CHAPTER 174 — The Weight of Urgency
---
1. After the Trial, Silence
The Grand Trial Platform emptied slowly.
Disciples departed in small groups, voices hushed, expressions altered. Some walked with newfound confidence. Others with shaken certainty. The trial had not injured them physically—but it had stripped something bare.
Lin remained behind.
He stood at the platform's edge long after the last disciple left, watching the clouds roll endlessly below. The Titan Realm stretched out beneath him—vast, ancient, immeasurably powerful.
And yet…
It did not feel safe.
Not anymore.
Bai's massive form rested nearby, coiled but alert. His presence was steady, reassuring, but even he seemed quieter than usual.
> "You're thinking too loudly," Bai rumbled.
Lin exhaled slowly.
"I keep hearing it," he admitted. "The gap."
Bai's eye opened slightly.
> "Between what you are… and what you must become."
Lin nodded.
Ascension.
Saint.
Godhood.
Those were not realms someone strolled into. They were thresholds paid for in blood, time, and sacrifice.
And time was the one thing Lin didn't trust.
---
2. A Private Word with the Sect Master
Xuanyang appeared without announcement, as if stepping out of folded space itself.
"You linger," the Sect Master said mildly.
Lin turned and bowed deeply.
"I needed to think."
Xuanyang joined him at the edge of the platform.
"About your home?" he asked.
"Yes."
"And about how little time I might have."
Xuanyang studied him quietly.
"Your path is long," he said. "Even with your talent, reaching Ascension will take decades. Saint Realm—centuries."
Lin didn't argue.
"I know," he said. "That's why I can't walk it normally."
Xuanyang's eyes sharpened slightly.
"You would burn yourself out."
"Maybe," Lin replied. "But if I slow down… I might lose everything before I arrive."
Xuanyang was silent for a long moment.
Then he said something unexpected.
"Fear can sharpen resolve. But it also narrows vision."
Lin clenched his fists.
"I'm not afraid for myself," he said quietly. "I'm afraid of arriving too late."
Xuanyang nodded slowly.
"That," he said, "is the burden of those who protect worlds."
He turned away.
"I will not stop you from pushing yourself. But I will not allow you to destroy your foundation."
Lin bowed deeply again.
"I wouldn't accept it if you did."
A faint smile tugged at the Sect Master's lips.
---
3. Lin Chooses His Pace
That night, Lin did not rest.
He descended into his inner world—into the heart of his solar system, where laws churned in quiet harmony.
Twin suns pulsed overhead.
Planets rotated with measured inevitability.
Gravity sang in balanced orbits.
Lin sat at the axis.
And began again.
He did not cycle qi normally.
He layered it.
Gravity first—compressing his existence until every breath carried weight.
Fire next—tempering his spirit like metal in a forge.
Lightning—stimulating thought and reaction.
Space—stretching perception.
Time—slowing the moment just enough to think between heartbeats.
Hours passed.
Then days.
Lin emerged only to drink, to adjust formations, to briefly check on others—then returned.
Aurora watched silently at first.
Then finally spoke.
"You are demanding more of yourself than any master would."
Lin didn't open his eyes.
"I need to know my limits," he said. "Before something else finds them for me."
Aurora floated closer.
"And if you break?"
"Then I'll rebuild," Lin replied simply.
The suns overhead brightened.
His inner world expanded—slowly, but unmistakably.
---
4. The Price of Relentless Growth
Weeks passed.
Lin's cultivation did not leap.
It deepened.
His gravity law no longer flared outward—it settled into his bones. His presence alone caused subtle distortions. Disciples standing too close unconsciously adjusted their footing.
His fire grew quieter—but more dangerous. Not explosive, but absolute.
Lightning threaded through his nervous system, sharpening reaction to near precognition.
And space…
Space listened now.
Not obeyed.
Listened.
Yet despite the progress, Lin felt restless.
At night, when he meditated, images returned unbidden.
A blue sky.
A gravity he once measured with numbers.
A world that might still be there… waiting.
Bai noticed.
> "Your mind is pulling at something distant," the dragon said.
"I know," Lin replied.
> "That can be dangerous."
"I know," Lin repeated.
But he did not stop.
---
5. Yueyin Watches from Afar
From her own courtyard, Yueyin observed Lin quietly.
She didn't approach.
She sensed something—an intensity that made her hesitate.
Lin cultivated like someone racing a clock no one else could hear.
It unsettled her.
Because she recognized that feeling.
The desperate need to grow strong before the darkness returned.
She hugged her arms around herself, phoenix fire flickering faintly beneath her skin.
"…You're not the only one running," she whispered.
Unseen, the chain within her soul pulsed faintly.
---
6. The Abyss Stirs, Patient and Certain
Far beyond the Titan Realm, abyssal scouts withdrew again.
Their reports were incomplete.
Conflicting.
But one truth was undeniable.
The worldforger was not stagnating.
He was accelerating.
The Abyssal Ancestor listened in silence.
Then spoke.
"Let him grow."
A pause.
"The higher he climbs… the more satisfying the fall."
The void answered with a low, eager hum.
---
7. Lin's Vow
At the end of the month, Lin rose from meditation and stood beneath his inner suns.
He placed a hand over his chest.
Not in fear.
In promise.
"I will reach you," he murmured—to his home, to his past, to whatever waited beyond realms.
"No matter how long it takes."
And if the Abyss stood in the way—
He would learn to crush even that.
---