Believe it or not—I believe it myself. Lin Moyu, rarely stubborn, had run this deduction countless times, replaying and probing for flaws, before finally arriving at this answer. With better than ninety-percent confidence, he was sure he wasn't wrong.
To that end, Lin had Little Tree and Chaoszi list all the top experts from back then, even ranking them by their own understanding. Little Tree placed himself around thirtieth and Chaoszi beyond fiftieth; Chaoszi put himself around fortieth and Little Tree at twenty-fifth. Their lists differed a bit but not by much—and they shared the same top three.
They named the strongest of that era as the Huntian Desolation Dragon—a divine dragon embodying the power of the Ancient Wilds and Chaos, essentially the progenitor of all later dragons, the one and only ancestor. He had virtually no weaknesses; whether defense, offense, or body, he was indisputably number one. Only his soul was a touch weaker—relative to his body—but even so it surpassed the second-ranked Skyscreen Beast.
The Skyscreen Beast came second by both their reckoning. Even before they ranked him, Lin Moyu knew it was formidable; he just hadn't expected how formidable. It didn't merely excel at spatial power—it mastered it, toying with space at will. Anything it swallowed never came back out alive. Like Chaoszi, it possessed an inner world; rumor had it the number of strong beings nurtured in that world far exceeded those of Chaoszi's.
Third was the Eternal Desolation Ox, a monster that had pushed defense to the absolute limit. Its offense wasn't astonishing, but its defense was outrageous. He had once exchanged blows with the Huntian Desolation Dragon, standing still while the dragon struck for a long time, and remained unscathed. The Skyscreen Beast had once swallowed him too, only to spit him out later—still uninjured. If not for his lack of offense, his ranking could have been even higher. From their descriptions, he resembled the later Chaos Desolation Ox and was likely its forebear.
When Little Tree and Chaoszi recovered their memories, they found their era already over—the Dao ruled all. The powerhouses of that time had fallen almost to a one. After the Skyscreen Beast obtained that strange flower, its soul left the body and became the Dao. It may well have killed the Huntian Desolation Dragon. As for the Eternal Desolation Ox—defense unmatched or not—every being has a weak point; the question is whether you can find it. In Lin's view, with enough patience even the Eternal Desolation Ox could be slain.
Little Tree asked, "Master, if things are truly as you deduce, what should we do next?"
Lin Moyu said, "It definitely has constraints and can't touch its true body. But if it wants to go further, it must have a body. The timing wasn't right before; now something from the deepest Ancient Wilds is arriving, and Chaos and the Ancient Wilds are about to fall into turmoil again—this is its chance. So this time it likely won't pass it up. It should be waiting for the moment of maximum chaos to make a move. As for the Calamity Supreme, I expect he's also waiting for that moment."
In the array's core, Lin had deliberately remarked that the Calamity Supreme was "so skilled and daring." The Calamity Supreme hadn't caught the subtext at the time, but from his reaction Lin roughly inferred that he already knew the Space God-Mountain was the Dao's true body. In that case, setting an array here and continuously drawing on the Dao's true-body power—if that isn't daring, what is?
Little Tree clicked his tongue. "Isn't the Calamity Supreme courting death doing that?"
Lin smiled. "How could he be courting death? He must have some assurance. He understands the Dao's current state well enough that it can't do anything to him—that's why he dares. In depth of scheming, of all those I've met, the Calamity Supreme is first. Those primeval beings back then were strong, yes, but their city-craft lagged far behind. He surely has backhands no one knows about. He must have gained something in the deepest Ancient Wilds that gave him true confidence. His whole layout looks uncertain—but he's already calculated everything. We—and the Dao—are both within his plans, turned into his tools."
Lin's eyes gleamed faintly. At last he'd strung everything together, clear as day. He was a chess piece—but this piece was beginning to view the whole board, and had glimpsed the player. The counterkill wasn't far.
Chaoszi asked, "Then that thing coming from the deepest Ancient Wilds—do you plan to fight for it?"
