Your Spell Version is Too Low!

With that sliver of golden nature returned to him, Qi Yun’s thoughts shifted. True to his word, he withdrew the brilliant great sun, no longer letting it crash toward Vidyārāja Bodhisattva’s Fruit Position.

All that remained in the void were the fissures of Dao Traces, still humming from the clash of the two Fruit Positions, and a lingering might that made the heart palpitate.

Having returned to the sky above Spirit Mountain to stand among the other Bodhisattvas, all emotional color seemed drained from Vidyārāja Bodhisattva’s three faces, leaving only a cold, ashen pallor.

The once-blazing green flames of the guardian Vidyārāja that had surrounded him now flickered uncertainly, as dim as dying embers.

Having lost a sliver of his origin’s golden nature, coupled with the fundamental destabilization caused by the violent tremor of his Fruit Position, his cultivation had been set back by no less than three hundred years!

Moreover, his heart had grown cold with disappointment toward his fellow disciples—usually close, yet now they simply stood by and watched.

Thus, no matter that Dragon Elephant Bodhisattva was chanting sutras or that Treasure Tree Bodhisattva’s eyes showed pity.

Vidyārāja Bodhisattva just shut his six senses, deaf to all concern, like a clay idol that had lost its worshippers’ incense, leaving only a mottled shell.

Qi Yun took in this bleak, dejected scene among the Bodhisattvas, a faint smile touching his lips. He didn’t linger, dusting off his spotless white sleeves before turning to transform into light and depart.

"Wait."

A hoarse, deep voice, like an echo from the Netherworld rising from the depths of the Nine Netherworld, coiled around Qi Yun’s back like an invisible, cold spider’s thread.

Qi Yun’s steps faltered. He turned halfway, his gaze falling upon the speaker.

The figure was draped in a wide black robe, his face hidden behind a shifting gray mist.

It was none other than the master of the Yellow Springs Netherworld—the Nine Nether Sun-devouring True Monarch.

Qi Yun’s eyebrow arched slightly. Far from being afraid, a light smile spread across his face, and his voice was as clear as a spring striking jade:

"Oh? Fellow Daoist, your words ask me to stay. Could it be that you also wish to have a little ’spar’ with me?"

He uttered the word "spar" so lightly, yet it felt like a pair of invisible, cold blades that suddenly sliced through the stagnant atmosphere.

The gray mist swirling around the Nine Nether Sun-devouring True Monarch froze. His eyes, like Nine Nether Vortexes, suddenly constricted, and the soul-shadows floating within them seemed to let out a silent shriek.

The mad scene from just moments ago in the All Marvelous Heaven—of the blazing white great sun brazenly crashing down—was still fresh in his mind.

Facing such a madman who dared to risk his life with his newly formed Dao Fruit, even a powerful, ancient demon like him couldn’t help but feel a chill in his heart.

Seeing this fearsome Yellow Springs True Monarch’s aura surge and his gray mist churn, yet ultimately fail to take even half a step forward or utter another word, the smile in Qi Yun’s eyes widened, twinkling like starlight.

His gaze swept leisurely over Spirit Mountain, from its peak to its base. The magnificent figures—some radiating vast Buddha Light, some with Dao Rhyme soaring to the heavens, some exuding grim Demonic Qi—were all reflected in his clear pupils.

Then, a long laugh erupted from his throat.

At first, it was clear, then it grew impassioned, finally becoming a booming, carefree laugh that could pierce clouds and shatter stone, echoing thunderously under the celestial vault, which was particularly silent and broken after the conclusion of the world-shaking battle:

"Hehehe... HAHAHAHA!"

Before his laughter died down, he had already taken a casual step forward.

His figure, set against the backdrop of the sky filled with scattered, broken Buddha Light, hazy Dao Rhyme, and drifting dust, appeared especially upright and solitary, yet also possessed a transcendent, carefree air.

He threw his head back and recited aloud, his voice shaking the four corners of the world, filled with the joy of breaking free from a cage and roaming Heaven and Earth as he pleased:

"My true form forged in the furnace of Buddhist will,

I shatter mystic locks, my vision clear and still.

Past a thousand waves of mortal strife,

I ride my luan alone into the endless night!"

