Twilight painted the mountains crimson when Haotian called the sect into the lotus hall. The disciples shuffled in with easy chatter, some still buzzing from the Saint Dao training, others already joking about sore legs and who had fainted first. But when they saw the mountain of treasures spill out of Haotian's spatial rings — ores, beast cores, runic scrolls, rare crystals — their voices trailed into stunned silence.
Haotian leaned casually on his spear, smiling as if he hadn't just dumped the wealth of nations onto the floor. "Don't stare too hard. It's not for decoration. This is all going to the Sea Bridge."
Murmurs broke out at once.
"The Sea Bridge? The seal?"
"Senior Brother, that's… that's basically suicide, isn't it?"
"Ugh, of course he's planning something insane again."
Haotian chuckled, shaking his head. "Relax. I'm not running off to die. I'm going to build something that'll stop the demons even when the seal fails. A killing array strong enough to bleed the abyss dry before it touches our lands."
That silenced them for a moment — then came the protests.
"But Senior Brother, you just finished wringing us out for seven days!"
"Yeah! We finally feel like we're standing straight again, and you're already running off?"
"Don't tell me you're leaving us here to stare at mountains all day while you go play hero!"
Laughter rippled through the hall despite the protests. The three sisters stood off to the side, their gazes sharper, quieter — but even they couldn't hide small smiles at the disciples' bickering.
Haotian lifted a brow, smirking. "Play hero? Since when has your Senior Brother ever done anything so boring?"
That earned groans and giggles both.
One bolder disciple cupped her hands around her mouth and called, "Then when you come back, you better bring some demons' heads as proof!"
"Yeah!" another chimed in. "And maybe a few treasures too!"
Haotian laughed outright, waving them down. "Treasure-greedy brats. Fine. I'll bring back something shiny if I see it. But your job is to stay here and keep blooming. When I return, I want to see a sect so bright the abyss itself has to wear shades just to look at you."
That sent the hall into laughter again, light and warm, some disciples rolling their eyes, others clutching their stomachs as they laughed too hard.
Haotian's grin widened, but his eyes burned steady. The decision was made. The Sea Bridge awaited.
The laughter in the lotus hall lingered even after Haotian finished speaking. The disciples tried to keep the mood light, but the weight of his words hung in their hearts.
Shuyue crossed her arms, tilting her head. "So you're really going, huh? No hesitation?"
Haotian grinned. "Would you believe me if I said I hesitated for three breaths before deciding?"
Ziyue rolled her eyes. "Three breaths. Generous."
A ripple of giggles ran through the hall. One younger disciple called out, "Senior Brother, can't you at least wait until tomorrow? We just got used to seeing your face again!"
Haotian leaned on his spear, smirking. "My face isn't going anywhere. It's far too handsome to get lost."
Groans, laughter, and playful complaints echoed from the women. But beneath the joking, their eyes softened.
He looked around at them all — sisters, disciples, his sect. For a moment, the warmth in his gaze dimmed into something sharper, steadier. "I'll return. That much, you don't have to doubt. So train hard while I'm gone, or else when I come back I'll make the bathhouse twice as hard."
"Twice!?" someone yelped.
Another groaned loudly. "Senior Brother, you're cruel!"
More laughter broke out.
Haotian's smile widened. Then, without ceremony, he tapped the butt of his spear against the ground. Space warped around him, golden ripples spreading outward like rings on water. The hall grew silent as reality itself bent to his will.
"See you soon," he said casually, as if announcing a stroll instead of stepping into danger.
In the next instant, he vanished. The ripples collapsed, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air.
The disciples stared at the empty spot where he had stood. Then one snorted. "Only our Senior Brother would make going to face demons look like stepping out to buy tea."
Laughter erupted again, bright and unshaken.
High above, the clouds parted, as though even the heavens acknowledged that the balance of the world had shifted — because he had moved.
A single ripple tore through the void.