Lin smiled; the light in his eyes grew brighter, brimming with confidence. "My path is different from theirs. Whatever that thing is, if they want to fight, let them—best if they fight to the death. I won't borrow outside power; I'll turn inward and gather might within myself—that's the only way to truly break through. Otherwise, even if you surpass this world and become the strongest, so what? In the end you still can't escape the fate of perishing with heaven.
"After learning there are Almighty beings and a Forbidden Zone of Life—and after meeting the System there—my thinking changed. Before, my goal was to surpass the Dao. Now, surpassing the Dao isn't much. I want to surpass the former Almighties; I want to roam the Forbidden Zone. That's my rising target."
Lin had ambitions for his future and a path already imagined—now he just needed timing. In his storage space, nine world-domains were growing; the five strongest were nearly perfect, and the others were quickly catching up. Sixteen perfected Silverlight Rabbits were working full tilt to cultivate domains for him. In the former Sky-Void, several domain seeds had begun evolving into domain embryos and would soon grow into true domains. Everything was proceeding in good order. What he needed was time.
The thing from the deepest Ancient Wilds had yet to truly surface. Its impact on the Ancient Wilds was already large; on Chaos it had only begun. At the current pace, there was still plenty of time.
After a little thought, Lin decided: head to the Ancient Wilds. He didn't plan to go to the Upper Domain; he wouldn't refine the last array. Once he did, the initiative might shift. If the Calamity Supreme had left hidden hands and triggered the arrays early, Lin would be put on the back foot. He needed strength. Only with sufficient personal power could he handle changing variables.
He returned from the Lower Domain's space corridor to the Central Alliance headquarters, then set off for the Upper Domain. There were several routes to the Ancient Wilds: besides the four poles, you could also enter from the Upper Domain. He would go via the Upper Domain, not to refine the final array, but simply to pass through.
The four poles were tense; the Upper Domain was comparatively calm. Lin's status as a Central Alliance Grand Elder gave him many conveniences—he had privileges like traveling to the Upper or Lower Domains at will without needing anyone's permission. Unlike the barrier between Lower and Central, there was no barrier between Upper and Central. In a sense, the two could be seen as one whole, merely distinguished by different Dao attributes—which was why relations between them had always been good, with plenty of back-and-forth.
Upon entering the Upper Domain and leaving the space corridor, Lin quickly found a nearby teleportation array—and then activated the Hidden Spirit Pearl to vanish completely. That way, no one could track his movements. For some reason, ever since deducing that the Calamity Supreme had deeper plans, Lin had felt watched—especially in the Central Domain. Several times when he teleported back to headquarters, Mutianze was already waiting. It made him uncomfortable. So whenever he could avoid teleporters, he chose to burden Xiaopeng instead. Xiaopeng was happy to oblige; with his bloodline 99% awakened—just a hair left—his speed was at least as fast as teleportation, if not faster.
Lin felt the aura of the Upper Domain. Compared to the Central Domain, its Dao power was purer and stronger. With decent talent, one could soar straight up here, rising through realms without bottlenecks; the pure, potent Dao would actively pave the way for you. Cultivation in the Upper Domain was rapid—far faster than elsewhere. That in turn caused a problem: Upper-Domain cultivators generally had under-tempered Dao-hearts; at equal realm, their combat power was weak. Compared with Lower-Domain cultivators, it was normal for three Upper-Domain peers to lose to one from the Lower Domain. Thus, while the Upper Domain had many high-realm cultivators, its overall fighting strength wasn't much higher than other regions. Its Dao was too pure—so pure that even Lin felt a bit out of place. "When water is too clear, no fish can live." A Dao that's too pure can't raise the kind of big fish that leap the Dragon Gate.
The Upper Domain was much larger than the Central. It took Xiaopeng half a year to reach its edge. Beyond lay the Scars of Desolation, like elsewhere; crossing them would put him in the Ancient Wilds. Next came a long journey.
