From the crystalline brilliance of the Light Basin and the solemn counsel of the Central Emperors, Haotian turned his path south. Beyond the glittering seas and coral banks lay the Obsidian Depths—a world few had dared to enter, and fewer still had returned from.
This was not merely a fissure beneath the sea. It was a wound that plunged deep into the marrow of the world, where Earth chi condensed into crushing density, warping both stone and space.
And somewhere within, the map marked a faint glow: an Earth Heavenly Treasure.
Haotian descended into the Southern Sea, pushing through endless leagues of water until the light of the surface dimmed. Darkness thickened around him, broken only by glowing fissures of black stone that pulsed faintly with molten veins. The deeper he went, the heavier the pressure grew, threatening to collapse even his Sovereign-forged body.
Finally, he saw it—a yawning trench lined with jagged obsidian walls, plunging down into eternity.
"The Obsidian Depths…" Haotian murmured, his voice muffled by the weight of the sea.
The descent was treacherous.
From the walls crawled strange creatures unlike any he had seen before. They had the shapes of serpents, but their bodies were crystalline black, their scales jagged like shards of glass. Their eyes glowed faintly with molten cores, and when they opened their jaws, they spat out streams of compressed Earth chi that burned and crushed simultaneously.
One surged at him with a screech.
Haotian's palm flashed, a golden rune erupting into a crushing wave of force that shattered the beast into shards. But almost immediately, three more emerged, their screeches reverberating like grinding stone.
"They… are born from the Depths themselves," Haotian muttered, eyes narrowing. "Living fragments of the Earth's marrow."
He pressed onward, fighting as he descended. Each monster tested him, their bodies tougher than steel, their strikes filled with the density of mountains. Yet each time he slew one, the earth itself seemed to shudder in faint approval, as if acknowledging his right to pass.
At last, Haotian reached a cavern where the pressure was so immense even his bones creaked. His aura flared wide, golden scales flashing faintly across his skin just to keep himself intact.
Here, he began constructing the array.
Golden runes etched themselves into the cavern walls, digging deep into the obsidian stone. At first, the Depths resisted, fissures splitting open as if to swallow his lines whole. But Haotian stood firm, his chi surging in relentless tides, forcing the sigils to stabilize.
The air rumbled as the Earth chi vortex formed, dragging in the crushing essence of the Depths until the cavern pulsed with a single, bound rhythm.
"Eight down."
But before leaving, Haotian turned deeper into the cavern. His eyes locked onto a faint glow hidden within the obsidian. With a strike, he shattered the stone wall, and a crystalline object slowly emerged—glowing faintly with layered brown and gold light.
The Earth Heavenly Treasure.
Haotian's gaze softened. Later… once I ascend, this will temper their bodies and deepen their dao comprehension. The foundation of the Five Elements will be theirs as well.
With a sweep of his hand, he sealed the treasure back within layers of protective runes, concealing it from others until his return.
Only then did he cloak the array, hiding it from discovery, and ascend from the crushing abyss.
The Obsidian Depths rumbled behind him, but no longer in rejection. Now they pulsed faintly, as though tethered to his will.
When Haotian broke back into the open waters, he exhaled heavily, his body still buzzing from the immense pressure.
His eyes turned northward.
"The Nerthus Abyssal Sea. The ninth awaits."
With a flash of golden light, he vanished into the endless ocean.
From the Southern Depths of obsidian stone, Haotian flew north, crossing leagues of ocean until the waters churned with unnatural force. The surface itself was restless, twisting into an endless whirlpool that plunged down into the abyss. The Nerthus Abyssal Sea—a place no sect dared approach, for even Saints were crushed or devoured within its depths.
"Water chi this dense," Haotian muttered as he hovered over the maelstrom, "even the seas themselves want to consume me."
With a breath, he plunged in.
The descent was immediate suffocation. Pressure slammed into him from every direction, the weight of mountains pressing down through liquid darkness. He let his Sovereign aura flare, golden scales flickering faintly as he forced his body to endure. The deeper he went, the more alien the world became.
Colossal shapes stirred in the gloom.
The first beast lunged—a serpent thicker than a palace tower, its body glowing faintly with bioluminescent veins. Its jaws opened, and compressed water bolts shot outward like cannon fire. Haotian twisted aside, his palm flashing with a strike of Dao lightning. The serpent's head split apart, its body curling into the darkness. With a thought, he swept its corpse into his spatial ring.
No sooner had he moved forward than two more rose from the depths—hulking turtle-like beasts with shells covered in jagged spines. They charged with terrifying momentum, water chi condensed around them like walls.
