The chamber was still, but inside Haotian's body, storms raged.
He closed his eyes and sank deep into meditation, reaching for the core of his Ten Elemental Body Physique. Each element pulsed faintly within his veins, like ten rivers flowing through one ocean:
Fire, eager and consuming.
Water, patient and fluid.
Earth, steady and unyielding.
Wind, elusive and swift.
Lightning, fierce and destructive.
Ice, pure and binding.
Light, radiant and cleansing.
Darkness, silent and devouring.
Metal, sharp and resonant.
Wood, nurturing and enduring.
Before, he had treated them as separate forces, balancing and tempering his physique. But now, under the lens of his Dao of the Universe, he realized they were not separate at all.
They were threads of one tapestry.
Haotian turned back to the Heaven Sundering Trinity Scripture. Its principles of body, chi, and soul became anchors as he began weaving the elements into it.
Body as the vessel of heaven — strengthened by earth, metal, and wood.Chi as the current of time — sharpened by lightning, wind, and fire.Soul as the mirror of space — deepened by water, ice, light, and darkness.
The scripture pulsed within his golden text library. For the first time, it did not resist modification. Instead, it embraced the change, flowing seamlessly into the cycles of the ten elements.
Haotian's three cores resonated — their harmonies no longer clashing, but layered by the elements, guided by his Dao. His aura began to expand, not violently, but steadily, like a tide that could not be turned back.
He raised his hand, chi flowing.
A lotus of pure flame bloomed above his palm, flickering brilliantly — but its petals were edged with frost, its stem rooted in earth, its glow shimmering with faint strands of light and shadow. Within the lotus, lightning pulsed, wind swirled, and metal chimed faintly.
Ten elements, perfectly contained.
His golden eyes widened.
"…This is it."
The lotus collapsed silently, its chi absorbed back into his body. He felt the shift immediately: his cultivation cycle surged forward, the pace tripling, then quadrupling. Where before the wall of late-stage Saint Realm had loomed distant, now he could feel the cracks in its surface.
Haotian exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"This… this is the path. Not endless slaughter. Not blind killing."
He clenched his fist, his voice steady with newfound certainty.
"With the Ten Elements as fuel, and the Dao of the Universe as the canopy… I will step into the Emperor Realm faster than they expect. And when the abyss comes, I'll be ready."
The chamber trembled faintly with his chi before stilling again.
For the first time since Alter's departure, Haotian felt no hesitation.
Haotian sat in stillness, his breath even, his golden eyes closed. The echoes of his discovery — the Ten Elements woven into the Heaven Sundering Trinity Scripture — still thrummed through his cores.
But his mind wandered further.
"Emperor Realm… yes, this path will take me there. But beyond that… Immortal."
The word alone sent a chill down his spine. The Immortal Realm was not simply power — it was transcendence, body and soul carried beyond the cycle of death itself. No scripture in the Orchid libraries spoke of it. Not even the Four Saints had guidance for that peak.
If the Ten Elements refine my chi and Dao, then what tempers my body for the Immortal step?
He lowered his awareness inward. His body pulsed with the familiar rhythm of the Undying Dragon Body Sutra. Twelve stages of tempering — marrow, blood, bone, flesh — already cultivated to perfection. At the twelfth stage, even dismemberment was nothing; as long as chi remained, his body could regrow, restore, and fight again.
Yet compared to the enormity of the Immortal Realm, even this felt like a foundation, not the summit.
"What if…"
The thought came unbidden, striking him like lightning.
"What if I merge the Undying Dragon Body Sutra with the Ten Elemental Body Physique?"
His golden eyes snapped open. The air around him pulsed.
The sutra was built on principles of resilience and rebirth, derived from dragon marrow and divine regeneration. The physique, by contrast, was an elemental crucible, harmonizing all forces of heaven and earth within one body.
If the two could fuse… then his body would not simply endure — it would evolve endlessly.
Not only would he step into the Emperor Realm with certainty, but his body itself might transform into the foundation necessary for Immortal ascension.
But as the idea took shape, so did the dangers.
The Undying Dragon Body Sutra was already perfected to its twelfth stage. To alter it risked unraveling the very resilience that sustained him through battles and near-death ordeals.
The Ten Elemental Body Physique was equally fragile. To force a merger could collapse its harmony — turning his body into a battlefield of elements tearing one another apart.
This path is madness… he thought. But the Immortal Realm cannot be reached by walking safely.
His fist clenched, and the chamber's stones cracked beneath his fingers.