"Little Tree, it's your show," Lin said.
Little Tree was already prepared. The void rippled; countless roots unfurled in the air. "Rest easy, Master—leave it to me."
Lin nodded and took out the Ferry-Calamity Boat, took Xiaopeng aboard, and handed Little Tree the helm. Within the Scars they'd need spacetime rifts to travel; Xiaopeng's speed would be constrained there, and the Scars weren't safe right now. The boat was better.
Little Tree piloted the Ferry-Calamity Boat into the Scars, hunting rifts. He'd recovered a lot and was far more efficient at finding them than before. Some rifts weren't peaceful—there were little insects—but they couldn't affect the boat, much less Little Tree's command of spacetime. The boat threaded rift after rift toward the Ancient Wilds. With the Hidden Spirit Pearl, no one noticed them along the way.
Under the influence of that "thing," many Ancient-Wilds creatures were charging into the Scars, clashing with the natives there. The Scars had grown very unsettled, with battles flaring constantly. Lin saw many fights: these mindless beings went all-out from the first blow. In their concept, there was no such thing as "holding back." The Scars were full of shattered void; broken space mended quickly under world-rules, but sometimes the destruction was too great and repeated, and repairs took time. Many rifts were damaged, but just as many were newly born.
Lin watched bugs fly out of rifts—once they left, they quickly died. Weak yet dangerous. He recalled when he first entered Chaos, everything was a secret. Now he'd pried into most of them; there were fewer and fewer mysteries. Looking back, he realized he had, unknowingly, already reached a very high level. He could now speak as an equal with Supremes; to top Perfection experts, he didn't have to give face at all. Status sometimes has little to do with realm; strength is the constant.
Another battle flared ahead—a three-way mêlée: a cultivator from the Upper Domain, several creatures from the Ancient Wilds, and a few natives of the Scars. All were only at Great Chaos Realm. For a scuffle that childish, Lin didn't spare a glance and slipped into a nearby rift.
Three years later, the Ferry-Calamity Boat sailed out of the Scars and into the Ancient Wilds proper. Rules completely different from Chaos washed over him; Lin could feel the distinction clearly. He put the boat away and let Xiaopeng take over again. In these three years Xiaopeng's bloodline had awakened a bit more—just a thin veil remained.
The Ancient Wilds were vast—much larger than Chaos. Even at Xiaopeng's current speed, it would take over a hundred years to reach the depths. Lin wasn't in a hurry. As they traveled, he carefully sensed the changes here. He didn't know where that thing was now, but its impact on the Ancient Wilds was already profound. Compared to before, the Dao here had grown restless. That thing influenced not only souls but the Dao itself. Even those with firm Dao-hearts would, if the Dao they cultivated was affected, be subtly changed over time. The scariest part was how few could perceive the shift—perhaps only Supremes and pre-Supremes, those who stood atop the Dao with unshakeable hearts, might resist—might. The influence still existed, and as the thing kept pressing, even they would be hard-pressed to avoid it in the end.
After a careful read, Lin thought: perhaps the only ones truly unaffected are them and me. "Them" meant the Dao and the Calamity Supreme; as for Lin himself, the presence of Primal Dawn Qi protected him.
Wars raged in the Ancient Wilds too. Beings had become violently aggressive, constantly clashing. If not for the Hidden Spirit Pearl, Lin reckoned he'd be dragged into countless meaningless fights along the way.
Silently, Xiaopeng streaked toward the deep places. Ten years blinked by under the Pearl's veil; his whole body shone gold, long cries rolling—but thankfully muffled by the Pearl or they'd have shaken the Wilds. Xiaopeng's speed kept climbing—no fastest, only faster, seemingly without end. Fully awakened Xiaopeng was worlds apart from 99%—ten times faster at least. The Golden-Winged Roc bloodline had finally fully recovered.
"Good," Lin murmured—when suddenly he felt a vast will sweep over from afar.
The Dao had descended.