Haotian roared, his fist blazing with flame and earth elements combined. His blow shattered the first, flipping its body into the abyss. A spinning sword arc of wind and light split the second cleanly in half. Both corpses vanished into his ring.
"Even in death," he thought grimly, "you'll serve as resources for my people."
The deeper he sank, the more violent the beasts became. Strange, alien creatures with fanged maws and clawed fins swirled in packs, all larger than warships. Haotian's strikes tore through them one after another, his aura a beacon of relentless destruction amidst the dark waters.
But then, the abyss trembled.
From the black below, a shadow rose—vast, sprawling, monstrous. A gigantic octopus, its tentacles stretching hundreds of meters, eyes glowing with abyssal fury. Its presence alone warped the waters, sending shockwaves that battered Haotian.
"Of course…" Haotian muttered, golden eyes narrowing. "Something like you would be the guardian here."
The octopus struck. A tentacle lashed out, shattering the seabed, another whipping across to crush him. Haotian met it head-on, severing two limbs with a blade of pure flame. But more came, surrounding him in a cage of writhing muscle.
And then—its maw opened. With a force like a whirlpool, it dragged Haotian inside.
Darkness engulfed him. The pressure here was worse, a stomach lined with corrosive water chi that tried to dissolve even his Sovereign body. Muscles contracted, walls crushing inward, trying to grind him into nothing.
Haotian roared.
His aura exploded, the Demon God Killing Martial Arts igniting within him. One strike became eighteen, chained together in a storm of annihilation. Every blow was infused with his ten elements, his cores resonating as one. Lightning carved through flesh, flame seared, ice froze, earth ruptured, light seared deeper still.
The octopus writhed, its body convulsing violently as Haotian's strikes shredded it from within.
And then—he detonated his power.
An explosion of elemental fury erupted outward, blasting through the monster's body. The sea lit up as the octopus's enormous form split apart, green-black ichor clouding the abyss.
Haotian emerged from the gore, battered but unbowed, his aura blazing like a sun beneath the sea.
He wasted no time. In the cavern left by the beast's death, he etched his runes into the seabed. The Water chi surged violently, trying to crush his design, but he forced it into order, his golden formations spinning into a vast vortex.
The array pulsed alive, drinking deep of the endless ocean, stabilizing into a condensed core of Water chi. He overlaid failsafes and concealment, ensuring none would disturb it.
"Nine down."
Without a backward glance, Haotian surged upward, leaving the abyss behind. The sea boiled faintly in his wake, as though acknowledging his conquest.
When he broke the surface, he exhaled sharply, his gaze already turning toward the Central Continent.
"One more. Metal."
The Silverveil Mountains awaited.
Three months.
That was how long Haotian had been walking this path since Alter revealed the truth in his sea of consciousness. Three months of battles, of landscapes that sought to devour him, of elements testing him to their absolute limits.
He remembered each trial clearly.
The Wind Sheer Desert where endless storms raged—days spent forcing his body through currents that could shred Sovereigns apart. Only after enduring the gales and carving his array beneath the shifting dunes did the winds finally yield.
The Withering Abyss, where shadow beasts lurked in the black. He had fought for days in the darkness, setting his array while fending off fanged horrors that slithered unseen. Only the memory of the cottage he and Lianhua once called home gave him calm as he fought on.
The Lightning Fields, where every attempt to stabilize an array was shattered by bolts descending from the heavens. He had failed dozens of times, his body burned and seared, until finally he forced the lightning to bow by infusing his ten elements into the array itself.
Each trial was a scar etched into his flesh and soul. Yet here he stood, nine arrays complete. Only one remained.
The Metal element.
The Silverveil Mountains rose before him—an endless range of black cliffs, silver veins glowing faintly in the stone like dragon arteries. The air itself was sharp, every breath laced with metallic tang, as if the land wanted to cut him from the inside out.
Haotian descended, his golden eyes narrowing. Immediately, he felt it—corrosion. His protective aura hissed as though blades were gnawing at it, every pulse of chi grinding against his defenses.
"This place…" he murmured. "Even Emperors would tread carefully."
The mountains roared in eerie silence. From the cliffs, veins of liquid silver pulsed and dripped, forming jagged blades that solidified midair before crashing to the ground. Each impact echoed like a sword striking an anvil. The ground was littered with endless broken weapons—swords, halberds, spears—each forged by the mountain itself.
And each one carried killing intent.
Haotian walked forward, and the earth shifted. A dozen metallic blades rose on their own, trembling before launching at him like arrows. He twisted, deflecting one, cutting down another. A third grazed his arm, slicing through his Sovereign defenses like paper.
Even his body could not shrug this off carelessly.
