ONE MONTH LATER — OUTSIDE THE DOME.
The world outside the dome had changed. What had once been quiet plains and forest ridges was now a sea of tents, banners, and fortifications stretching beyond the horizon. The once‑clear sky above Chang‑an District shimmered faintly beneath the light reflected by the giant structure that stood at its heart—a colossal sphere of golden and crimson hue, pulsing like a living sun.
The Dome.
Lord Heavenly Law's Inheritance Grounds.
Around its base, the land trembled constantly. Spiritual energy converged there in chaotic spirals—so thick and pure that even mortals could feel it in their bones. The air itself weighed heavy like molten glass, echoing with distant hums of the Law's vibration.
Before the dome, assembled legions of the most powerful cultivators of the Zhou Continent stood in solemn awe and restrained greed. From the Fire Alliance side, three Nascent Soul experts stood together at the front.
In the middle, their leader—Aldrof Hizler—watched the dome with narrowed golden eyes that reflected the flickering radiance. Beside him, two Elders of the alliance stood in silence: Fire Devil Wan Lin, his crimson aura barely suppressed, and Magma Ghost Hun Ya, his presence dark and smoky like a dying forge. Behind them, a Grand Elder of the Soul Formation realm stood quietly, wearing an expression caught between reverence and unease.
On the opposite side, representing the Poland Alliance, two Nascent Soul cultivators faced the dome as well. Li Wan, the Ice Fairy, stood calm and unshaken, the frost‑white aura around her balancing the golden light with serene calm. At her right stood the beast‑man Zhan Yuan—Earthly Rebel—his tall form radiating quiet strength, the ground under his bare feet subtly quivering in response to his natural power.
Accompanying them was their own grand elder—a Soul Formation cultivator cloaked in pale blue energy, quiet, observant, keeping subtle watch. But it was not just the great alliances that had arrived. Across the great plain, banners of every color and crest filled the view.
Among them were the seven rogue Nascent Soul cultivators—men and women who had long rejected the authority of the major powers.
Two Soul Formation wanderers and one silent Soul Transformation cultivator stood among them, their faces veiled, eyes distant, each waiting for the dome to open. Further behind, the landscape was crowded with life—hundreds of Core Formation cultivators, and thousands of Foundation Establishment and Qi Condensation realm cultivators mingled in tense groups.
Many had come alone, others in bands or sect detachments, each one drawn by greed.
And below them all, gathered at the fringes of this immense phenomenon, were more than a thousand mortals—merchants, townsfolk, servants, and opportunists who had come simply to witness history, praying that fortune might spill from the heavens.
The world was boiling. The air between the Fire and Poland Alliances shuddered with a quiet, unseen hostility. Commanders barked orders to maintain distance, their eyes locked warily across the invisible lines dividing both sides.
No one dared move close to the dome itself. Its surface pulsed with living energy, deep cracks of golden light shifting like veins in stone, whispering in a language older than the world. And above it, faint words began to etch themselves in the air—symbols none could read, yet all could feel. They carried power, pulling at the mind like gravity.
Hizler exhaled slowly, folding his arms. "A month has passed," he said, his voice quiet but measured. "Just as Wang Zhen said. The gates will open soon."
Li Wan's gaze flicked from across the plain. Her tone was calm, but her eyes were sharp. "Prepare yourselves, The Dome is about to open." Between them, the wind shifted.
The dome glowed brighter. And from within, a faint pulse echoed outward—one heartbeat, one tremor, enough to make even Nascent Souls tighten their stance.
The dome began to stir.
A deep hum rose from its surface, the golden and crimson lines of law that had covered it suddenly flaring like lightning veins. The sound rolled across the entire plain—low, immense, almost alive. Then, at its base, the shield of condensed Law energy twisted open, forming a spiraling corridor of light.
Slowly, a door materialized in the dome—a structure hundreds of meters high, framed in patterns no mortal metal could craft. When it opened, the very air bent inward as if bowing to ancient authority. The crowd erupted. Countless cultivators pressed forward instinctively, but the front ranks hesitated.
Many Core Formation cultivators clenched their fists in frustration; none dared step into the glowing corridor before them. Not when dozens of Nascent Souls, Soul Formations, and even a Soul Transformation cultivator stood watching in silence.
Murmurs swelled like restless waves among the lower realms. "How long are they going to stand there?" someone muttered. "They look like statues!"
Another low‑realm cultivator snorted. "These old monsters are wasting time, as always. If they're afraid, they should let us pass first." His words earned several sharp glares, but whispers continued to spread.
One Core Formation brute, emboldened by impatience, laughed harshly. "Let them wait. Once inside, every one of them will be turned into mortals. Then we'll see whose fists are truly stronger. I'll teach those ancient fossils what—" The sentence never finished.
A wet thud echoed through the air. His skull exploded—splattering blood and bone fragments across the ground. The body stood for half a breath longer before collapsing. The crowd fell silent. Then fear rippled through it like a living thing.
Above the path, space itself warped, and in the next instant, a man appeared, hovering several meters off the ground. He wore plain black robes streaked with red, his long black hair drifting without wind. In his hand, a faint haze shimmered—like transparent blades twisting through the air.
His eyes glowed faint silver, cold and utterly merciless. The Mind Demon, Yao Gu. The single Soul Transformation cultivator present, infamous across three regions for his obsession with crushing skulls barehanded.
His voice rolled out, low and distorted. "Who," he asked, his tone quiet but sharp as razors, "wants to teach us a lesson?"
