Chapter 72

Han Luo stared at everything before him, feeling like the world was toying with him.

This wasn’t Safehouse No.1, nor was it the base of the lonely peak where he had fallen moments ago.

In fact, he hadn’t moved at all.

The lonely peak was still the same lonely peak.

The darkness remained unchanged.

Nothing had actually happened. Everything he’d experienced—like that overly energetic square-dancing lady or the guy sitting on durians because of a hemorrhoid flare-up—had been an illusion.

A complete hallucination.

The only thing that was real now… was that the peak was still ascending.

As he calmed himself and thought it through, a chill crept over him.

If he had taken a supreme grade Spirit Tempering Pill just now, the surge of spiritual energy from both sources might’ve overloaded his body and caused him to explode on the spot.

The path of cultivation truly wasn’t so simple.

Heaven’s trials were ever-present and relentless.

To gain greater power, one must always be prepared to take greater risks.

Unless, of course, you were a second-generation immortal.

Han Luo sat on the steadily rising peak, surrounded by darkness. He had no idea how much longer the ascent would continue, nor what altitude he had already reached. There were no reference points around him—but he could feel it clearly: the spiritual energy within his body was undergoing a transformation.

In his consciousness, he remained in a world of darkness. But in the outside world, inside Safehouse No.1, Han Luo sat cross-legged in the Spirit Tempering Array, radiating a solemn and divine presence.

Nine-colored divine light poured from his entire body, turning the space into a dazzling kaleidoscope—like a glittering disco ball illuminating the entire safehouse.

A sacred and inviolable aura permeated the surroundings.

He looked like a true immortal descending to the mortal realm, glowing with eternal brilliance.

Faintly, behind him in the hazy mist, a massive world seemed to rise and fall—a terrifying sight to behold.

At the same time, a vision appeared in the skies over the Eastern Domain.

A five-clawed golden dragon, so massive its length was beyond imagination, coiled through the heavens. Its golden scales shimmered like mountain ranges, and its mighty body seemed to hold up the sky. Under its dragon might, all living beings bowed in submission.

It soared above the Eastern Domain, as if declaring its arrival to the entire world.

“The Emperor is descending—our Eastern Domain has finally welcomed its destined ruler,” someone whispered, their words spreading across the land and sending shockwaves through all cultivators. No one knew which ancient powerhouse had emerged from seclusion.

“With such a spectacle, he’ll definitely attract unwanted attention,” another voice replied from across the skies, equally audible throughout the domain, shocking countless people.

“Hehehe…”

Laughter echoed.

High above the imperial capital, a thin elder floated in the air—it was his laughter that everyone heard.

“Imperial Mentor! Why are you laughing?”

The cultivators were stunned.

“Could he be that ruthless figure—the one who personally founded the imperial capital?”

The old man stroked his white beard and chuckled.

“No need for concern. With this old man around, I guarantee the rightful heir will come to no harm.”

His words rang out like a warning to all cultivators of the Eastern Domain. His aura alone justified the title of Imperial Mentor.

Silence fell.

The golden dragon hovered above the imperial capital, seemingly ready to dive into it.

Suddenly—

The entire Eastern Domain trembled violently.

The sky, once bathed in golden light, turned pitch black on one side—as if the sun had been swallowed whole.

And from within that darkness, a black dragon emerged, even larger and more powerful than the golden dragon.

Its overwhelming dragon might shook the heavens.

The moment it appeared, it stood in perfect opposition to the golden dragon.

The two divine dragons stared each other down across the skies.

And while everyone’s attention was locked on their celestial clash, no one noticed the swirling mists high above them—where an entire world silently emerged.

Within that mysterious realm, one could clearly see towering mountains, vast rivers, ancient trees reaching the heavens, and countless living creatures…

Everything about that world radiated grandeur and mystery.

But it didn’t last long.

Just as some powerful figures, including the Imperial Mentor, sensed its presence, the world vanished into the mist, disappearing without a trace.

“What a troublesome little fellow,” came a voice tinged with amusement from a secret chamber within Luoxian Sect.

The two massive dragons dominated the skies, their sheer presence enough to shake the heavens.

Their dragon might stirred the entire Eastern Domain, sparking a fierce debate among cultivators over which dragon was stronger—who truly deserved the title of Heaven’s Chosen.

“Of course it’s the golden dragon! That’s Heaven’s chosen Emperor, selected by the Dao itself—a savior meant to lead us into a new golden age!” one excited voice proclaimed, face flushed with passion.

“Not necessarily,” came a cooler response.

“The black dragon is the supreme ruler among dragons, no less powerful than the golden one. They represent emperors and kings respectively. Their battle’s outcome is uncertain, but let’s hope it benefits our Eastern Domain.”

“Well said,” another person added.

“Golden or black—it doesn’t matter. As long as they fight for the people of the Eastern Domain, they’re good dragons. But if either turns traitor, we’ll chop them up and eat them!”

A burly man over two meters tall, dressed in animal hides with a face full of wild beard, bellowed this with such force that everyone instinctively stepped aside.

“Damn!”

“Did he just say eat a dragon? This guy’s insane!”

“He’s from the Valley of Fiends. Of course he’s insane.”

“What?!”

The speaker immediately shut up, as if he’d crossed some forbidden line.

Thus began the battle between Emperor and King.

Meanwhile, atop the lone peak, Han Luo felt the changes in his body and confirmed it without a doubt—he had completed his ninth Spirit Tempering.

He had reached the peak of the ninth refinement.

The floating peak had halted its ascent, suspended in the dark world without descending.

Han Luo looked up into the endless darkness above.

For a fleeting moment… he felt he could keep climbing—break the record.

And that single moment of doubt turned into certainty.

Of course he had to go for it—why else would he have prepared so many supreme grade Spirit Tempering Pills?

His true goal had always been the tenth Spirit Tempering.

Even though it was almost mythical, with no written records, Han Luo’s analysis convinced him he could do it.

He possessed a supreme spiritual root.

Ordinarily, the number of Spirit Temperings one could undergo was tied to the quality of their spiritual root:

Sixth-grade root—six refinements.

Seventh-grade root—seven refinements.

Supreme root—nine refinements.

But clearly, exceptions existed.

Chi Xiao had a sixth-grade root but tempered seven times.

Xian’er had a seventh-grade root but tempered eight times.

So with a supreme root, ten refinements should be the true limit.

His certainty wasn’t based on blind arrogance—but on careful observation, analysis, and data collected from tens of thousands of Spirit Temperings.

He believed in the numbers—and he believed in himself.

Without hesitation, he took out another supreme grade Spirit Tempering Pill and swallowed it.

The peak trembled, and the ascent resumed.

But this time, the speed was tens of times slower—like a crawling snail. Without close observation, one might not even notice it moving at all.

Han Luo wasn’t anxious.

He sat calmly on the peak, patiently refining the pill’s power.

Suddenly—

A gentle light brushed across his face.

Instinctively, he opened his eyes.

And upon seeing what was around him—

His mind went completely blank.