He pressed deeper into the range, every step a battle. Sword storms erupted from the cliffs, spears shot out from the ground itself. Once, a rain of blades forced him to cover himself with layered arrays just to survive.
"Not only corrosion," Haotian thought grimly as he batted away a halberd strike that manifested from nowhere, "but a will of slaughter. This is why even Emperors avoid this place."
But he would not turn back.
At the heart of the mountains, he found it—a cavern of silver veins, glowing bright as molten metal. The chi here was unbearable, pressing on him until his body rang like hammered steel. His skin split faintly under the strain, golden scales flashing as his physique fought to hold together.
"This is the place."
He raised his hands, runes flaring golden, etching into the stone. The array spread, but every time a line stabilized, a surge of metallic essence tried to corrode it. Blades erupted from the ground, stabbing toward him mid-construction. He deflected them while weaving runes, sweat beading across his forehead.
Again and again, the array faltered.
And again and again, Haotian forced it back into order.
Finally, the cavern shuddered as the vortex ignited—an endless spiral of Metal chi condensing into a singular core. The storm of weapons fell still, bowing in silence to the new anchor.
Haotian exhaled, his voice rough. "Ten down."
He wove concealments, hiding the array's glow, and sealed its resonance beneath the mountains. The Silverveil Mountains returned to silence, though every jagged blade hummed faintly with his mark.
As he stepped out of the cavern, the metallic tang still burning in his lungs, Haotian looked upward.
Three months of trials. Ten elements bound to him.
The next step was Emperor Realm—and the inevitable merging with Alter.
His golden eyes hardened. "The heavens can come. I am ready."
With a flash of light, he left the mountains behind.
The Eternal Yin Orchid Sect was alive with the pulse of cultivation when Haotian returned. He had just come from the Silverveil Mountains, the weight of ten elemental grounds still heavy on his aura. His robes were torn, his body faintly scarred from corrosion, but his eyes burned with resolve.
What met him at the Moon Lotus Pavilion, however, stopped him cold.
The training grounds were filled with the sounds of strained breaths and steel. His wives and the pavilion disciples were battered and bruised, their robes torn, arms and legs wrapped with bandages. Some coughed blood as they staggered to their feet, only to continue sparring again.
His anger erupted instantly.
"Why are you training like this!?" Haotian's voice thundered across the courtyard, shaking even the protective wards.
Everyone froze. The disciples looked down, but the five sisters turned to face him, eyes defiant despite their injuries.
Haotian stormed forward, his gaze sweeping over their bloodied forms. "Bruises, cuts, broken ribs—what madness is this? Do you all want to destroy your futures? To cripple your cultivation before it has even reached its peak?"
Yinxue met his glare, voice steady though her lip was split. "We wanted to become stronger—for you."
Ziyue added, wincing from a cut across her arm. "You bear the weight of ten continents. If we don't push ourselves to the edge, how can we stand at your side?"
Shuyue, pale but stubborn, stepped forward. "Last time, you trained until your body was crushed, your bones torn, your organs nearly falling out. Don't think we forgot." Her cheeks reddened suddenly as she added, almost too casually, "I even had to triple check to make sure the size didn't change…"
The courtyard fell silent. Every disciple's jaw dropped.
Even Yueru blinked in disbelief, and Yinxue turned crimson.
Only Lianhua, who had not been present for that episode, rounded sharply on Haotian. "What does she mean by that, Haotian? Explain yourself!"
Haotian rubbed his temples, sighing. "Not this again…"
But Lianhua was relentless, her scolding sharp enough to make the bruised disciples wince.
Finally, Haotian raised both hands in defeat. "Enough. You win. You always win."
The sisters exchanged triumphant glances while Haotian exhaled heavily, shifting the subject. "Listen. To become stronger does not mean to destroy your futures. You can push, yes—but not to the point where your bodies break beyond repair. No more of this reckless training."
The disciples and sisters bowed their heads, but their eyes were still burning with determination. Haotian sighed again. He knew he couldn't win against their spirit, but he could at least protect them from the consequences.
"Return and rest," he commanded. "No more sparring tonight. And no—" he cast a pointed look at the sisters "—I will not be intimate with you when you're this bruised and bleeding. I'd rather not kill my own wives through carelessness."
Their faces reddened, but none dared argue.
Haotian turned on his heel, robes swaying as he made for the alchemy hall.
Inside, he laid out herbs across the jade table, his mind already racing. "If they insist on training like this, then I'll prepare for it. A pill that heals wounds, restores stamina, and eliminates scars. Triple recovery, with body refinement properties…"
He sorted the main essences and supplementary herbs, then closed his eyes. The Primordial Harmony Refinement Technique flared to life.