From silence, Haotian stepped out onto stone that trembled with the weight of centuries. His golden eyes scanned the endless expanse before him.
The Sea Bridge Seal stretched across a chasm that defied sight. It was no bridge of stone or steel but a colossal span of runic pillars rising from the abyss itself, glowing faintly with ancient light. Below, black fog roiled, whispers of demonic howls rising from cracks deep in the void. The seal's once-radiant glyphs flickered, some dim, others cracked, bleeding faint strands of abyssal qi into the air.
Even the air here tasted sour, heavy, on the edge of collapse.
Haotian exhaled slowly, his smile faint but steady. "So it's this bad already."
He lifted his hand. Dozens of spatial rings glimmered around him before shattering open. Treasures poured forth, mountains of ore, spirit stones, beast cores, scrolls, and crystalline fragments glowing with abyssal resistance. All stolen from traitors, all now serving a single purpose.
The stone beneath his feet hummed as he spread his qi, golden arcs racing across the bridge like veins of light. Formation lines flared into existence as if the earth itself remembered being cut by his will.
"Let's begin."
He knelt, his spear hovering beside him, and began inscribing the Grand Killing Array. Every motion of his finger carved runes into reality itself. A thousand sigils bloomed across the stone, each pulsing with killing intent. Ores melted into liquid light, flowing into the grooves. Beast cores shattered, their essence siphoned into nodes. Fire, frost, lightning, shadow — every element bent into the design.
Hours passed, the sky itself bending under the weight of his work.
When the first ring was complete, it pulsed outward with a sound like a war drum. Golden light flared, projecting a barrier across the chasm. Abyssal fog recoiled, shrieking as it touched the edge.
Haotian rose, sweat glistening faintly along his brow, though his smile never dimmed.
"One layer down. Many more to go."
The ground trembled. From the abyss, a clawed hand of shadow slammed against the failing seal, its roar shaking the chasm walls.
Haotian's eyes narrowed, his spear snapping into his palm. The runes he had laid flared, slashing beams of light that severed the hand before it could breach the surface.
The abyss screamed.
Haotian exhaled, steady and calm. "Not yet. Not today."
He turned back to his work, golden light spilling across the bridge as the second layer of the killing array began to take form.
Far behind him, the broken seal pulsed weakly. Ahead of him, treasures continued to dissolve into the growing web of runes.
And at the heart of it all, Haotian smiled faintly to himself.
"When the seal breaks, I'll be waiting."
Three weeks passed at the Sea Bridge, the abyss roaring faintly below, the ancient seal trembling with every pulse.
Upon its surface, Haotian worked without pause. Day after day, his spear and hand carved into stone, air, and space itself. Mountains of treasures — ores, beast cores, and runic scrolls seized from traitorous sects — melted into glowing rivers of energy. Lines wove into circles, circles into lattices, lattices into a vast and intricate net stretching across the entire bridge.
By the twenty-first day, the runes were complete.
The Grand Killing Array sprawled across the Sea Bridge like a sleeping giant — dormant, but immense. Thousands of interlocking nodes rested in silence. Glyphs glowed faintly, not alive, but waiting. From afar, it seemed like a vast lotus of golden lines etched into the bones of the world, its petals closed, holding its breath.
Haotian stood at its heart, chest rising and falling slowly. Sweat still clung to his skin, but his golden eyes burned steady.
And yet he did not leave.
For three more days, he walked the array step by step, his gaze shifting into the unfathomable glow of the Eyes of the Universe. Every rune, every line, every socketed node was stripped bare before his sight. Where he found a crooked angle, he redrew it. Where a glyph carried imbalance, he smoothed it. Where a line pulsed unevenly, he rewove it into harmony.
The abyss roared below, testing the silence. He did not answer. His work was not to fight — not yet.
On the fourth dawn, he stood once more at the center, spear planted at his side. His gaze swept over the array — vast, silent, flawless.
A faint smile curved his lips.
"It's ready."
