From the torn remnants of the storm, a figure finally emerged.
Leigong stepped forward from the dispersing thunderclouds, no longer concealed by lightning or law. He appeared as a tall, broad-shouldered man, his features weathered and severe, the lines of his face carved by countless years of execution and obedience. Arcs of lightning crawled constantly across his skin, snapping and fading in disciplined paths rather than wild discharge.
In his right hand, he carried a colossal iron hammer, its surface etched with storm glyphs so ancient they predated most modern formations. Each rune pulsed faintly, resonating with Heaven's authority.
Yet none of that held the eye.
What drew every gaze were the chains.
Thick, radiant heavenly chains were embedded directly into Leigong's back, their links half-sunk into flesh and law alike. They extended upward, disappearing into the open sky where the storm had once raged. Each chain pulsed with a slow, inexorable rhythm, carrying the unmistakable imprint of command rather than restraint alone.
They did not bind him in place.
They bound his choices.
Leigong's steps were heavy as he descended through the air, as though gravity itself had increased around him. His hammer hung lower than before, and the thunderlight in his eyes had dimmed, no longer fierce, but cautious.
Alter regarded him calmly.
Arms folded across his chest, he took in the Duke of Thunder without hostility, curiosity flickering briefly in his golden gaze. There was no recognition in his expression—only assessment.
"Huh," Alter said at last, tone light. "So this is what Heaven sends to swing lightning around."
Leigong's grip tightened around his hammer.
He swallowed, then straightened with visible effort and spoke, forcing composure into his voice.
"I am Leigong," he said, each word deliberate. "Duke of Thunder. Executor of Heavenly Tribulations. Bound servant of the Ascension Laws."
He hesitated, then added, more quietly, "And you… are not recorded in any heavenly registry."
Alter snorted softly.
"Yeah, you mentioned that before. Do you have anything else you can say?"
Leigong's eyes flicked upward involuntarily as the chains tugged faintly at his back, reacting to the presence before him. The sensation sent a shiver through his frame.
Alter tilted his head, finally noticing the bindings more closely. His gaze followed the glowing links upward into the sky, then back to Leigong.
"So those are what keep you swinging the hammer," he said. "Rough setup."
Leigong exhaled slowly. "They are Heaven's mandate."
"How long?" Alter asked casually.
Leigong hesitated, then answered, voice tight. "Thirteen thousand more years."
Alter winced. "Damn. That's excessive."
There was no mockery in it—only blunt commentary.
"No wonder you look exhausted," Alter continued. "That kind of leash would grind anyone down."
Leigong said nothing, but the tension in his shoulders confirmed the truth of it.
Alter's gaze sharpened then, his casual demeanor shifting just enough to signal intent.
"So," he said, "what's your call here? So… should we fight, or will you stop?"
Leigong stiffened as if struck.
His hammer trembled, lightning sputtering uncertainly along its head. He looked at Alter again—not with anger, not with defiance, but with dawning clarity.
This presence was not something he could oppose.
Not because Alter was stronger.
But because Alter stood outside the authority that defined Leigong's existence.
Leigong bowed his head.
"I will stop," he said quickly.
Alter smiled, satisfied.
"Good choice."
Alter's smile sharpened. "Because if you'd said otherwise…"
He lifted one leg, then snapped it down with casual force.
CRAAAAACK!
A line of light split the air itself, a seam torn through the sky. The world howled as reality bent, a fractured rift stretching downward like a scar.
Then Alter clenched his fist and punched.
BOOOOOOM!
Holes ripped open in space, each one yawning into a churning, endless void. Fragments of heaven's fabric peeled away, blackness staring back at creation. The disciples screamed. Even the Four Saint Dragons staggered, their expressions pale.
"By the heavens…" Meiyun whispered. "He isn't even fighting the god of thunder yet — he's tearing the world apart just to warn him."
Leigong flinched violently, hammer shaking in his grip. "Enough! I yield!" His voice cracked with genuine fear. "If we fought… even the entire Heavenly Realm and Demon Realm combined wouldn't match you."
Alter grinned and dropped his hand, the voids sealing shut with a snap as though reality itself hurried to obey. "That's what I thought."
He stretched, rolling his shoulders as though preparing to lie back down. "Then I'm done here. I'll go back to resting."
Leigong nodded stiffly. "…Understood."
"Hold up," Alter said suddenly.
Leigong froze mid-motion, every chain along his back tightening in reflex.
"…Yes?" he asked carefully.
Alter's eyes gleamed with mild interest. "Leave some of that golden lightning behind."