"I will do it," Haotian murmured, voice low but unwavering. "The Undying Dragon Sutra is the body, the Ten Elements are the soul of flesh. Together, they will forge a vessel capable of carrying me into the Immortal Realm."
The words rang like an oath. His eyes glowed faintly, sharper than before.
This was not Alter's path. Not the Four Saints' path. Not anyone else's.
It was his.
Haotian sealed himself within his chamber, weaving triple layers of soundless and concealment formations until not even Xiangyin could sense his presence. He sat cross-legged, bare-chested, his body glowing faintly with the pulsing rhythm of the Undying Dragon Body Sutra.
Every breath expanded his lungs like bellows, every exhale vibrated with the resonance of dragons, his bones groaning faintly as if alive. His flesh carried the weight of twelve perfected stages — regeneration, reinforcement, resilience — each muscle fiber humming with chi.
Then he lowered his awareness deeper, into the ten rivers flowing beneath: the Ten Elemental Body Physique.
Fire coursed through his blood like molten rivers.Ice threaded through his marrow in silver veins.Lightning sparked in his nerves, quick and violent.Earth and metal bound his skeleton solid.Wind curled through his breath.Light and darkness coiled within his heart.Wood stretched like roots through his meridians.
Two systems, both perfected in their own right, both never meant to meet.
Haotian exhaled slowly.
"…Begin."
He guided the rhythm of the Undying Dragon Body Sutra into the elemental flows. At once, resistance struck.
His flesh trembled, one half trying to regenerate endlessly, the other half surging with unstable elemental currents. The Fire and Ice elements clashed within his veins — boiling heat against freezing cold. Lightning convulsed through his nervous system, threatening to shatter bones already straining under the Sutra's pressure.
Hold it steady! he told himself, teeth clenched.
The Dao of the Universe flared within his consciousness, his golden eyes snapping open, glowing. The universal canopy spread across his inner world, binding the chaotic clash under a single law: unification.
The sutra's cycles slowed, adapted, then bent. Instead of pushing against the elements, it wove through them.
His flesh burned. His bones iced. His blood sparked. For a terrifying moment, it felt as though his body would rip apart.
Then, silence.
Haotian looked inward — and gasped.
One small section of his body, no larger than a single fingernail of bone in his forearm, had successfully merged. The marrow there pulsed with draconic resilience and elemental force, fused perfectly.
It was small. Infinitesimal compared to the whole. But it was real.
His lips curved into a sharp smile despite the sweat pouring down his face.
"…It can be done."
But then the backlash came.
The rest of his body rejected the partial fusion, his organs convulsing, blood bursting from his nose and mouth. He coughed, body shuddering violently, until he slammed his hand against the floor and forced the Undying Dragon Sutra to stabilize.
Regeneration surged, healing the torn muscles and ruptured veins. The pain ebbed, though exhaustion lingered.
Haotian slumped back, breathing hard. His body trembled, but his eyes burned with determination.
"One fragment in seven hours…" he whispered. "…At this rate, it will take decades. No — longer."
Then he smiled faintly, fierce.
"But if I can do one… I can do all."
His hands clenched into fists.
"The path to Immortal begins here."
Haotian sealed himself off from the world. His chamber became a crucible — no sound escaped, no aura leaked, only faint tremors in the air like a volcano holding its breath.
Day after day, he sat bare-chested on the stone floor, his skin marked with faint glowing veins of fire, frost, and lightning as the Ten Elements warred within him. His breath roared like a furnace, then hissed like ice cracking over water. His bones groaned as if struck by hammers, his flesh split and knit back together.
Every cycle was agony.
The Undying Dragon Body Sutra demanded constant regeneration — his blood was burned, frozen, shattered, then forced to reform. But his body never collapsed. Instead, it adapted.
A single bone. Then a whole forearm. Then the marrow of his ribs.
After a week, his skeletal frame pulsed with fragments of fusion, patches of bone carrying both draconic resilience and elemental resonance.
By the second week, strands of muscle followed. Veins of fire coiled with veins of lightning. Frost threaded through sinew. His organs groaned under elemental baptism, his heart pounding like a war drum as lightning merged into its rhythm.
Each success was small. Each failure catastrophic — sending him coughing blood, his body collapsing, sometimes unconscious for hours until the Sutra pulled him back together.
But he endured.
By the third week, a terrifying transformation began to show.
When Haotian clenched his fist, fire flared across his knuckles, ice steamed off his forearm, and lightning cracked between his fingers.
When he exhaled, his breath shimmered with wind and light, but shadows followed in its wake.
When he pressed his palm to the ground, the stone beneath him did not crack — it withered, reduced to sand by the harmony of elements working in tandem.
