The Zhenlong household's great hall glowed faintly in the evening light, its high pillars carved with coiling dragons and phoenixes. Incense drifted in slow spirals. The four ancestral presences lingered within, each seated in their own circle of power — Yangshen blazing with golden brilliance, Yuying serene in shimmering frost, Jinhai steady as a mountain, Meiyun flowing with endless tide.
The doors boomed open.
Haotian strode in, spear at his side, his aura still humming with the weight of the array he had birthed. His golden eyes, however, carried a gravity none of them had seen in him before.
Yangshen's gaze narrowed. "Haotian. You've returned quickly. Did you finish it?"
Haotian stopped at the center of the hall, bowing briefly before lifting his head. "The Grand Killing Array is complete. It will hold back the demon tide. But…" His jaw tightened. "Something stirred beneath the seal."
The air grew heavier.
Meiyun's brows drew together. "Stirred?"
Haotian's voice was quiet, but every word struck like thunder. "A roar. Not the kind of roar a beast makes. A presence that could shake marrow, that even my Peak Sovereign cultivation could not stand against. I felt fear — not weakness, but instinct. Whatever is trapped below the seal… it's stronger than a Sovereign."
The hall fell silent.
Even the Four Saint Dragons — beings who had seen ages rise and fall — were still.
Then Jinhai's deep voice rumbled, low and grave. "Impossible… The seal was designed to suppress the abyssal tide, not emperors. For something beyond Sovereign realm to be imprisoned there—" He broke off, fists curling.
Yuying's serene composure wavered, her frost-tinged eyes flashing. "Then this is not merely a breach. It is a disaster waiting to erupt."
Yangshen's blazing aura dimmed faintly, the first sign of unease. "The Grand Killing Array is formidable, but if this is true, then it may only delay what cannot be stopped."
A long silence stretched. Then Yuying's voice, soft but edged with urgency, cut through the hall.
"Should we… seek aid from the Central Continent?"
The words struck like a blade.
Even the Zhenlong household seemed to tremble. The central continent — land of ancient sects, divine clans, and the deepest reserves of human cultivation power. To involve them was to admit that the north and its sects could not withstand what lay below the seal.
Meiyun's eyes hardened. "Once the Central Continent learns, they will not come as saviors. They will come as lords, chains in their hands."
Yangshen's fists clenched. "But if we do nothing, the north will burn before the seal shatters fully."
All eyes turned to Haotian, the young man standing calmly at the center, his spear glinting faintly under the lantern light.
He had seen it. He had felt it.
The decision now teetered between silence, pride, and survival.
The Zhenlong household's great hall remained heavy with silence even after Yuying's words faded. None of the Saints had an answer — only grim faces, the weight of ages pressing behind their eyes. The debate could not be ended with a single breath.
Yangshen rose at last, his voice firm. "We must confer with the Azure Dragon Sky Sect. Their sect master holds the mandate of the four Saint bloodlines. If there is a path forward, it will not be found in this chamber alone."
Jinhai and Meiyun both nodded. Yuying's gaze flicked to Haotian before she spoke, voice calm but edged with frost. "Three days. We will gather again then. Haotian, return to your sect. Prepare them quietly, but say nothing of the roar you heard. Panic now would kill more than demons."
Haotian inclined his head, golden eyes steady. "Understood."
The Saints departed through a rift of light and shadow, their presences fading into the heavens. The hall fell quiet, leaving Haotian alone with his thoughts.
He sighed softly, leaning on his spear. "Three days… let's see what truth they bring back."
But before returning to the Moon Lotus Sect, his steps turned not to duty — but to family.
The inner courtyard of the Zhenlong household was quiet, the evening breeze carrying the faint scent of pine and incense. Haotian walked softly, his expression easing as he entered a modest pavilion where light spilled from an open doorway.
Inside, Lianhua sat cross-legged, her robes simple, her beauty glowing with the calm dignity of years spent cultivating alongside him. Before her, on a woven mat, their son knelt, tiny hands pressed together as he circulated his qi in stuttering breaths. A faint glow danced around the boy's chest — unsteady but undeniably there.
Lianhua looked up as Haotian entered. A small smile curved her lips. "You're back sooner than I expected."
Haotian leaned against the doorframe, his grin softening into something gentler than the disciples ever saw. "Couldn't leave without checking on my little dragon."
The boy's brow furrowed, his qi wobbling before sputtering out entirely. He let out a frustrated huff, cheeks puffing. "Father! I was so close!"