Leigong blinked, startled.
After a brief hesitation, he raised his hammer. The motion was precise, restrained. He swung once, and a controlled cascade of golden lightning poured downward—not destructive now, but condensed, refined.
Alter extended his hand.
Reality bent.
The lightning curled inward, folding upon itself again and again until it condensed into a radiant bloom—a Lightning Lotus, perfectly formed, its petals woven from execution-grade tribulation energy stabilized into treasure form.
Alter nodded approvingly.
"Nice."
With a flick of his wrist, he sent it into Haotian's spatial ring.
"That'll help him later."
He waved his hand dismissively. "Alright. You can go."
Leigong bowed, deeper this time, shame and relief written plainly across his chained features. Without another word, his form dissolved into residual thunderlight, dispersing harmlessly as the sky cleared fully.
Calm returned to the heavens.
Alter turned, cracking his neck, and finally looked down toward the Moon Lotus Sect.
Every disciple stood frozen.
The Four Saint Dragons stared upward, expressions caught between disbelief and resignation.
In the blink of an eye, Alter was standing among them.
"Yo," he said cheerfully, clapping Yangshen on the shoulder. "Been a while."
Yangshen jolted—and was promptly crushed into a bone-cracking embrace.
"Ugh—Alter!"
Alter laughed and released him only to grab Jinhai next. "You still look like a walking boulder. That's impressive commitment."
Before anyone could react, he leaned his head on Yuying's shoulder like a sulking child, then barked at Meiyun:"You, go ahead and scold me, but don't overdo it, alright?"
The entire sect nearly fell over.
The Four Saint Dragons—ancestors revered across realms—stood stiff, red-faced, and utterly powerless against his familiarity.
Yangshen finally roared, "ALTER, what in Heaven's name are you doing?!"
Gasps rippled outward.
The disciples' mouths hung open.
"Th-this is the War God?" disciples whispered. "So childish…"
Nearby, Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue exchanged glances. They had known this truth already—that Alter was the soul within Haotian, the War God of ages past. Yet seeing him now, shameless and irreverent, was still disorienting.
Meiyun pinched the bridge of her nose. "Behave," she said flatly.
"You're supposed to be dignified! You terrify gods, and yet you act like this?"
Alter pouted dramatically, but then his tone shifted. He turned, eyes gleaming with a deeper weight."Of course I had to come out. If I hadn't, this little one would've been gone for sure." He glanced inward — toward Haotian's resting consciousness — and his grin softened.
Yangshen cleared his throat, stepping forward. "Alter… what truly happened out there?"
Alter smirked. "What happened? I saved the brat, that's what. And if Leigong hadn't backed down…"
He suddenly stomped the air.
CRAAAAAACK!
A line of blinding light split reality, the sky above them fracturing like glass.
Gasps erupted through the sect.
Then Alter casually drew back his fist and struck outward.
BOOOOM!
Holes opened in space itself, voids yawning wide, swallowing fragments of the horizon. Darkness peered back from the rifts before sealing shut.
Disciples fell to their knees, some clutching their chests, others whispering in awe."He… he shattered reality itself…"
Even the Four Saint Dragons were pale. Yangshen's lips tightened. "With a kick… and a punch… he opened the void itself."
Alter dusted his hands off, as if it were nothing. "See? I was ready to fight if I had to. But thankfully, Leigong knows better."
The courtyard fell silent, no one daring to speak. The image was seared into their hearts: childish or not, Alter's power was absolute.
The courtyard was dead silent after the rifts of void sealed.No one dared move.
Hundreds of disciples stared wide-eyed at Alter, their lips trembling."Th… that was reality itself breaking…" one whispered."Even Sovereigns can't just punch open the void like that…"
Another disciple dropped to her knees, clutching her sword. "Senior Brother Haotian… or… Alter… what… what are you really?"
The question rippled through the crowd.Every disciple thought the same thing but none had dared voice it. Until now.
Alter just shrugged, hands behind his head, grinning like a boy caught stealing buns."I told you already. I'm Alter. That's it."
Yuying's eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. "Stop playing around. They have a right to know what kind of being protects them."
Alter tilted his head, then sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine." He looked over the sea of pale, trembling faces."You all love your Senior Brother Haotian, right? Good, because he's still right here. I'm not replacing him. I'm just… renting space in his soul."
Gasps erupted."In his soul?!""Two beings… in one body?"
Yangshen folded his arms, his expression heavy. "He's not lying. This is the truth. The boy you follow is Haotian — but within him slumbers Alter, the War God. A soul who once shook the heavens."