But he did not move to awaken it. The array remained still, dormant, its killing intent sealed. This was not the moment. To activate it prematurely would bleed its strength before the abyss tide arrived.
So he left it sleeping, a silent blade buried in stone — waiting for the day when the Sea Bridge Seal failed, and the demons poured forth.
Haotian exhaled, his shoulders easing for the first time in weeks. "When that day comes… this will answer."
And with that, he turned from the bridge, leaving the Grand Killing Array slumbering in silence.
The Sea Bridge stretched like an endless span of stone, but now its surface bore no resemblance to the eroded ruin it once was. Haotian's work had transformed it into a masterpiece of dao architecture — a weapon disguised as a seal.
From above, the formation blazed in the shape of a nine-pointed star, each arm stretching outward in perfect symmetry. At the tip of every star-point lay a smaller nexus: nine chi-gathering formations, layered together to draw endless streams of spiritual energy from heaven and earth. The air around them shimmered with raw power, as though the world itself had bent its flow toward the bridge.
Within the star's geometry, the inner layers rose like walls. Nine concentric barriers coiled one within another, each etched with divine resistance sigils. Haotian's Eyes of the Universe saw their measure clearly — every barrier could hold back the strikes of a Sovereign cultivator for days, one after the other, a fortress of sheer endurance.
Past them burned the true heart of slaughter: eighteen layers of killing arrays, each inscribed to unleash elemental destruction. Lightning, flame, frost, wind, shadow, and earth-force surged through the lines, but above them all, the light element dominated — piercing, cleansing, absolute. When awakened, the star would not merely defend — it would incinerate.
Beyond those lethal rings, the web grew trickier. Six layers of illusion-traps wove together like a spider's snare. Any demon that breached the outer lines would be caught, blinded, bound in illusions that turned every step into a maze, every breath into a prison. The array would not allow them to advance; it would hold them in place, awaiting death.
And at the very center, where all lines converged, lay Haotian's true brilliance.
Two formations overlapped, fused into one monumental sigil: the Nine Golden Dragons Formation and the Twenty-Four Cries of the Phoenix Formation. No longer bound to their original limits, he had altered them. Where once nine dragons might have answered, now ninety-nine flood dragons lay coiled in the runes, their bodies shimmering with latent fury. Where once twenty-four phoenix cries had echoed, now ninety-nine ice phoenixes slept in cold flame, their wings stretched across the seal.
Together, dragons and phoenixes slumbered beneath the surface — not symbolic, but real as summoned entities, bound by Haotian's craft. Their strength was magnified by eighty-one chi gathering nodes set at the formation's deepest anchors. If awakened, they would not simply roar against demons — they could battle an Emperor-realm cultivator head-on.
Haotian stood at the bridge's center, his golden eyes sweeping across the vast lattice. His Eyes of the Universe confirmed every line, every node, every pulse. Not a single flaw remained.
His chest rose with quiet pride, a faint smile tugging his lips.
"This," he murmured, voice soft but edged with satisfaction, "is no longer just a seal. This is judgment."
He placed his hand on the final node, feeling the dormant hum of power beneath his palm.
"The next step… is to awaken it."
The abyss below roared, as if in challenge. Haotian only chuckled, his golden gaze burning.
"Soon."
The Sea Bridge trembled beneath Haotian's feet. For weeks it had lain dormant, its lines etched, its nodes socketed, its lattice woven into silence. A sleeping colossus.
Haotian stood at its center, spear planted upright, his golden eyes narrowed. He did not hesitate.
His hands sealed, his breath deepened, and with a thunderous crack within his body — all three of his cores ignited at once.
The world howled.
Flame surged through his veins, lightning danced along his skin, shadow coiled beneath his feet. His qi erupted outward like a tidal wave, tearing clouds into ribbons. The air warped as his cultivation soared, climbing past boundaries until it blazed at the Peak of the Sovereign Realm.
The bridge groaned beneath the pressure, as if recognizing the master who would command it.