Haotian chuckled, stepping forward to kneel beside him. "You were. Better than I managed at your age. But don't forget — cultivation isn't about rushing. It's about breathing." He placed a hand over his son's small hands, steadying them with his warmth. "Feel it? Even when it stumbles, it's still there. That's your dao answering."
The boy's eyes widened, his frustration melting into determination. "I'll get it right. I'll be strong, like you!"
Haotian ruffled his hair, laughing. "Strong, sure. But you'll need your mother's patience if you want to surpass me."
Lianhua's smile deepened, quiet pride glowing in her eyes. "With the teachings left by our ancestors, he's already stepping where most children wouldn't for years. At this pace, he'll reach Foundation Realm before long."
Haotian's gaze lingered on the boy, warmth softening the storm still rolling in his heart. For a moment, the roar beneath the abyss felt distant. For a moment, he allowed himself peace.
Then he rose, pressing a hand briefly to Lianhua's shoulder. "Take care of him. I'll return after three days."
Her hand brushed his, a wordless promise in her touch.
Haotian stepped back into the night, spear in hand, his golden eyes narrowing toward the distant horizon. The Sea Bridge, the roar, the abyss — all waited.
But here, in this quiet moment, he had found his anchor.
The sky above the northern ranges was iron-gray, clouds pressing low as if holding their breath.
In the Moon Lotus Sect's great hall, the disciples sat gathered, their chatter hushed. Haotian stood at the front, his spear propped against the dais, his expression warm but steady. He had already told them of the Grand Killing Array completed at the Sea Bridge Seal — how it would slaughter the demon tide when the seal finally collapsed. Their pride had burned bright… until he spoke of the roar.
Something beneath the abyss that made even a Sovereign feel chills. Something greater than what their array could hold.
Fear had crept through the ranks of women who were never taught to bow to the abyss. They shifted uneasily now, murmuring in corners, eyes darting toward Haotian as though he alone could banish the dread.
"Senior Brother," one disciple finally spoke, her voice small but sharp with worry, "if what you say is true… then even our array will fail. What do we do?"
Haotian let the silence linger a moment, then smiled faintly. "We prepare. And we decide. You all deserve to know the choices before us."
He raised his hand, fingers marking one by one.
"First, we stay here and fight. If the demons pour out, we hold this mountain, no matter the cost. Second, we seek aid from the Central Continent — call for their Emperors to step in. Third, we scatter, split into branches, so that even if one falls the others survive."
He paused, and his eyes grew harder. "But… there is a fourth."
The women leaned forward, tension prickling through the hall.
Haotian's voice dropped, calm and steady. "We relocate. Take the Moon Lotus Sect far to the south, to the Southern Continent where yin energy is thick, and demons find little purchase. There, you could rebuild, hidden and safe."
Murmurs broke out at once.
"Relocate? Leave our home behind?"
"Wouldn't that mean abandoning the seal?"
"Senior Brother, we've lived here for generations…"
Haotian lifted a hand, silencing them gently. His golden eyes swept across their faces, not scolding, only steady.
"I'm not telling you to flee. Not yet. But I won't lie — when the seal breaks, this place will not be safe. If an Emperor realm cultivator from the Central Continent steps in, they won't come as saviors. They'll come with chains. Chains for the demons. Chains for me. Chains for all of you. They will bind this sect to their will and drag you beneath their banners. And once that happens…" He let the weight of silence finish the thought.
The disciples shivered. A few clenched fists, others bit their lips. They understood. To survive the demons only to become prisoners of another continent's ambitions — it was no survival at all.
Haotian exhaled softly, his smile returning, warm enough to soften the fear. "So we must plan. Counter-measures for demons, yes. But also for Emperors. We will not be chained."
The hall stilled, disciples nodding slowly, the fire in their eyes flickering back to life. Fear had not left them — but their Senior Brother had lit a path through it.
At that moment, thunder rolled across the horizon. The air thickened.
The Four Saint Dragons descended once more, their presences filling the skies as they returned from the Azure Dragon Sky Sect. The ground trembled as they set foot upon the mountain, their eyes grave.
Yangshen's booming voice carried into the hall. "We bring word. The sect master of the Azure Dragon Sky Sect has heard. His verdict may decide the fate of the north."
Haotian's eyes narrowed slightly, his hand brushing the shaft of his spear. "Then let's hear it."
The true debate was only beginning.