The whispers turned frantic."War God…? From the old records?""Didn't they say he fought gods and demons alone?""That means… Senior Brother carries that soul inside him?"
Shuyue bit her lip, heart pounding as she heard her sect sisters whisper her Senior Brother's name with awe and fear.
Alter chuckled. "Relax. I'm not here to order you around or steal your loyalties. You follow Haotian. That's enough. Me? I'm just here to make sure the brat doesn't die before his time."
One of the younger disciples blurted out, trembling: "B-but… if you're really the War God, why do you act… so… childish?"
The courtyard froze.
Everyone turned to look at her in horror, as though she had stepped over an unthinkable line.
But Alter's grin only widened. He bent down slightly, his golden eyes twinkling."Because that's who I really am. I already lived as the war god. Carried the weight of empires, slaughtered demons, shattered heaven's chains. I don't need to act like that anymore. Now I get to laugh, pout, and tease. And if anyone's dumb enough to think that means I'm weak…"
His grin sharpened. A crackle of void shimmered behind his fist.
"…well, they saw what I can do with a kick and a punch."
The younger disciple swallowed hard, then fell to her knees and bowed low. "Forgive me, Senior Brother Alter!"
Alter blinked, then laughed, waving her off. "Nah, don't worry about it. Questions are good."
Yangshen exhaled slowly, his voice carrying the final word. "You heard him. Remember this well: Haotian leads you. Alter exists within him. Do not confuse the two — but never forget that the War God now shields this sect."
The disciples pressed their heads to the ground, their cries rising together:"Yes, Ancestors! Yes, Senior Brother Haotian!"
Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue stood among them, silent — but their eyes burned. For they knew better than anyone: Haotian was still himself. Yet the shadow of Alter would always be with him.
And the sect's reverence, awe, and fear had just doubled.
The sect was still reeling, whispers scattering like leaves in a storm. Alter stood in the courtyard, golden eyes bright, grinning as though nothing weighed on him.
Then his expression softened. He exhaled, gaze flicking briefly to the sky."…but don't get too used to me walking around like this."
Yangshen's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Alter scratched the back of his head. "Simple. I've burned through more time than I should've. Originally, I wasn't supposed to interfere at all. That tribulation was his burden. But—" he smirked, jerking a thumb toward his chest, "—this brat was about to get cooked, so I had to step in."
The disciples looked at each other in stunned silence.
Meiyun's brow furrowed. "And the price?"
Alter shrugged. "The price is… I'll have to sleep again. For a long while. My time is limited whenever I come out like this."
The weight of his words pressed down on the courtyard. Even the most talkative disciples were silent now.
Yuying's voice, usually sharp, was quiet. "…so you're telling us this may be the last time we see you for years."
Alter grinned, though it carried a rare sadness. "Maybe. Maybe not. Depends how much trouble he gets into. But listen well." He jabbed a finger at the sisters — Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue — each of them stiffening at his sudden focus.
"You three. He better cherish you. If I wake up again and find out he hasn't, I'll kick his butt myself."
A ripple of laughter broke from the ancestors despite the tension, even Yangshen snorted. The disciples blinked in disbelief — the War God threatening to spank Haotian like an unruly junior?
Haotian's body, with Alter inside, folded his arms and pouted. "Don't look at me like that. I mean it."
The sisters blushed crimson, but their eyes softened. They understood what he meant.
Yangshen sighed, shaking his head. "Still childish even now… but… Alter, we understand."
Alter's grin returned in full force. "Good. Then it's settled."
The disciples, ancestors, and sisters alike were left with a truth both comforting and sobering:The War God had saved them, shielded them, even laughed with them — but now he would sleep again.
And all that remained… was Haotian.
Alter lifted his hand, and with a ripple of space the disciples, elders, and even the Four Saints found themselves pressed gently down to the ground. Their knees buckled under an unseen weight as if heaven itself demanded they stay seated.
He exhaled, his grin thinning to something grim. "Listen closely. Prepare at least two hundred triple recovery pills and meridian nourishing pills—crush them, draw the essence, and keep it ready."
Then his gaze turned sharply to Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue. His voice was steady, but beneath it was urgency."You three. Cast space and time freeze on this little one—on Haotian. If you don't, he'll bleed to death before the pills can reach him. You'll have about twenty seconds."
Their hearts clenched at the way he said it.
Then Alter began to count down. "Twenty… nineteen…"
The courtyard exploded into chaos. Disciples sprinted to the vaults for pills. Elders screamed out with orders. The Four Saints themselves moved, their expressions tight.