He looked inward with his Eyes of the Universe. His body was no longer separate parts stitched together — it was slowly becoming a single living forge, each element woven into bone, blood, flesh, and soul.
Yet still, the process was incomplete. Less than half his body had fused.
But the price was steep.
His nights were sleepless, his meditations filled with screams of torn muscle and ruptured veins. His skin split open under elemental pressure, only to heal again under the Sutra's regeneration. His teeth clenched so tightly during failure that his jaw cracked more than once.
Every day, he collapsed. Every day, he rose again.
He stopped counting hours. Weeks blurred into cycles of pain and rebirth.
But through it all, his eyes burned.
"I will forge this body," he whispered through bloodied lips. "Even if I have to die and revive a thousand times. I will not stop."
At the end of the fifth week, Haotian sat in meditation.
For the first time, his body fell silent. No clashes of fire and frost, no screaming nerves, no tearing marrow.
Instead — harmony.
The ten elements pulsed together in rhythm with the Undying Dragon Sutra, his body glowing faintly like a constellation of stars. Every heartbeat carried elemental resonance. Every breath carried universal balance.
He opened his golden eyes, exhaling softly.
"…It's working."
Though the fusion was incomplete, his entire being hummed with the sense of inevitability. His body itself was evolving beyond mortal flesh — the seed of something greater. The seed of an Immortal Vessel.
Time lost its meaning inside Haotian's chamber. Seasons shifted outside, but within, only the cycle of pain and regeneration marked the days.
His body had been broken and rebuilt so many times that even the stone floor beneath him bore grooves where his blood had pooled and dried. His clothes long since shredded, his skin marred with glowing lines of fire, frost, and lightning.
But he endured.
Every morning he forced his marrow to burn with elemental fire.Every noon he froze his veins in glacial rivers.Every evening he drowned his flesh in lightning until his nerves screamed.And every night the Undying Dragon Sutra stitched him back together, stronger, more attuned, more whole.
One fragment at a time. One bone. One muscle. One organ.
Months passed.
Until, at last, there was nothing left to separate.
Haotian sat cross-legged in silence. His body glowed faintly, every inch of his flesh alive with elemental resonance. But it was still incomplete. A sliver remained — the final convergence, where his body would no longer house the elements, but become them.
He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. The Dao of the Universe unfurled within him, a canopy spanning his inner world.
The ten elements surged together: Fire roared, Water flowed, Earth held firm, Wind spun wild. Lightning cracked, Ice bound, Metal rang, Wood pulsed, Light burned, Darkness devoured.
For a moment, the clash was overwhelming — ten great storms colliding in his veins. His flesh split, blood poured, his organs screamed. He nearly lost hold.
Then he let the Sutra breathe.
Regeneration surged, not against the elements, but with them. Flesh became fire and ice. Bone rang like metal and stone. Blood coursed with wood and lightning. His soul pulsed with light and shadow.
They did not oppose — they harmonized.
His body shook violently, a radiant glow spilling from his pores, until—
Silence.
Haotian opened his eyes.
They burned gold, but deeper than before, as though galaxies spun faintly within. His skin shimmered faintly, not with aura, but with a natural resonance of the ten elements fused into one.
He clenched his fist. The chamber trembled. A single pulse of chi rippled outward, turning stone to dust, then reforming it into polished crystal without a thought.
"…It's done." His voice was low, calm, but carried weight like mountains.
The Undying Dragon Body Sutra and the Ten Elemental Body Physique were no longer separate. They had merged into a single cultivation of body — the Eternal Dragon Elemental Body.
His body was no longer just resilient. It was a vessel capable of evolving endlessly, each element feeding and balancing the other. A body not meant for mortality, but for eternity.
The seed of immortality had sprouted.
Haotian leaned back, breathing slowly. His body no longer trembled, no longer screamed. For the first time in months, it felt natural — effortless.
He smiled faintly, though exhaustion lingered in his eyes.
"This… this will take me to Emperor. And beyond, to Immortal."
The months of agony had not broken him. They had remade him.
And when he stood again, his footsteps were quiet, but the ground beneath his chamber seemed to hum — as though the world itself acknowledged that something had changed.
The Eternal Yin Orchid Sect had grown used to the silence of Haotian's seclusion. For months, disciples walked past his chamber with hushed voices, glancing at the sealed doors but never daring to linger.
But on this day, silence broke.
A deep tremor rippled through the Pavilion grounds. The mountain peak itself seemed to hum, its stones resonating faintly with unseen forces. The lotus banners trembled, not from wind, but from chi itself.
