remains… Fine, why don’t you name it?" the Sect Master offered.
After a moment’s consideration, Lu Ze replied, "Then have the Lingxiao Sect’s finest materials crafted into an illusion tower for me."
Neither techniques nor artifacts seemed lacking to him.
A top-tier facility would be far more useful—speeding up large-scale illusion crafting while maximizing quality.
He’d once asked Nangong Yuan about the cost of such a device.
The elder had bluntly told him Li Fire Peak’s entire treasury might barely cover it, dismissing the idea as pure fantasy.
"Agreed. Additionally, I shall personally bestow upon you three protective artifacts to prevent incidents like today’s," the Sect Master pledged without hesitation.
"This disciple thanks the Sect Master."
"Oh, one more request."
"Please speak, Sect Master."
"It’s… well… Could you deliver a copy of the illusion tower and spirit crystals to the sect’s forbidden grounds? This old man would like to try it too…"
……
……
In the end, the crisis was resolved without further mishap.
Ding Mingcang’s death sent shockwaves through the sect.
After all, the entire Lingxiao Sect had witnessed their former Second Elder being annihilated in an instant—an unprecedented event among the Five Great Sects.
Soon, the full story would spread, as would news of Zhao Wendao and Li Moran’s breakthroughs within the illusion realm.
Once word got out that illusions could aid cultivation,
Not only would player numbers skyrocket—
Even those elders who once scorned illusions would clamor for a chance to enter.
Because,
Who wouldn’t crave a sliver of fortune touched by the Heavenly Dao’s laws?
Returning to the Spirit Jade Pavilion, Lu Ze hurried into the main world of My World.
There, the Heavenly Dao remnant spirit lounged above his Demon Castle, casually fishing as if nothing had happened.
"Thank you for saving me today."
Lu Ze clasped his hands in salute.
"Humph. A mere ant dared to insult me… Death was inevitable."
"As for you? Consider it incidental."
The remnant spirit didn’t even glance up, its tone as haughty as ever—though its voice now carried a faint, ethereal quality.
"I heard that slap took a heavy toll on you?"
Lu Ze asked with concern.
According to Nangong Yuan, after the seal was broken, one of the already-fractured runic rings surrounding the remnant spirit had dimmed further.
After millennia of erosion, the spirit’s power diminished with every use.
Serving as a "server" at least allowed replenishment through cultivators’ spiritual energy.
But annihilating Ding Mingcang had been a pure expenditure of its dwindling reserves.
This was a thigh Lu Ze needed to cling to at all costs.
Losing his "server" over a fool like Ding Mingcang would be catastrophic.
"It matters not."
The remnant spirit waved it off.
"So long as your plan succeeds, recovery will come swiftly."
Since becoming a server spanning the immortal realm, the karma of cultivators dying within illusions had forged a genuine connection with it.
Though progress was slow, the spirit could feel its eroded Dao essence and laws gradually repairing.
If Lu Ze could increase the "efficiency" of cultivator deaths, today’s expenditure would be trivial.
Moreover, the spiritual energy channeled by cultivators slightly overflowed—
This surplus was stored by the remnant spirit for self-restoration.
In truth,
Should Lu Ze abandon the server project now, the Heavenly Dao remnant spirit would be the first to object.
"So… when will this Heavenly Dao witness your so-called efficiency?"
The remnant spirit of the Heavenly Dao coldly reminded him.
"Don't forget, this Heavenly Dao only gives you one month!"
"You mean that matter..."
Lu Ze smiled faintly.
"One week at most, and you’ll see the results."
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!
