Present Day — Fire Alliance.
The grand chamber burned with quiet intensity. Streams of molten fire flowed beneath the crystalline floor, filling the vast throne hall with an infernal glow.
On the highest seat, Aldrof Hizler, Supreme Leader of the Fire Alliance, sat with his chin resting heavily on his hand. Around him, eight thrones stood arranged on two sides of the hall, each occupied by one of the Fire Alliance's Nascent Soul Elders.
Their faces were grim, the air between them thick with tension. Hizler's eyes glimmered faintly as he exhaled. "I underestimated the methods of Lord Heavenly Law," he said, voice low and controlled. "In all my planning, I never believed the dome would announce its presence across the entire continent."
The fourth elder leaned forward, his voice quiet but sharp. "Leader, that announcement… it reached even the neutral kingdoms. Everyone's moving." Hizler nodded slowly. "And this dome—he even built a self-destruct sequence. A failsafe against anyone above Deity Transformation. Mentioning that alone… it's a warning. He knew someone would try to take it by force." The eighth elder scowled, flames flickering in his eyes. "To suppress every cultivator beneath Deity Transformation to mortals… that's no array—it's pure Law power. Even Nascent Souls can't resist it."
The third elder, Fire Devil Wan Lin, crossed his arms, his tone dark. "Leader, this is beyond our current reach. If we enter, everything—our qi, our cores, our strength—is stripped away. It's suicide without guarantee of inheritance." Hizler gave a faint smile. "Perhaps. But those who enter will still retain one strength others lack—our experience." A murmur spread through the hall.
The sixth elder, Magma Ghost Hun Ya, let out a short, humorless laugh. "Ha, experience means little when you can't summon fire or reinforce your body. Still… I suppose danger and opportunity walk hand in hand." His molten-red eyes lifted toward the flames dancing along the ceiling. "This dome—this Inheritance Ground—Wang Zhen made it for those who dare. Those who fear death may as well watch from outside." The fifth elder grunted. "Then what's our course, Leader? Do we send young cultivators again? Or…"
"No," Hizler interrupted, his gaze steady, deliberate. "I'll go myself."The words stunned the room into silence. The second elder frowned. "Leader, that's too dangerous. The Alliance cannot lose—"
"Enough," Hizler said, raising his hand. "If we stand at the peak of power and yet cower before the shadow of a dead man, then we've already lost. The First Flame of this Alliance was born from risk—not stagnation." He turned to both sides. "Fire Devil Wan Lin. Magma Ghost Hun Ya. You two will accompany me. We'll enter the dome ourselves—and willingly submit to its suppression."
Wan Lin's eyes glinted with dark amusement. "Hoh, I would be happy to accompany you, Leader."
Hun Ya smirked faintly. "At the very least, we should inform the supreme elders." The rest of the elders exchanged uneasy glances, but Hizler's tone left no room for argument.
"The Fire Alliance will stand in unity. The three of us will claim Lord Heavenly Law's legacy. No matter what happens," he said firmly, "we step into the dome not as Nascent Souls, but as mortals seeking the path of Heaven itself." The molten rivers around them surged higher, echoing the renewed flame in his words.
Present Day — Poland Alliance, Grand Council Hall.
Thousands of miles away, within the crystalline halls of the Poland Alliance Capital, a completely different atmosphere prevailed. The council chamber was vast and circular, carved from bluish-white saint ice that never melted.
Seven thrones, each made of a different element, surrounded the grand table at the center. This day, all seven seats were filled. Two women, four men, and one beast‑man. No hierarchy, no order. Each of these seven held power equivalent to nations.
At the head of the discussion sat Li Wan, known across the continents as Ice Fairy—Supreme Leader of the Poland Alliance. Her long silver hair brushed across her white combat robes, eyes calmly sweeping over the gathered cultivators. "The inheritance of Lord Heavenly Law cannot be ignored," she said, her tone sharp but composed. "According to the records, this man's attainment in Law was comparable to an Ascendent. A treasure of this magnitude could reshape the balance of our world."
The first sect master—a wedge‑bearded elder of molten qi—nodded slowly. "Even the weakest portion of his legacy would be enough to create another Alliance." Li Wan's gaze darkened slightly.
"It's been thirteen thousand years since any true Ascendent has walked this continent. They all vanished—without trace. We can't ignore that." The beast‑man among them, Zhan Yuan of the Earthen Claw Tribe, folded his massive arms.
His golden fur rippled slightly as he spoke in a quiet rumble. "If this inheritance holds techniques that can break the void barrier… then perhaps we can find out what happened to them." A light murmur spread across the table.
"The Fire Alliance will act," Li Wan continued. "They won't wait, and neither shall we."That remark brought faint tension around the table.
The second sect leader, an older woman wreathed in wind qi, shifted slightly in her chair. "Then we must match them, or be left behind." Li Wan's eyes closed for a brief moment, then she nodded once.
"Very well. I will go myself." The table grew still. "Leader," another elder said cautiously, "if you enter, the Alliance will be vulnerable—"
"Not if I leave the command to all of you," she replied calmly. "Besides, this is not about politics. It's about balance. If the Fire Alliance seeks dominion, then Poland must meet them head‑on." Her gaze moved to the beast‑man. "Zhan Yuan—Earthly Rebel—you will accompany me."
Zhan Yuan grinned faintly, exposing sharp canines. "Haao! I'll accompany you alright." The seven nodded in agreement, tension fading into quiet resolve. Li Wan rose from her seat, her figure sharp against the pale light. "Let this 'Wan' see whether Wang Zhen's so‑called Inheritance Grounds can measure the worth of those who lead the living world."
Around the hall, the air chilled, clouds of frost swirling faintly from her steps.