Disciples gasped, clutching their robes as they felt it — a pulse that carried all ten elements at once, harmonized into a single rhythm. Fire and frost. Wind and stone. Light and shadow. Lightning and wood. Metal and water. All singing together in perfect balance.
The air itself seemed alive.
"Senior Brother…" one whispered, eyes wide."He's… returning."
The three sisters — Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue — felt it first, before the others. Their bonds to him quivered like strings pulled taut, their hearts racing with recognition.
"He's breaking through," Ziyue gasped, rising to her feet. "I can feel it—he's changed!"
Shuyue's hands trembled as she clasped them to her chest. "Please… let him be safe this time."
Even Yinxue, usually composed, broke into a near-run. "Come! Now!"
The three sisters tore through the Pavilion, disciples parting as they surged toward his chamber.
From the Orchid Palace, Madame Xiangyin rose in the middle of council, her Sovereign aura flaring in alarm. She did not ask permission or explain — she simply vanished, teleporting directly to the Pavilion.
When she reappeared, the sisters were already there, pounding at Haotian's sealed door. Energy surged and cracked across its surface, golden threads unraveling.
The protective formations he had woven to hide his cultivation dissolved with a hiss, one by one.
Then — silence.
The door creaked open.
Haotian stepped out.
He looked the same — his hair flame-dark, his robes plain — yet utterly different. His golden eyes were deeper, his body carried no pressure yet bent the air around him. Each step was quiet, but the world seemed to acknowledge his existence with a faint hum, as though all ten elements whispered his name.
The sisters froze, eyes wide, their emotions tangled between joy and awe.
"Senior Brother…" Shuyue whispered, her voice breaking.
Yinxue's breath caught. "Your aura… it's…"
Xiangyin stared in stunned silence, her Sovereign senses overwhelmed. She saw no imbalance, no flaw, no instability. Only perfection.
Haotian smiled faintly, his voice calm and warm.
"I'm back."
Suddenly, the skies above the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect darkened without warning. Dawn's warmth vanished, swallowed by a rolling tide of black storm clouds. Thunder pulsed like a war drum, each beat making the mountains tremble. Lightning streaked jagged lines across the heavens, weaving a net of destruction so vast that even Sovereigns watching from their peaks stiffened in alarm.
From the courtyards below, disciples pointed skyward with pale faces. "Heavenly Tribulation," someone whispered. Another voice cried out, "No—Sovereign Tribulation!" Gasps rippled like wildfire. To break through was one thing; to leap directly from mid-stage Saint to Sovereign in one go was nearly unthinkable. Yet the aura swelling within the Moon Lotus Pavilion was undeniable. It was not a storm of chaos, but one of terrifying harmony. Ten elemental forces—fire, water, earth, wind, lightning, ice, metal, wood, light, and darkness—roared together as though bowing beneath one will.
Haotian and the three sisters watched as the Tribulation continued to grow. Then Haotian chuckled and told the sisters to wait for him. He rose into the sky to meet the Tribulation head on. The three sisters all watched in worry, fearing for their lover.
In the sky, Haotian's robes snapped like banners in the storm winds, his golden eyes unblinking even as thunderbolts capable of erasing mountains rained down. Each strike should have destroyed him, burning Saint flesh to ash. But the Undying Dragon Body Sutra howled within his marrow, repairing every rupture, while the Ten Elemental Body Physique devoured the storm's wrath and reforged it into strength.
Then the tribulation deepened. The heavens themselves convulsed as if in rage. Golden lightning coiled into existence, heavy with judgment. The sect below screamed, disciples falling to their knees in awe and terror.
And at that moment, from within Haotian's sea of consciousness, a roar erupted.
Ninety-nine Flood Dragons surged forth, each colossal, their scales glimmering with primal brilliance. They circled him in the sky, their thunderous cries reverberating across the heavens. Below, disciples screamed and elders gasped — even Sovereigns had never seen such a vision.
The dragons' scales shifted and shimmered, their colors splitting into ten distinct hues: flame red, glacial blue, golden earth, jade green, silver metal, violet lightning, pale light, abyssal shadow, white wind, and deep ocean. Together they painted the heavens in elemental glory.
Haotian's body trembled, not from weakness but resonance. His sea of consciousness expanded beyond the horizon, and from within it surged his Dao Avatar.
It rose higher and higher until it towered over the sect — four hundred meters tall, golden-eyed, with dragon horns crackling in Golden arcs. Its presence pressed down on every heart below, sovereign or disciple alike.
