Chapter 435: Chapter 435 Stream
Valery cultivated in utter stillness, seated amid deathly silence, yet her ascent through the ranks of cultivation shook the very foundations of the world.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Each muffled explosion echoed not through sound alone, but through reality itself. Invisible barriers shattered as her cultivation leapt forward, realms collapsing behind her like discarded shells.
In mere moments, she crossed thresholds that would have taken ordinary beings centuries—no, millennia—to approach.
Her breathing remained calm. Her expression unchanged.
Spiritual essence rushed toward her from every direction, thin and diluted though it was.
In this desolate realm, such energy would normally be considered pitiful, barely sufficient for even the most basic cultivation.
Yet for Valery, it was more than enough.
Like a starving land meeting an endless abyss, every wisp of essence that entered her body vanished without resistance.
After all, she was alone.
This world, for all intents and purposes, was nothing more than a minor world—an abandoned backwater at the edge of existence.
True cultivators did not linger here.
Those who sought the Dao would eventually ascend, tearing through the limits of this realm to reach higher universes where cultivators gathered in vast numbers, their presence as common as dust in the wind.
But Valery remained.
And so, the world itself was forced to bear witness.
No one knew the true reason, yet signs of her breakthroughs soon manifested beyond denial.
The heavens began to stir.
Clouds gathered unnaturally, drawn from the farthest horizons as though summoned by an unseen will.
The sky over every other land grew eerily clear, stripped of stars and moonlight alike, as all celestial phenomena were siphoned toward a single point.
The White Bone City.
Above it, the clouds churned violently, layering upon one another until the sky itself seemed to collapse inward.
Pale lightning slithered between them, silent yet terrifying, illuminating the city in ghostly flashes.
The air grew thick, heavy enough to suffocate, and even the wind dared not blow.
Deep within the city, Valery continued her cultivation, oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to the chaos above.
Below, panic erupted.
"What’s happening?!"
"The heavens are moving—this isn’t natural!"
"God... God has descended to judge us!"
"Repent! Repent, all of you sinners before it’s too late!"
Some screamed. Others wept.
Countless people fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads against the cold stone streets, praying to deities they had long forgotten.
Temples overflowed as bells rang madly, monks chanting until their voices broke.
Yet not everyone was consumed by fear.
A handful of people stared upward with widened eyes, hearts pounding—not in terror, but in fascination.
"...Curious," one whispered, unable to look away.
"This doesn’t feel like judgment," another muttered. "It feels like... something more evil."
No matter their interpretation, none could deny the truth.
Something unprecedented was happening.
That night would be etched into history.
Scrolls would be written, legends distorted, and myths born.
Future generations would argue endlessly over what truly occurred above the White Bone City—whether it was divine wrath, heavenly punishment, or the descent of a god.
But none of them would know the real answer.
That it was merely the byproduct of a single woman cultivating—
and a minor world struggling to endure her rise.
While the rest of the world remained utterly clueless, Riley simply smiled.
He awoke in the dead of night, eyes opening without confusion or grogginess, as if he had never truly fallen asleep to begin with.
The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains.
Behind him, the bed rose and fell gently with the steady breathing of his two wives, their bodies relaxed, expressions peaceful after a long and exhausting night.
Riley moved carefully, silently, rising from the bed without disturbing them. He did not bother to dress.
There was no need for modesty here, no need for haste. This moment had been a long time coming.
He walked toward the window, bare feet touching the cold floor, and pulled the curtain aside.
Outside, the night sky was wrong.
Clouds twisted and shifted in slow, unnatural patterns, converging from every direction as if guided by an invisible hand.
Stars vanished one by one, swallowed by the gathering mass, while the moon itself seemed dimmer—overshadowed by the looming phenomenon.
The air beyond the glass felt heavy even from within the room, carrying a pressure that made lesser men uneasy.
Riley, however, felt none of that fear.
Instead, his smile deepened.
"So it’s finally begun..." he murmured, voice low and calm.
He rested a hand against the window, eyes sharp as they traced the movement of the clouds, following their convergence toward a single distant point.
To others, this was a mystery. To scholars, a disaster. To the faithful, divine judgment.
To Riley, it was confirmation.
"Finally," he said again, softer this time. "She is here."
He nodded slowly, as if acknowledging an old promise finally fulfilled.