ACROSS THE CONTINENT.
Near the radiant dome, energy gathered from every direction. Rogue cultivators of Core Formation and above arrived one after another—hidden masters, wandering hermits, ambitious elites.
Three independent Nascent Souls not belonging to any alliance approached in concealed groups, followed by two Soul Formation and one Soul Transformation cultivator cloaked in secrecy.
Hundreds of core formation cultivators watched from the distance, faces lit by the dome's reflection. The Inheritance Grounds of Lord Heavenly Law were no longer rumor. They had become the axis of the continent's fate.
And, Han Chen was unfortunate enough to get stuck between the brimming storm.
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Inside the Dome — Han Chen's Chamber.
Han Chen sat cross‑legged on the cold floor, elbows resting loosely on his knees. The stone beneath him had long lost its chill, yet the silence in the room still pressed down like a weight. The same wooden door stood ahead—motionless, unmoving, as if carved from indifference itself.
He sighed. "So this is how it goes, huh?"
A cold smile crossed his lips. "It's almost too ridiculous. My first mission since getting dragged into this world… and somehow, I end up in a Deity Formation cultivator's inheritance ground." His gaze sank to the floor. "And it's not even like I got much out of it. The death qi I absorbed before this mess? Just one body. One. The rest died under others' rifle fire, and the Eye didn't register them."
He rubbed his temples, trying to push away the dull frustration. "Unrealistic doesn't even begin to describe it."
For a moment, he leaned his head back against the wall, eyes half‑closed as memories drifted through him—his original world, blurry and distant. The smell of smoke, the faint cries at the edge of his old hunting grounds, and the disaster that followed.
He almost laughed. "When I was harvesting death qi from mortals back then, who would've thought those 'mortals' were actually cultivators? What kind of rotten luck does it take for a group of Peak of Qi Condensation Realm guards to show up in the middle of my work?" He could almost see the night again—blades flashing, pursuit lights searing through shattered streets.
That was when he'd first used it—the Heavenly Eye's gift. Opening the portal hadn't been instinct. It was desperation. And just like that, he had escaped into this world. Now, not even a full month had passed, and here he was—trapped again, this time inside the design of someone who had once rivaled Ascendants.
Han Chen ran a hand over his face. "A Deity Formation cultivator's inheritance… even if I somehow manage to get it, there's no way people outside will let me keep it. The moment I step out, I'll be hunted down by every sect and alliance that can still breathe."
His eyes narrowed slightly, that hint of cold determination surfacing in the gloom."But," he muttered, "since I'm already here, I'm not leaving empty‑handed." The silence deepened again. Somewhere in that stillness, the air shimmered faintly—as if the dome itself was watching, waiting for the next move of the mortal it had drawn inside.
Han Chen's expression steadied. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee in rhythm with his thoughts. "Let's see what kind of game you've set up, Lord Heavenly Law."
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After a long stretch of uneasy silence, the air within the dome began to hum again. The faint vibration ran through the walls, the sky, and even the ground beneath every living being across the Zhou Continent.
Han Chen felt it first—a ripple, subtle but powerful, tugging at the edge of his consciousness. Then, the same voice that had shaken nations only hours before echoed once more across the vast world. "I am Heavenly Law — Wang Zhen."
The sound rolled like thunder that carried no storm. It was calm, absolute, impossible to resist or ignore. "The Inheritance Grounds," the voice continued, "will open in one month. The trials will last for one full year."
Every word etched itself into the minds of cultivators across the land—soldiers, sect masters, rogue wanderers, and even beasts hidden deep in ancient forests.
Inside the dome, the very air flickered with faint radiance, as if the Laws themselves were acknowledging the command.
Han Chen stared upward, quiet. "A month, huh?" he murmured. "Why does people like to waste so much time." Far beyond the sealed walls, the entire continent stirred—preparing for the year that would decide who would reach the end of Lord Heavenly Law's trials.
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AFTER ONE MONTH.
A full month had passed since Lord Heavenly Law's voice had echoed through the continent, yet for those trapped inside, the endless cycles of change had begun to dull their sense of passing days.
Han Chen's room had not remained constant. The first time it shifted, he thought it a hallucination—the stone walls melting away, their texture transforming into smooth darkwood panels. But it happened again. And again. Every few days, the space restructured without warning, as if the dome itself was testing his perception of reality.
There was no clear pattern. Sometimes the floors turned to rough stone, other days to cold metal. Even the air carried different scents—from dry dust to the faint fragrance of rain. Still, a few constants remained. Every three hours, a meal would materialize on a plain clay plate near the center of the room. Thick bread, preserved meat, occasionally fruits. Always simple, never poisoned.
The water tank in the corner refilled itself once each day, beads of moisture forming along its edges before overflowing gently into the stone basin below. A small archway near the corner led into a narrow chamber—just large enough to serve as a toilet. Practical, if slightly eerie in how seamlessly it appeared after the first week.
By the second week, a low wooden bed had manifested, along with a folded blanket and dry firewood arranged beside a modest stone hearth. Han Chen had stopped questioning the logic of it. "The dome provides living essentials," he had muttered once. "Wants us alive. Which means the real trials haven't started yet." Now, as midnight crept upon the room, silence reigned again.
A thin window had appeared along the far wall two days prior—barred with faint metallic netting that pulsed faintly with law energy. Through it, Han Chen could see the sky beyond. A vast sea of stars shimmered above, unblinking, unmoving.
It wasn't the same sky as outside; this one never shifted, never changed position. A frozen illusion of time itself. He sat by the small fire, the ember glow flickering over his face.
The air was still. Only the sound of faint crackling filled the night.
The countdown to the Inheritance Grounds' opening had ended.
-----TO BE CONTINUED-----