The ninety-nine Flood Dragons roared as one and spiraled into formation, converging into the Dao Avatar's chest. Light erupted, dazzling and violent, as if the sky itself split open.
Then — explosion.
Blinding radiance washed the heavens. The 99 dragons fused into a single colossal form, its body stretching across the horizon, a flood dragon over 1,500 meters long, scales rippling in rainbow brilliance. Its presence bent heaven and earth, as if declaring itself lord of all elements.
The disciples wept, some from fear, some from awe. Elders bowed instinctively. Even Sovereigns watching from far-off peaks stiffened in disbelief.
Haotian, though, remained calm. His gaze turned inward.
Within his sea of consciousness, beneath the starry canopy of the Dao of the Universe, a new foundation pulsed. The cracks of golden lightning had not only scarred his Dao — they had seeded something greater. A new Dao unfurled like a dragon taking flight:
The Eternal Elemental Dragon Dao.
It encompassed the Undying Dragon Body Sutra, merged seamlessly with the Ten Elemental Body Physique, and now bore the harmony of all elements, fused into draconic eternity.
His lips curved faintly. So this is the scar heaven gave me. Not punishment… but rebirth.
Below, his three sisters stared skyward.
Yinxue's hands trembled, tears in her eyes, her Dao of Love quivering as if it could not contain her devotion.
Ziyue's expression was cold but her heart hammered — her Time Dao sensed the shift in eternity itself.
Shuyue pressed her hands together in silent awe, her Seven Virtues trembling, her Loyalty burning so bright it nearly burst from her chest.
They were not simply watching their lover ascend. They were watching him redefine heaven's law.
Above them all, the rainbow flood dragon coiled, a serpent of eternity blazing across the storm.
And Haotian laughed into the storm, his voice rolling like thunder itself.
"Is this all? If the heavens would temper me, then strike harder! Leigong—do you fear me?"
The heavens paused. The clouds shuddered. Then a voice rolled across the storm, ancient and vast, the sound of punishment itself.
"Mortal… you dare call my name?"
The disciples fell to their knees, their bodies quaking beneath the weight of it. For they all knew the name: Leigong, the Arbiter of Punishment, the Hammer of Heaven's Will. His bolts were said to weigh karma itself. His crimson flame had shattered Sovereigns who faltered at the edge of Immortality.
But Haotian tilted his head, golden eyes burning with calm defiance. "I dare. Do not insult me with trifles. Strike with all your might."
The storm seethed. The golden veins of lightning boiled, darkened, and deepened until the heavens glowed with molten crimson.
Gasps echoed across the sect. "Crimson lightning…" someone choked out. "That's… the Immortal Trial!" For Emperors only. For those about to ascend beyond mortality itself. To descend such fury on a Saint was not trial, but execution.
The clouds rumbled, Leigong's voice shaking the peaks."Child of arrogance. This crimson flame tempers Emperors for Immortality. You are Saint. One strike will erase you."
But Haotian laughed harder, spreading his arms wide. Lightning danced along his veins, his blood ran molten with fire and frost, his heart roared with thunder. "Erase me? Then try! If I collapse, I'll rebuild. If I shatter, I'll forge anew. Come, Leigong—show me whether heaven's wrath is stronger than my will!"
The heavens roared. A single colossal bolt of crimson lightning, vast as a mountain range, gathered into a hammer of annihilation. The world itself held its breath.
And Haotian soared upward to meet it."STRIKE HARDER!"
The bolt engulfed him. Space tore. Reality screamed. The mountains convulsed as crimson fire devoured heaven and earth. The sect below screamed in terror, shielding their eyes. For a moment, there was only annihilation.
Then silence.
When the light cleared, Haotian floated bloodied, torn, his body smoking—but alive. His chest rose steady. His golden eyes still burned.
The crimson arcs lingered in his veins, searing into his marrow, etching cracks of heavenly thunder into his Dao. His body had not just endured. It had been remade. His veins glowed with lightning, his bones pulsed with thunder, his Dao of the Universe bore crimson scars that carried judgment itself.
Leigong's voice rolled again, quieter now, edged with something almost like respect. "…To endure crimson lightning without collapsing… you are mad. But perhaps… you are fated."
The storm dispersed, the heavens retreating. The tribulation had not destroyed him. It had acknowledged him.
Haotian exhaled softly, smiling faintly through the blood. "Good. That's more like it."
When he descended, his aura was no longer just Sovereign. He was something beyond, a being marked by the heavens with crimson fire.
And though he smiled gently, the world had seen it: this was no ordinary ascension. This was defiance, tempered by heaven's own hand.