Years of waiting, watching, and quiet preparation had led to this night.
The world trembled without understanding why—but he did.
Riley remained by the window for a long while, standing tall and unmoving, his gaze fixed on the heavens as the strange spectacle continued to unfold.
Somewhere far away, a force long absent had returned, and the balance of this minor world was already beginning to shift.
And unlike everyone else, Riley welcomed it.
***
Morning arrived, yet the events of the previous night continued to dominate the entire city.
White Bone City, which was usually calm at dawn, buzzed with restless energy.
Market stalls opened later than usual, guards lingered at street corners longer than necessary, and clusters of people gathered wherever they could, voices low yet animated.
"Does anyone know what that thing was last night?"
"I thought the sky was going to collapse. My whole house was shaking."
"Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl."
"I don’t care what it was," someone declared confidently. "The heavens moved above our city. That can only mean one thing—White Bone City is blessed by the gods!"
Speculation spread like wildfire. Fear mixed with pride, superstition with excitement.
Yet none of them came close to the truth.
They did not know that the real cause of the phenomenon was already awake—already moving among them as naturally as any ordinary person.
Valery rose at her usual hour.
Sunlight filtered softly into her chambers as maidservants entered one by one, heads lowered, steps light.
Water was prepared, scented faintly with herbs. Valery disrobed without ceremony and stepped into the bath, allowing the warmth to wash over her body while the servants worked in practiced silence.
Her expression remained calm, but her thoughts drifted.
Last night’s cultivation replayed vividly in her mind—the surge of power, the shattering of invisible limits, the heavens answering her ascent.
When it had all ended, she had not rested. Instead, she had reached outward with her consciousness, stretching it beyond the boundaries of this minor world.
She had searched.
She had called.
Primordial Heavenly Ancestor...
There had been nothing.
No response. No guidance. No acknowledgment.
Only endless silence.
Valery opened her eyes beneath the steam.
So even this isn’t enough, she concluded without bitterness. Then I’ll simply go further.
Once dressed, she proceeded to the dining hall.
Breakfast unfolded as it always did—simple, familiar, grounding.
The clink of utensils, the quiet exchanges between family members, the calm rhythm of routine.
Valery listened absently, her gaze drifting from face to face until it finally rested on Riley.
Her father.
He looked the same as always—composed, attentive, alive.
Warmth stirred in her chest, faint yet undeniable, easing the cold fracture she carried deep within her heart.
No matter how far she advanced, no matter how vast the gap became, this was still the man who had raised her.
At least... for now.
I need to become stronger, she thought. Perhaps after I reach the Divine Tribulation Realm, I can properly search for him. Maybe then...
She did not finish the thought.
After breakfast, Valery returned to training.
The hours passed in disciplined repetition.
Her movements were crisp, refined, and terrifyingly efficient.
Each strike carried intent; each step aligned perfectly with her breath.
By the time she stepped onto the training grounds opposite Riley, her body and mind were in flawless harmony.
As always, they dueled.
Wooden swords met with sharp, resonant sounds.
Tak.
Tak.
Tak.
Their figures blurred as they moved—advancing, retreating, circling.
Riley’s experience showed in every calculated strike, every feint and counter.
Valery responded effortlessly, matching him move for move, her expression composed, eyes clear.
To an onlooker, they appeared evenly matched.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
Sweat formed along Riley’s brow.
His breathing grew heavier, each exhale a little slower than the last.
Meanwhile, Valery’s stance remained steady, her movements smooth and unbroken, as though time itself flowed differently for her.
Yet she did not press him.
She held back—instinctively.
Finally, Riley stepped back.
"Let’s stop here," he said, voice rough, chest heaving.
Valery halted at once.
She blinked, genuinely surprised.
Only then did she realize how much time had passed.
More than an hour.
Her gaze fell to Riley’s hands.
They were trembling now, fingers barely able to keep hold of the wooden sword.
His shoulders rose and fell unevenly, the strain unmistakable.
And still—she felt nothing.
No fatigue. No soreness. Not even warmth.
Valery slowly lowered her sword.
Riley looked at her with calm eyes and unmistakable pride, as though the trembling in his hands no longer mattered.
In his gaze, she saw not concern, but quiet affirmation.
A thought surfaced in her mind, steady and resolute.
It seems I need to tell him something, Valery mused. Not the whole truth... but at least a part of it.
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