The Moon Lotus Sect had quieted after Haotian's talk. The disciples still looked uneasy, but his steady grin and blunt words — "If we stay, we fight; if we run, we run smart; but we won't be anyone's chained pets" — had lit fire under their fear.
Three days later, stormclouds rolled across the horizon. A thunderclap split the air, and four familiar figures descended onto the sect's mountain — Yangshen blazing like a small sun, Yuying trailing frost that curled like silk, Jinhai heavy as a falling boulder, and Meiyun carrying the sound of waves with every step.
They didn't stand tall on a dais like distant gods. They walked straight into the sect hall, brushing past startled disciples, and sat themselves at the long table like they owned the place.
"Damn," Jinhai muttered as he cracked his shoulders, the sound echoing like a landslide. "That was a long trip for three days. I haven't flown that much since the damn Sky Leviathan war."
Haotian snorted, leaning against his spear. "I thought you said you were built for endurance."
"Endurance, yes," Jinhai grumbled, rubbing his neck. "Sitting around listening to politics? Not so much."
Yangshen waved him off, sparks flickering off his fingers. "Anyway, we met with the Azure Dragon Sect Master. He still looks the same — older beard, fewer teeth, more attitude. But yeah, he's still that same bastard."
Yuying's frosty composure cracked into a small smile. "He actually laughed when we told him about the roar. Said, 'Figures. The abyss would cough up a bigger monster the moment Haotian gets involved.'"
The disciples in the hall blinked. Some of them looked shocked that the legendary ancestors were talking so casually. Haotian just grinned. "That sounds like him."
Meiyun crossed her arms, her voice calm but sharp. "But jokes aside, he didn't dismiss it. He agrees — something's down there, and it's worse than Sovereign. He has no ready plan. He suggested we start thinking bigger. Way bigger."
Haotian's grin faded a little, replaced with that steel edge. "Bigger how?"
Yangshen leaned forward, sparks snapping from his eyes. "Central Continent bigger. Yuying floated it, he agreed. If something Emperor-level or worse breaks free, the north won't hold. The question is — do we call them in, or do we keep this to ourselves until we're forced?"
The room went quiet. The casual tone didn't hide the weight of it — if the Central Continent stepped in, they wouldn't come as friends. They'd come with their banners, their chains, their politics.
Haotian sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "So we're stuck between a demon tide that can flatten sects and 'allies' that want to put collars on our necks. Love the options."
Yangshen chuckled. "Better than no options."
Haotian glanced at his disciples, then back at the Saints. "Yeah. But I'll tell you this much. If they think they're dragging the Moon Lotus Sect south in chains, they've got another thing coming."
The Saints grinned, the kind of grim, sharp-edged smiles only veterans wore when the game got deadly serious.
That night, the Moon Lotus Sect slept under a heavy sky. Disciples curled in their quarters, the three sisters glanced at Haotian's chamber more than once, but the door never opened for them.
Inside, Haotian sat cross-legged in silence, his spear leaning against the wall. His golden eyes dimmed, breath slowing, body still as stone. He wasn't resting. He was thinking. Every scenario, every countermeasure, every path he could take. Against demons. Against Emperors. Against the roar that had shaken his bones.
Suddenly —
A pulse.
His inner world quaked, and a golden text burned itself into the air above his dantian.
"Get in here. Now."
Haotian barely had a chance to react before his consciousness was yanked inward, spiraling into his sea of consciousness.
The world shifted.
He stood beneath an endless golden sky where ninety-nine dragons coiled and roared, their bodies weaving like rivers of molten light. They circled lazily, guarding something deeper. The air smelled faintly of incense and… something bitter.
Then a voice. Calm. Tired. Amused.
"Brat. Come sit."
Haotian turned. At the center of the vast expanse sat a translucent figure of light — serene, composed, pouring steaming cups of tea into a plain clay set. His face carried no trace of the childlike form Haotian had once seen. This was Alter — fully grown, steady, ancient.
Haotian walked forward and sat across from him. He could feel the weight of the figure's gaze, the quiet exhaustion in the way his aura flickered.
Alter sighed, lifting the teacup to his lips. After a sip, he winced. "Still can't get used to tea. Coffee's better."
Haotian blinked. "Coffee? What's that?"
Alter smirked faintly, shaking his head. "Nothing a baby should be concerned with."
Haotian scowled lightly. "You drag me into my own sea of consciousness just to insult me?"