Haotian's voice carried, low and firm. "Awaken."
The 81 chi gathering formations answered first. One by one, the nodes blazed, light shooting upward like pillars into the sky. The first flared gold, then the second, then the third — until the entire bridge shone like a star-map. Spiritual energy from the heavens poured downward, rivers of raw chi sucked into the lattice, devoured without end.
The bridge shook. The abyss screamed.
Haotian spread his arms, golden arcs racing across his shoulders. "Once the chi flows… the array will live."
The veins lit. Lines carved into stone blazed, connecting the star's points, weaving into the nine concentric barriers, the eighteen killing layers, the six illusion snares. One after another, the circles came alive, humming, resonating, thrumming with a rhythm like a colossal heartbeat.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The Sea Bridge no longer looked like carved stone. It pulsed like flesh, roared like storm, gleamed like the bones of a dragon waking from slumber.
At the center, the dual sigils rumbled. The Nine Golden Dragons Formation stirred. The Twenty-Four Cries of the Phoenixes Formation keened. Altered, empowered, swollen with chi, they burst into life.
From the runes, spectral forms ripped free — ninety-nine golden flood dragons, coiling above the abyss, their scales shining like suns. Ninety-nine ice phoenixes followed, wings spreading in arcs of frozen flame, their cries cutting the sky.
The abyss below recoiled. Shadows that pressed at the seal scattered, shrieking as light and frost tore into them.
Haotian's body shook with the strain, his cores burning as they fed the endless hunger of the array. Sweat rolled down his brow, but his grin cut sharp across his face.
"Good," he whispered. "Breathe. Live. Kill."
The Grand Killing Array roared in answer.
For the first time in centuries, the Sea Bridge no longer trembled with weakness — it thundered with defiance.
Haotian exhaled, his spear steady at his side. The abyss below howled, but now it was not only a broken seal that stood against it.
It was his creation. A fortress. A weapon.
The Grand Killing Array was alive.
The Grand Killing Array throbbed with life, its runes burning bright as golden dragons coiled in the sky and ice phoenixes wheeled with piercing cries. For the first time in centuries, the Sea Bridge no longer trembled like a failing seal — it thundered with power, ready to slaughter anything that dared breach.
Haotian stood at the center, chest heaving, his spear planted firmly at his side. Satisfaction burned in his eyes. "With this, the abyss tide will break against the wall. The demons won't step one pace across."
He turned, about to leave.
Then the world shifted.
From deep within the abyss — beyond the black fog, beneath the broken seal, past even the places where mortal eyes could not reach — a roar erupted.
It was no mere cry of beasts. It was a sound that shattered the silence of the world. A roar older than mountains, heavier than storms, vast enough to shake the marrow of every living being.
The bridge groaned. The array flared in panic, its dragons coiling tighter, its phoenixes shrieking, as though they too felt dread.
Haotian froze, his eyes widening. His sovereign qi surged reflexively, but still his skin prickled, his blood chilled. His body trembled once — an instinct no cultivator could control.
"What… was that?" he whispered.
The roar echoed again, deeper, angrier. The abyss writhed. The seal strained as cracks spread farther along its surface.
Haotian clenched his fists. Even with his cultivation surging at the Peak Sovereign Realm, even with three cores burning in unison, his heart clenched with instinctive fear. The kind of fear that came not from imagination, but from truth.
Could it be…? Something down there stronger than a Sovereign?
His gaze snapped back to the Grand Killing Array — vast, radiant, alive. And yet, for the first time, it felt small. Insufficient.
"This won't do." His voice was quiet, but his tone cut like steel. "If what I felt is real… then this formation alone cannot stop it. This threat is greater than I thought."
Without hesitation, he struck his spear against the ground. Space rippled, golden arcs spiraling upward. In the next instant, he vanished.
When he reappeared, it was not on the Sea Bridge.
It was before the gates of the Zhenlong household, where the air shimmered with ancient dragon might.
The Four Saint Dragons would know. They had to.