What Lin Moyu treats as routine looked utterly outrageous to the Primal Chaos Gem: using self-detonation to refill soul-power. Who else would do that? Absurd as it seemed, it worked. Each rebirth restored Lin Moyu's soul to a perfect state, pouring vast soul-power into the Domain Gem so it could duplicate domains and create domain avatars. But duplicating nine domains demanded a colossal amount of soul-power; Lin Moyu blew himself up again and again. The only pity was the cooldown between explosions—otherwise this would also be an excellent way to temper body and soul.
Grumbling about how over-the-top it was, the Primal Chaos Gem still watched with shining eyes, studying every detail. Back in the Heaven's First Vortex he'd only glimpsed the surface because of the Life-Forbidden Zone's interference. Now, with Lin Moyu "courting death" right in front of him, he finally saw details he'd never seen before.
This rebirth talent was tied to time. What the Gem saw wasn't "rewind to a moment before death," but restoration using that moment as a reference sample—and that "moment" could be traced back without limit. Time was sliced into countless nodes; from different timespaces and regions, it searched for the master's optimal state and used that as the template for restoration. Moreover, after enough deaths, it even produced enhancement.
"Heavens… what kind of talent is this?" he thought. It wasn't normal. Heaven-and-earth allow defiant things to exist, but not this defiant. Yet heaven-and-earth showed no reaction. Thus the Gem inferred Lin Moyu's rebirth talent sits at a tier higher than heaven-and-earth; the world does not punish what is above it. That also fit a nagging memory about Lin Moyu's true identity—something he could no longer recall. When he'd glimpsed "that life" of Lin Moyu, sheer fear had surged up and he'd blurted, "How could it be him?" Later, all information had vanished—which was the most terrifying part. That was why, after that incident, the Primal Chaos Gem had become so obedient. And the more he watched this talent, the more shaken he became. A wild thought even came: if the time-trace reached far enough, beyond the prior life of the prior life, could it restore to that Lin Moyu? If so, what would the reborn Lin Moyu become? He cut the idea off—too dangerous—and kept studying. He was sure he hadn't misseen: rebirth was copying the most recent peak state, but there were layers he still couldn't parse. This had already surpassed his comprehension.
Within the Domain Gem's radiance, nine brand-new domains gradually took shape. They were slightly smaller than true domains, but otherwise almost identical—even their aura matched. The nine avatars felt like blood-siblings, while the nine original domains each still had their own distinct flavor. To fulfill Lin Moyu's plan, the Domain Gem altered its process: the copies were founded entirely on Lin Moyu's soul-power plus Heaven's First Qi, borrowing nothing from the originals and causing no impact to them.
All told, Lin Moyu rebirthed nearly a thousand times during the duplication.
Lin Moyu noticed the Gem's odd look. "Something on your mind?"
A chuckle. "I was studying your talent during those revivals. It's… time-related."
"I know," Lin Moyu said. "It restores to the nearest intact node before death."
"You knew!" the Gem blinked.
"I figured it out back in the West Extreme. As you said, that isn't the root. I don't know the root, but it doesn't matter. If a talent works, that's enough. The rest we'll learn eventually."
"True," the Gem smiled. "With enough strength, all unknowns become known. Ignorance is just insufficient power."
"Carry on," Lin Moyu said. "Let's start round two."
Because each domain avatar's origin was Lin Moyu's own soul-power, stamped with his brand from the outset, he didn't need to refine them afterward—saving a lot of effort. The Domain Gem went back to work; Lin Moyu again became the source, feeding soul-power endlessly. He died over and over. This time the Gem didn't bother researching; there was nothing more to learn.
At last the second round finished: eighteen avatars pulsed with near-identical auras, like one domain seen through slight distortions. Apply the Balance Gem, and even those tiny differences would vanish. These avatars were not recognized by heaven-and-earth—they were "counterfeits" as far as the rules were concerned. In reality, though, they existed, could hold Daos, and could evolve life. This loophole was possible only because the Calamity Scepter already exceeds heaven-and-earth.
Lin Moyu exploited the loophole and kept copying. The sole hard cap was quantity: each domain could produce at most nine avatars. Unchangeable.
Round three. Round four… Round nine.
After nearly ten thousand rebirths, nine rounds were complete: a full eighty-one domain avatars appeared. The sight would have scared any Calamity Supreme senseless.
