CHAPTER 16
He turned slowly, his breath caught in his chest, and what met his eyes was a vision so unfathomable that words themselves threatened to fail. Behind him floated four colossal, hazy rings—vast, faint circles aligned in a wheel-like formation. They overlapped one another as if each existed in a separate dimension yet touched upon the same space, giving the impression of staring at four cosmic universes layered over one another.
If one dared to gaze too closely, the truth became horrifyingly clear: each of these rings was not merely a circle of light, but a multiverse in its own right. Within each, trillions of worlds lay encased, countless realms pulsing with mysteries that no mind, mortal or divine, could ever dissipate or unravel. They were doors into infinity, and each door whispered a truth that clawed at the edges of comprehension.
He recognized them. He could distinguish between each path clearly, for they were not just random rings—they were the reflections of his very soul. His three newly forged souls had merged alongside his original Law Path soul. Now four souls stood within him, four eternal anchors. Each one had devoured a heavenly treasure, feasting on its blessing, binding themselves to paths so extreme that even the heavens trembled to contain them.
The weight of this realization pressed down on him. He could sense the power rising from within, a tidal wave of might that refused to be contained. From deep inside, a clear message echoed—words not spoken, but carved directly into his soul:
"You are bound to paths that none can sever. You are marked by destinies that no heavens can erase."
The soul rings had not yet fully emerged, not yet solidified, yet already he felt the awakening coursing through his veins. His body shuddered, each heartbeat threatening to burst into explosions of divine power. The circles began to rotate slowly, grinding against unseen laws of existence, and as they did—an overwhelming intent descended.
A killing intent.
So immense, so suffocating, that it sent icy sweat trickling down his back. His very soul staggered beneath it. For an instant, his thoughts scattered like leaves before a storm. Yet instinct surged. His spirit rallied and calmed, for he knew this killing intent was not born of any man, demon, or immortal. No—it was the wrath of the Heavenly Dao itself.
At that realization, his eyes sharpened. A golden-silver glow lit his gaze, twin flames that cut through illusion. The veil of the formation surrounding him was nothing before that sight. His vision pierced outward, and everything in the world beyond lay bare before him.
What he saw froze his breath.
The sky was drowned in storm. Clouds, black and endless, boiled above the mountain. Nine-colored lightning arcs—so vast they split heavens themselves—thrashed and raged, tearing the firmament apart. The mountain shook as if it were about to collapse into dust. All around, cultivators bled from their mouths, their bodies breaking beneath the pressure. Screams echoed. The proud immortals, those who had endured countless calamities, found themselves powerless, unable to even stand against the weight of such fury.
It was as though the end of days had come.
Mighty experts wailed as their spirits cracked. Seers, desperate to divine the cause and effect of this chaos, peered into their arts—only to be crushed by backlash, their eyes streaming blood before they collapsed in agony. The heavens had declared war, and the world trembled.
The Heavenly Dao was enraged. Utterly enraged.
His act—his unconventional defiance of the natural order—had drawn its fury. And yet… it could not touch him. Not directly.
For the Heavenly Dao, in all its infinite wrath, could not pinpoint his exact location. His soul, vast and unyielding, rivaled the heavens themselves. And the ancient formation that cocooned him blurred his trace, shielding him from its divine gaze.
Still, he knew better than to tempt fate.
He drew in a deep breath and immediately suppressed everything. His aura retracted, folded into nothingness. Not even the faintest ripple of his presence escaped. Within him, his four souls went still, their radiance dimmed to silence.
The storm above began to calm. The roars of thunder lessened, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed peace might return.
But he was wrong.
The pressure did not vanish. It intensified. The silence was worse than the storm, for in that silence, the air itself screamed.
Then—it appeared.
A colossal golden eye tore through the heavens. It manifested amidst the seething clouds, vast and merciless, glaring down into the world from a rift in space itself. Around it stretched a chilling void, edges cracked like shattered glass. Reality bent beneath its presence. This was no mere projection. This was the embodiment of the Heavenly Dao itself. Pure, undiluted, unrestrained.
Its gaze fell.
Cold. Emotionless. Boundless.
The moment its eye opened, the land for millions of miles quaked. Mountains bent. Rivers froze. Entire forests withered in an instant. Beasts and men alike collapsed, their bodies trembling uncontrollably as if the marrow of their bones demanded prostration. All were reduced to insects beneath the gaze of eternity.
No words, no intent, no sound—just the gaze.
The truth was undeniable. The Heavenly Dao could not be offended. It could not be defied. Its vengeance was eternal, its wrath inescapable.
And now… it was searching.
Its golden eye swept across the land, searching, probing, peeling back layer after layer of reality. Every being in its path screamed, bled, or bowed. It was a gaze that pierced through lies, through shadows, through dimensions themselves.
And though he had hidden, though the formation veiled him… he felt it.
The weight of that eye.
Pressing. Bearing down. Searching.
His chest tightened. His hands clenched. The four rings behind him spun faster, as if agitated, as if ready to burst forth in defiance. His heart thundered.
Would the Heavenly Dao find him?
Would his secret be torn apart beneath that merciless gaze?
The silence stretched. The pressure grew heavier, heavier still, until it felt as though his very bones would shatter. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes, glowing silver and gold, did not waver—but within, he could not deny the dread gnawing at him.
The golden eye flared. A storm of light surged across the heavens.
And in that instance ;