The words alone changed the air. A crushing force burst outward, a storm of raw spiritual pressure that blanketed the plains. The ground cracked. Trees nearby disintegrated into ash. Mortals died instantly—hundreds flattened under invisible weight.
Qi Condensation cultivators collapsed screaming; their bones cracked as blood spilled from their mouths before unconsciousness took them.
Foundation Establishment cultivators fared slightly better—they remained conscious, but their faces twisted under unbearable pressure, their knees pressing into the dirt.
Core Formation experts were flattened, gasping and trembling.
Even Nascent Souls bent where they stood, forced half to their knees, unable to bear the suffocating spiritual tide. Only the Soul Formation cultivators managed to endure the storm—shaken, but still upright, their defensive auras flashing faintly in defiance.
The distant leaders stirred for the first time. The grand elder of the Poland Alliance raised his hand, his deep voice cutting through the chaos. "Lord Mind Demon, calm your anger! This is neither the place nor the time."
The demonic cultivator turned slightly, one corner of his mouth curling into something between a smirk and a snarl. He stepped forward—and the air beneath his feet bended like waves in water.
A ripple passed through reality itself—a spatial shockwave, distorting light and bending the horizon. He wasn't walking on air. He was walking on the spatial plane. And with every step, he forced space to hold his weight.
Each movement sent a wave of distorted energy outward, tremors faint but relentless. "Hm," Yao Gu murmured softly, glancing at the elder who had spoken. "At least one of you still has a functioning mind." His gaze swept across the crowd below.
A faint laugh echoed, dark and quiet. The plains fell silent once again—none daring to speak, none daring to move—as his laughter faded into the endless hum of the dome behind him.
The doorway of Law still stood open, waiting, yet no one wished to be the next to die under that gaze.
-----
Yao Gu's eyes flashed once, and his form blurred. Whoosh!
In the blink of an eye, the Mind Demon vanished from the sky, reappearing silently in front of the massive golden gate. Space itself rippled in his wake like disturbed water. Without hesitation, his black‑robed figure crossed the glowing threshold and disappeared into the swirling light beyond.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then, as if released from a suffocating grip, the gathered cultivators exhaled collectively—the oppressive weight that had blanketed them fading with his departure. "It's open…" someone whispered faintly. "The trials have begun."
High above, four figures rose into the air, drifting toward the dome's gate. Their robes and auras marked them unmistakably—Soul Formation cultivators from across the continent. Each of them moved with visible caution, their gazes locked warily on one another as they floated above the gathered crowds.
Conflicting histories burned in their eyes, yet none made a move to strike. Even old grudges bowed before what lay beyond that door. Without exchanging a single word, they followed Yao Gu's path—each vanishing into the dome's radiance like falling stars.
The plains rumbled. Next came the Nascent Souls.
One by one, their forms appeared in the sky like flames igniting lanterns. From the Fire Alliance, three crimson‑robed figures hovered in unison—Aldrof Hizler at their front, Fire Devil Wan Lin beside him, and Magma Ghost Hun Ya trailing behind with faint red mist curling around his body.
Across from them, Li Wan and Zhan Yuan of the Poland Alliance ascended as well, their presence calm yet unyielding. Around them, the seven rogue Nascent Souls appeared one after another—each cloaked in their own unique aura, their tension palpable but restrained. No one spoke. No one dared act recklessly.
The invisible scent of pride and rivalry hung between them like thunderclouds ready to burst. Then, without warning, Hizler moved first. A flash of gold crossed his eyes as his body turned into a stream of fiery light that vanished into the gate's glow.
The others followed—Li Wan, Zhan Yuan, and every Nascent Soul cultivator soon after. Each entered, one step behind another.
The sky trembled as the last of their energy fluctuations faded into the dome's vast interior. For a long moment, no one below dared to breathe.
Then everything erupted into chaos. Hundred of Core Formation cultivators surged upward, their faces twisted with determination and greed. The ground cracked beneath the force of their leaps, the air itself hissing as trails of light streaked toward the gate.
Moments later, thousands of Foundation Establishment cultivators followed, some on flying artifacts, others launching themselves through sheer force alone.
Below them, Qi Condensation cultivators scrambled to follow—bodies glowing as they sprinted, levitated, or fell forward into the open entrance like moths drawn to divine flame.
The light swallowed them all—one after another, until the once‑crowded field grew empty.
Only mortals remained too weak to follow, staring in awe at the fading brilliance of the gate. And above them, the dome pulsed once more, as if the ancient being sleeping within had just taken its first deep breath.
The Inheritance Grounds had claimed its challengers.
-----
MEANWHILE, INSIDE THE DOME.
The silence of Han Chen's room was broken by a faint, sharp sound—Crack. He opened his eyes, his body instantly tensing. The noise came again, louder this time. The wooden door that had remained unmoving for an entire month was splitting along its seams, thin rays of light leaking through the cracks.
For a moment, he thought it was another illusion or one of the dome's strange shifts. Then, with a deep groan, the door creaked outward. Creak. A gust of warm air brushed against him. Han Chen slowly rose from the bed, his gaze locking on the doorway.
Beyond it, instead of the endless walls and lifeless stone he had seen for weeks, there stretched an open plain bathed in dim sunlight—green fields rolling into the distance beneath an endless sky. For the first time since he woke in this place, the world outside his chamber looked alive.
He stood there in silence for a few seconds, letting the warmth of light touch his face. "Finally," he muttered under his breath, a faint smirk curving his lips. "After a month… this door has opened." His hand brushed along the edge of the frame as he stepped forward, his feet crossing from the confined room into the glimmering air beyond.
The inheritance grounds had truly begun.
-----TO BE CONTINUED-----