Watching, the Primal Chaos Gem finally changed phrasing: "Utterly deranged."
He'd seen many heavens with domain-and-rule structures similar to the Ancient Wilds. No one had ever done this. Lin Moyu's approach was, indeed, mad.
Lin Moyu, pleased with the result, said, "Time to return to the Ancient Wilds—and push the Great Calamity to its climax."
Those centuries had yielded more than nine perfected domains and eighty-one avatars. His understanding of heaven-and-earth had deepened; he now grasped what an calamity-bearer could and should do. The calamity was the chance for top beings to become Transcendents—not only for the likes of Calamity Scepter's former master and Dao, who had surpassed Calamity Supreme already, but also for Calamity Supremes and Quasi–Calamity Supremes: they too might break through.
Paths differ; opportunities differ. The Primal Chaos Gem had seen three broad ways to become Transcendent:
1. The Vow Path: set a vast vow to serve heaven-and-earth during the calamity; by fulfilling it, ascend. It's real but often yields the weakest Transcendents—and the vow must be repaid. Fail, and you're punished: from heavy realm loss to outright fall.
2. The Fusion Path: sever seven emotions and six desires, cut yin and yang, leaving the purest self; then, while the rules stand open during the calamity, merge with heaven-and-earth. This produces a mid-tier Transcendent.
3. The Power-Proving Path: fight and slay your way to the peak, defeat all rivals, force open the gate with supreme might, and step up. Among Transcendents of the same world-tier, these are the strongest. Hence its nickname: the Highest Path.
From this Lin Moyu concluded: the Vow Path remains under heaven-and-earth; the Fusion Path stands level with it; the Power-Proving Path stands above it. All can refine and rule a heaven, but their standing differs.
For himself—and for Lin Mohan—the only fit was the Power-Proving Path. Yet he himself did not intend to become the Ancient Wilds' Transcendent. He had Yushen Heaven & Earth and was already its lord. When Yushen faces its first Life-and-Death Tribulation and becomes a living heaven, if his strength is ready at that very first moment, he could rise there—a method even stronger than the Power-Proving Path. Of all worlds the Gem had witnessed, only the legendary Heaven-Sundering Emperor had done this—and he ascended late, near the tribulation's end. Lin Moyu aimed to do it at the beginning, to steer the calamity and become even stronger. A Transcendent's ceiling depends on the world's tier; Yushen was very strong, perhaps seven-cycle or beyond. If so, he might become the first Transcendent born in a heaven of seven cycles or more, surpassing the Heaven-Sundering Emperor, step into the Life-Forbidden Zone with flesh, even enter the Wall of Heaven-and-Earth to probe the ultimate secret.
For now, though, he was the calamity-bearer of the Ancient Wilds, and he would do what a calamity-bearer must. "Sister, I'll send you to Transcendence."
Brimming with confidence, Lin Moyu brought his domains out of Yushen and back to the Ancient Wilds. Ninety domains appeared at once, shaking the world. World-rules swept across them: the nine originals were recognized—they'd always belonged to the Ancient Wilds, only absent for a time. As for the eighty-one avatars, the rules passed over them; they weren't native domains and thus weren't acknowledged. That was exactly what Lin Moyu wanted; acknowledgment would have meant trouble and possible failure.
"Begin," he barked.
The Hidden-Spirit Pearl was driven to the limit; the Balance Gem on the Calamity Scepter shone, blending Lin Moyu's aura into the surroundings. As the calamity-bearer, anything he did would draw the rules' attention—never smooth: ambushes, attacks by powers, perhaps even Dao itself. A Calamity or Quasi-Calamity Supreme barging in mid-breakthrough would be normal—and an enemy.
He'd planned for that: Hidden-Spirit Pearl as the base layer; Balance Gem as reinforcement. Still not enough, so the Domain Gem shed a soft glow across a billion miles, fabricating a false domain-space. With all three, the rules' interference would be greatly damped. Trouble could still come, but the odds dropped.
Little Tree, the Chaos-Seed, and Xiao Peng stood guard. Lin Moyu laid a grand array; the Primal Chaos Gem wielded the Calamity Scepter as the array core.
All was ready. Lin Moyu drew a deep breath and unsealed.