After reciting the poem, he didn’t spare the crowd another glance. With a casual flick of his sleeve, his clear laughter still echoing through the vast sky, he transformed into a faint, cool beam of Escape Light and vanished into the boundless depths of the Cyan Netherworld to the south.

Only the joyous poetic rhyme and its carefree echo lingered long above the ravaged Spirit Mountain Sacred Realm, refusing to disperse.

Gazing in the direction the figure had vanished, the True Monarch of No Dao Extreme Law, who had been as silent as eternal Profound Ice, slowly lowered the hands he held behind his back and clicked his tongue.

"So... ’the barefoot isn’t afraid of the one wearing shoes’?"

Though spoken lightly, these words stirred deep and complex ripples of resonance in the Dao Heart of every True Monarch and Bodhisattva present.

To ascend to this realm and achieve the honored position of a True Monarch Bodhisattva, who among them had not fought their way out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, through countless tribulations, and passed through a thousand gates of death and ten thousand perilous passes?

Precisely because they knew how difficult it was to obtain, they cherished their immortal Dao Fruit and transcendent position all the more.

To encounter a loose cannon like this, who dared to gamble his life the moment his foundation was established and threatened to initiate a [Fruit Position Clash] over the slightest disagreement...

Unless one was a madman just like him, who would willingly get their hands dirty over this?

Above the ruins of Spirit Mountain, an indescribable, stagnant atmosphere spread. Fear, caution, helplessness, vexation, and even a faint trace of awe intertwined in the hearts of these beings who stood at the apex of this world.

"Enough."

Qingyuan Dao Seeking True Monarch’s voice, as cold as a glacial spring, shattered the silence. His green robes fluttered slightly, and his gaze, like a deep and ancient well, swept over the collapsed Spirit Mountain Sacred Realm and the crowd with their varied expressions below.

"One side planned, for a hundred years they placed their pieces, and in the end..."

His tone was flat and emotionless, yet it carried the finality of a gavel’s strike.

"The play is over. All schemes have come to nothing.

Are you all still lingering here to mourn this mess and admire the scenery of your defeat?"

Hearing this, the other True Monarchs were silent for a moment before nodding slightly.

Today’s events had been full of unexpected turns, the outcome far beyond anyone’s predictions. There was no benefit in staying.

In an instant, the figures symbolizing the supreme authority in this world began to slowly fade away, departing from this place of conflict.

Just as his figure was about to vanish completely into the void, Qingyuan Dao Seeking True Monarch suddenly stopped. He turned back, his eyes as cold and sharp as a ten-thousand-year-old blade, his gaze landing with tangible weight upon the Buddhist Cultivator Bodhisattvas.

"You have one year."

His tone was level, but it caused the surrounding temperature to plummet.

"All of you Buddhist Cultivators are to retreat Overseas."

He paused slightly, and an invisible sword shadow seemed to flash in his eyes, tearing through the void:

"Any who remain in the Central Earth after the deadline..."

"Will be killed."

"Without."

"Pardon."

The three words were spoken, each weighing a thousand catties. They were like three invisible sword marks that sundered Heaven and Earth, branded into reality, and triggered the Daoist Intent of the Sword Dao in this world to emit a low, murderous hum.

After speaking, without any further delay, the magnificent figures of Qingyuan Dao Seeking True Monarch, along with the other True Monarchs of the Righteous Dao and Demon Dao, completely vanished into nothingness.

Only the cold echo of that final ultimatum was left, reverberating faintly and endlessly above the collapsed Spirit Mountain Sacred Realm, amidst the swirling dust and broken Buddha Light.

Beneath the celestial vault, on the vast battlefield, all that remained was a shocking expanse of ruins and a group of Buddhist Cultivator Bodhisattvas, their faces grim as iron, their gazes dark and complex, all of them speechless.

The wailing mountain wind swept up the last ashes of incense and fragments of gilded tiles, scattering them into the setting sun.

...

Leaving behind the broken chessboard of Spirit Mountain where so many eyes had gathered, the world suddenly seemed to open up.

Qi Yun did not hurry to flee far away. He simply strolled through the void, his pure white sleeves fluttering in the wind.