"No." Alter's smile faded into something quieter. "To ask what you're planning. About the roar."
Haotian's breath stilled. "You already know?"
"Yes." Alter's gaze grew distant, flickers of golden flame stirring around him. "But this isn't something I can help with directly. That last tribulation stripped me down to bone. I can barely keep awake these days. Truth is, I was about to close my eyes again… when I heard that roar."
Silence stretched between them. The only sound was the whisper of dragons circling high above.
Haotian lowered his gaze. "So… no solutions."
Alter swirled the tea in his cup, watching the ripples. His shoulders sank. "Not solutions I wanted. But maybe one path. It requires me to do something I swore I wouldn't."
Haotian looked up sharply, golden eyes narrowing. "Something you swore—?"
Alter sighed, his tone suddenly serious. "Yes. And Gaia will definitely be mad if I do it."
For the first time that night, Haotian felt a flicker of hope pierce through the storm of dread. His posture straightened, his eyes sharpened.
"A solution?"
Alter set down his teacup, golden light flickering brighter across his frame. He leaned forward slightly, voice low but unshakable.
"Yes. But it will come at a price."
The dragons above roared in unison, the sound shaking the sea of consciousness like thunder.
The golden sea of consciousness trembled as Alter set his teacup down, his translucent form glowing faintly with exhaustion. His voice was calm, almost too calm, as he spoke.
"There is one way," he said. "I merge with you."
Haotian froze. "...Merge?"
Alter nodded slowly. His eyes, serene yet heavy with centuries, locked onto Haotian's. "Originally, Gaia planned it that way. You were supposed to be my vessel — a new life for me to inhabit after everything. I was meant to live your life."
Haotian's chest tightened. "But… you didn't."
"Because I was tired." Alter's tone softened, carrying weariness like the weight of a thousand wars. "I've fought demon gods, divine gods, emperors, even realms themselves. My hands… are soaked in blood. More than you can imagine. I didn't want to wake again only to keep fighting. So I let you live freely, unchained. I watched. I guided. But I stayed apart."
The golden dragons circling above stirred uneasily, their roars echoing faintly as if mirroring Haotian's pounding heart.
Alter leaned forward, his words sharp. "But if I merge my soul with yours, everything changes. Your three cores will resonate to their full capacity. Your cultivation will soar past Sovereign. You will break through… into the Immortal Realm."
The words struck like thunder.
Haotian's breath caught, his eyes widening. "Immortal… Realm…"
A gulf stretched between them — awe and temptation, but also dread.
Alter's gaze hardened. "But listen carefully. If we merge, we become one. Since my soul is stronger, yours will be pushed into dormancy. You'll still be there, but asleep, forever. I will carry your memories. Your loves. Your choices. But you, as you, will vanish."
Haotian sat in silence, the enormity of it crashing over him. He thought of Yinxue's quiet smiles, Ziyue's sharp words, Shuyue's playful eyes. Of the disciples laughing, calling him Senior Brother. Of Lianhua and his son, eyes bright with promise.
Gone.
Alter's tone softened again, but it cut deeper for it. "This is the safest, most efficient path. With me awake inside you, the abyss would fall. But you would lose yourself. Everyone you love would lose you. You would no longer be Haotian."
Silence pressed heavy. Haotian's fists clenched, trembling against his knees. His mind warred between fear, sorrow, and duty.
Finally, his head lifted. His golden eyes burned, steady as his voice.
"If my sacrifice can save them — the women who trust me, the disciples who call me Senior Brother, my son, my people — then so be it. If I must vanish, then I vanish. Better me than them."
The dragons roared as though stirred by his resolve.
Alter stared at him, blinking once — then burst out laughing. His serene composure cracked into deep, hearty laughter that echoed across the golden sea. "Hahaha! Brat! You're the same as me after all!"
Haotian blinked, frowning. "What—?"
Alter grinned, smirking over his teacup. "I said there's one way. I didn't say it was the only way."
Haotian's jaw dropped. "You—!"
Alter laughed harder, wiping a tear of light from the corner of his eye. "Ah, your face! Worth it. Worth every word. You really would've thrown yourself away without hesitation, huh? No wonder Gaia took an interest."
Haotian's glare softened into exasperation, though his heart still pounded. "So there is another way."
Alter leaned back, his form flickering faintly with fatigue, but his grin sharp. "Yeah. And it doesn't require you to throw yourself into the fire. Want to hear it?"