"…three… two…"
Yinxue's voice trembled. "We're ready!"
"…one."
Silence.
Alter's golden eyes closed, and in that instant his presence vanished. Then—
BOOOOOOM!
Haotian's body erupted into blood, skin tearing, flesh rupturing, bones cracking like dry twigs. It was just like the memory from years ago—when he had nearly killed himself cultivating. Blood sprayed across the courtyard, spattering disciples, elders, even the ancestors. Screams rang out in horror.
But the three sisters had been prepared.
With a cry, Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue struck their palms into the air.
"Space-Time Prison—Triple Lock!"
Three layers of frozen space folded into each other, wrapping Haotian in a shimmering lattice. Time slowed to an impossible crawl around his ruined body.
"NOW!" Yangshen roared.
The elders crushed dozens of pills at once, their essence glowing in thick streams of light. With trembling hands, the Saints guided the essence into Haotian's slack mouth. The medicine flooded through his torn meridians, spilling into his shattered core.
Minutes crawled by like hours. Blood still poured from his wounds, but slowly— agonizingly slowly—his flesh began to knit.
"His breathing… it's stabilizing," Meiyun whispered, sweat pouring down her brow.
Thirty minutes passed. The sect held its breath.
At last, Yangshen straightened, his eyes softening. "He's no longer in danger. Release the prison."
Yinxue and Ziyue immediately drew back their hands, the frozen layers peeling away. But Shuyue's trembling hands held firm."No! If I stop, what if he dies?!"
Her eyes brimmed with tears as her qi flared desperately to hold the prison intact.
Yinxue placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Shuyue. Look—his chest is rising. His breathing is steady."
Ziyue leaned in, her voice low, reassuring. "He will be fine. The ancestors themselves are confident. Trust them… trust him."
Shuyue's lips quivered, but finally, reluctantly, she released her hold. The last layer of the prison dissolved.
Haotian lay limp, pale as death, but his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm.
Yangshen nodded. "Bring him inside. He must rest."
The sect dispersed in solemn silence. Disciples were dismissed to rest. Elders carried Haotian carefully into his chambers, laying him on his bed.
Days passed.
Days turned into weeks.
Two moons waned and waxed.
The Moon Lotus Sect lived in tense quiet, training and cultivating with heavy hearts. At night, the three sisters often sat by his bedside, whispering his name, praying he would stir.
Then, at last—
His fingers twitched.
His eyelids fluttered.
A long, shuddering breath escaped his lips as golden eyes cracked open, dazed but alive.
A faint glow shimmered in the chambers as Haotian's eyelids fluttered. His golden eyes, weary yet sharp, cracked open against the weight of weeks of silence. His breath was ragged at first, then steady, filling the room like a long-awaited song.
For a heartbeat, the chamber remained still. Then a gasp broke the silence.
"Haotian…!"
Shuyue's voice quivered, her body trembling as tears welled in her eyes. She was the first to move, stumbling forward, clutching his hand with both of hers. Her tears spilled freely, dripping onto his knuckles. "You're awake… you're finally awake…"
Ziyue was already rising to her feet, her normally composed demeanor shattering. She dropped to her knees beside the bed, pressing her forehead gently to his arm. "You fool… do you have any idea how long we've waited? Two months! Two months fearing you'd never open your eyes again."
Yinxue stood frozen for only a moment longer, her composure faltering as her chest rose sharply. She approached quietly, yet her hand trembled when it brushed back his damp hair. "Haotian… you nearly scared the entire sect to death. Do you realize… what you put us through?" Her voice cracked at the last word, betraying the weight she carried.
Haotian blinked slowly, as though surfacing from the depths of a long dream. His voice was hoarse but warm. "...You stayed by me."
Shuyue nodded rapidly, still holding his hand tightly against her cheek. "We never left. Not once."
Haotian's golden eyes softened, his gaze drifting to each of them in turn — Shuyue's tear-streaked face, Ziyue's trembling grip, Yinxue's misted eyes. With what little strength he had, he raised his other hand, brushing it weakly against Yinxue's cheek, then Ziyue's shoulder, then finally resting against Shuyue's hair.
"…thank you."
The words were simple, but they carried the weight of his heart.
The sisters collapsed against him then, unable to hold back any longer. They buried their faces against his chest and arms, sobbing quietly, laughter breaking through their tears.
For the first time in two months, the chambers of the Moon Lotus Sect were filled with joy instead of dread.
And Haotian, weak but alive, lay at the center of it — smiling faintly, as if the sight of their tears was the greatest treasure he could ever awaken to.