Light swirled around his hands, herbs dissolving into streams of pure essence. The essences did not burn or break down as with traditional cauldron refining—instead, they flowed together in perfect balance, yin and yang dancing across his palms.
Hours passed in silence. Finally, the glow condensed into crystalline pills, each engraved with natural runes that shimmered faintly with restorative qi.
Ten thousand pills. From only four batches.
That night, Haotian bottled the pills in jade containers and returned to the Moon Lotus Pavilion. At the entrance, he met a lingering elder still overseeing the injured disciples.
"Here," Haotian said, handing her a spatial ring. "Inside are new pills. They will accelerate healing threefold, restore chi quickly, and refine the body without leaving scars. Make sure every disciple receives them. The skin restoration effect will ensure no marks remain—on them, or my wives."
The elder blinked, stunned. She bowed deeply, tears shining in her eyes. "Commander Haotian… even when you scold us, you still care for every one of us."
Haotian's expression softened faintly, though he turned his head to hide it. "Go. Distribute them. And make sure no one pushes themselves to the brink again."
The elder left with a smile. Watching him walk back into the night, she whispered to herself:
"This is why we follow him. This is why every one of us would fight for him without hesitation."
The night was quiet at the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect. Moonlight fell across the courtyards, silver and soft, touching the Pavilion where the women rested.
Haotian walked slowly through the halls, a jade bottle in his hand. He entered each of his wives' chambers in turn.
First was Yinxue. She sat upright, her body covered in light bandages, the strain of her training still written across her face. Haotian handed her the bottle, his tone calm. "Take it."
She obeyed without hesitation. The pill dissolved into her body like liquid light, her wounds knitting instantly, bruises vanishing, her skin returning smoother than before. She touched her cheek in wonder, then gazed at him with softened eyes. "Haotian…"
She leaned forward, lips brushing his, but he gently placed a hand against her shoulder. "Not tonight. You're healed, but rest your mind as well."
Her lips trembled, but she nodded, lying back down as he rose.
Next was Ziyue. She smirked faintly when he entered, though her eyes betrayed exhaustion. "Come to punish me for my recklessness again?" she teased.
He handed her the pill. "Take it."
She did, and her body relaxed, tension melting away. She slid forward suddenly, wrapping her arms around his neck, her lips grazing his ear. "Stay with me tonight."
Haotian gently pulled her arms free, shaking his head. "Not yet. Sleep."
Her gaze lingered on him with frustration, then softened into quiet affection. "You're too cruel…" she whispered, but obeyed.
Shuyue tried to smile when he entered, but her eyes flickered with guilt. She took the pill in silence, her injuries fading instantly. When she met his gaze again, she whispered, "You never let us catch up to you. Not really."
He knelt beside her, brushing her hair from her face. "You will. But not if you break yourselves before the true battle begins."
She kissed his hand, eyes damp. "Then at least… don't leave me behind."
Haotian rose and only said, "Sleep."
Yueru was waiting for him, her back straight, her expression stubborn. "I don't need rest. I can keep training."
He handed her the pill without argument. She swallowed it, and her defiance faltered as her wounds disappeared completely. She looked at him then, lips parting. "If you won't let me fight recklessly, then at least let me stay with you tonight."
Haotian touched her cheek lightly, shaking his head. "Rest. That's all I ask."
For a moment, she looked as though she would argue, but then her shoulders sank. "Fine. But tomorrow…"
"Tomorrow," he agreed, and left.
Finally, Lianhua. She took the pill quietly, her body recovering in an instant. She stared at him in silence, then leaned close, brushing her lips across his cheek. "Even if you refuse us tonight, just know—we all love you. Enough to bleed for you. Enough to fight until we fall."
Haotian closed his eyes briefly, then stepped back. "…I know. And that is why I must endure what comes next."
He left her chamber without another word.
That night, Haotian sat alone in the outer courtyard, his gaze lifted to the endless stars. His hands tightened on his knees, his mind turning to Alter's words, to Gaia's voice, to the looming shadow of the Immortals.
A year at most… and then I will no longer be myself.
Inside the Pavilion, the sisters slept.
But their sleep was not peaceful.
One by one, their dreams filled with him. Yinxue whispered his name as her body tensed, mumbling half-formed pleas. Ziyue gasped and moaned in her sleep, biting her lip as though reliving intimacy. Shuyue whimpered, murmuring, "Yes… don't stop." Yueru turned and drooled faintly, muttering between breaths, "More… Haotian…" Lianhua shifted with a faint smile, whispering promises of forever.
Each of them, in their own dream worlds, reached out for the same man.
The man who sat outside, alone under the moonlight, preparing to surrender his very self for their survival.