He lifted his eyes, his gaze seemingly piercing through layers of spatial curtains and the mists of time, landing on a solitary place deep within his memory.

"The West Sea..."

Muttering to himself, he raised a hand and gently waved it at the empty void before him.

The motion was free and fluid, like wiping away dust or parting a fog.

SPLASH—

Suddenly, a majestic sea cliff appeared in the void before him—the very same cliff in the West Sea where he had broken through to the Foundation Establishment Middle Stage years ago.

He casually reached into the unseen Sea of Cause and Effect, plucked out a thread of causality, and with a flick of his finger, sent it flying.

The thread of causality merged into the scene before him.

In an instant, the image of the sea cliff transformed from a static "scene" into something "alive"!

He could "hear" the ceaseless roar of the tide, "smell" the salty, dusty wind of ages, and "feel" the rough, cold stone beneath his feet.

He then took a step forward. His body touched the living image of the sea cliff, and like a drop of water merging with the surface of a lake, it sent out ripples through space.

A single step, a world away.

The next moment, a damp, fierce sea breeze assaulted his face, and the deafening roar of the waves filled Heaven and Earth.

Beneath his feet was the solid, familiar, jagged black rock. Before him was the vast, boundless, deep blue West Sea with its churning waves. Above his head was the vast, high Cyan Netherworld with its drifting clouds.

He had arrived at the lonely cliff in the West Sea.

This place was countless millions of miles from Spirit Mountain, yet he had crossed the distance in a single step.

Stepping once more upon this desolate land that had carried his early cultivation and witnessed his rise on the Dao path, Qi Yun felt no great ripples of emotion in his heart.

The state of mind of a True Monarch had long transcended such common sentiments.

He just stood quietly for a moment, feeling the subtle resonance between the extremely faint traces of his own old aura lingering here and his current, brand-new Dao body, which contained the brilliant Great Sun True Intent.

Then, he bent down slightly, his gaze falling upon a single, ordinary speck of dust at his feet, one that had been weathered by wind and waves for millennia.

The speck of dust was mixed in with the gravel in a rock crevice, indistinguishable from its billions of companions.

With a casual beckon from Qi Yun, the speck of dust lifted from the rock, flew up gracefully, and hovered an inch above his palm, spinning slowly.

He stared at the speck of dust, and an indescribably brilliant light suddenly erupted from his eyes!

A ray of divine light, a fusion of blazing white and noble purple, suddenly shone upon the slowly spinning speck of dust!

"Cave Heaven from dust, let two realms turn."

The low words of power, containing the rhythm of the Dao, sounded softly.

The insignificant speck of dust began to glow with a hazy, dreamlike halo.

Then, it expanded explosively!

It was not a simple increase in size, but a qualitative leap, an unfolding of dimensions!

Purity and turbidity separated; Yin and Yang were born!

The concept of space extended infinitely in all directions, and the flow of time began to mysteriously differ from the outside world...

A speck of dust was evolving into a world!

In just a few breaths, the speck of dust had vanished.

In its place was a vast and boundless world of light, its four corners unknown.

This was precisely the Supreme Divine Technique that Qi Yun had naturally mastered after achieving the rank of True Monarch: the [Cave Heaven Dust Two Realms Technique]!

To hold Sumeru in a mustard seed, to hide a universe in a speck of dust.

In the palm of his hand, he could hold up a real and true cave-heaven world that operated according to his will!

Qi Yun lowered his gaze, looking at the world of light he had personally opened up from a single speck of dust.

The facade and titles that originated from the Buddhist Sect and borrowed from the Outer Dao had long been washed away and transformed by the scouring of the [River of Heaven and Earth Years] and the choices of his own Daoist Intent and beliefs.

At this moment, he held a cave-heaven in his palm and contained the Purple Extreme within his body. He alone was supreme.

He raised his head and looked toward the real great sun that was slowly sinking below the horizon at the edge of the West Sea. His voice was calm and clear as he declared his own title in this Heaven and Earth, on this unique path of a True Monarch that belonged only to him:

"From this day forward, I shall be known as—"

"[Great Sun Purple Extreme True Monarch]."

...

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