The aftermath of the Skyward Path trial left the valley steeped in profound silence. The energies had not merely stirred—they had been awakened. The lingering Qi twisted around Li Yi like a living thing, both reverent and wary, as if the world itself now recognized a force that did not belong to it.
It was dawn once more. The sun broke over the jagged cliffs behind them, its light catching the edges of floating petals—remnants from the celestial trial—that shimmered like fragments of a dream. The valley, quiet for centuries, was now alive. The ancient array beneath the ground thrummed with new purpose.
Li Yi stood at the summit of the broken staircase, his hair caught in the wind, robes fluttering like banners of defiance. His gaze wasn't on the valley but on the sky—beyond the clouds, beyond the reach of mortal perception.
The others waited below.
Lan Qing'er clutched her recording talisman with trembling hands, unable to find the words to speak. Even her notes, detailed and meticulous, felt inadequate to capture what she had witnessed.
Xue Lian, usually composed, looked up at him with open awe. "His presence… it's not just spiritual. It's celestial."
Mo Ruyan kept her blade drawn. She was calm on the surface, but her fingers tapped lightly against the hilt—an old habit whenever she stood in the presence of something she didn't understand. Or something dangerous.
Because that was what Li Yi had become.
Not a mere genius. Not a prodigy.
A variable.
One that could overturn the balance of realms.
—
They didn't speak much during the descent from the valley. The once-dormant creatures of the forest edge now bowed their heads in submission as they passed. Even the wind shifted around them instead of against them, avoiding the presence of the one who had walked the hundred steps and returned.
It wasn't until nightfall that they found shelter again—a small ridge beneath a cluster of celestial willows, their branches glowing faintly blue in the starlight. A nearby stream sang softly to itself, winding between polished stones and feeding into a crystal pond that reflected the moon like a mirror.
Lan Qing'er set up the warding array while Mo Ruyan patrolled the perimeter. Xue Lian was silent, seated in meditation, likely digesting what she had seen. But Li Yi did not meditate.
He sat at the edge of the water, barefoot, with his legs crossed and his Chaos Core slowly rotating inside him.
It was changing.
The core pulsed with colorless light, like the void before creation. It had begun forming rings—five already—each representing a layer of law and comprehension. Most cultivators, even in the Upper Realm, would struggle to complete even three rings without decades of training. Li Yi had five within hours.
Suddenly, a ripple spread through the night.
A faint vibration, barely perceptible, but unmistakably unnatural. Mo Ruyan returned first, blade drawn, eyes narrowed.
"Something's approaching," she said.
Lan Qing'er activated the defensive glyphs, surrounding the grove in a soft blue dome of energy. "It's not a beast. It's spiritual."
Li Yi stood. "It's a message."
They looked at him.
He stepped out of the protective array, walking toward the trees. The branches of the celestial willows moved aside for him, revealing a figure hidden among the roots—cloaked in black, face obscured by shadow. A faint ethereal glow surrounded them, like moonlight refracted through mist.
"Li Yi," the figure said. "You've woken something you do not yet understand."
Li Yi didn't flinch. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head. "A remnant of the God Realm. A Watcher."
Behind him, his companions tensed.
The Watcher continued. "When the gates to the God Realm were sealed, not all beings returned. Some of us were instructed to observe… to find potential vessels should the barrier weaken. You were not expected. You… were unknown."
"Then I'm not your vessel," Li Yi replied.
"No. But you are something far more dangerous."
There was silence.
Li Yi's hand moved to the sheath of his sword.
The Watcher raised a single hand. "You've stepped on the Path of Chaos. A road that predates even the celestial orders. Your second core is evidence enough."
"So?" Li Yi asked.
The Watcher turned its gaze upward. "In the sky above lies the Divine Cage. A fragment of the ancient battlefield where the God Realm sealed the Abyss. That seal is weakening. What you awakened today sent a ripple through it."
"Then why are you here?" Li Yi asked. "To warn me? Threaten me?"
"Neither," the Watcher said. "To offer knowledge."
The figure stepped closer, revealing an orb of swirling white and gold light.
"This is a Memory Seed," it explained. "A record from the old war. It will show you what the cultivators of the God Realm truly faced… and what will come if the seal breaks."
Li Yi did not hesitate. He extended his hand and touched the orb.
—
His vision was swallowed in white.
He stood now in a battlefield that stretched beyond time. The sky above was broken—a sea of black and violet storm clouds, crackling with demonic thunder. Towers made of starlight burned as a massive abyssal tide swept across them—hordes of monsters with eyes like suns, limbs like tentacles of void, and mouths that sang in languages that shattered the soul.
In the center stood a woman.
Her back to him, her robes torn, her long hair tangled with blood. Her aura was vast—divine—and Li Yi recognized it.
His mother.
She stood beside a man wrapped in flames, another cloaked in chains of light, and a third with wings made of celestial ore. Together they unleashed a torrent of divine arts—burning through the abyssal wave with the fury of gods.
But it wasn't enough.
From the center of the horde emerged a shape. Colossal. Horned. Wreathed in voidfire and dragging behind it a shattered planet like a chained weapon.
The Abyssal King.
It laughed, and the world split.
The woman turned, eyes meeting Li Yi's through time.
Her lips moved.
"Son… live."
Then the vision ended.
Li Yi gasped, falling to one knee. His Chaos Core surged wildly, rejecting the input, then adapting, spinning faster. Images of the war still echoed in his mind, but his breathing calmed slowly.
The Watcher nodded. "You understand now."
Li Yi stood. "No. But I will."
The Watcher began to fade. "The path ahead is no longer about cultivation alone. The Abyss will breach the realms again. And you… will have to decide whether to seal it, or open it."
Before Li Yi could speak, the figure vanished.
—
Back at the grove, the night returned to stillness. Li Yi sat once again at the pond, absorbing what he had seen.
Mo Ruyan approached, her voice low. "You're one of them, aren't you? From the God Realm."
"No," he said. "I'm something else."
She nodded. That answer, vague as it was, made a strange sort of sense.
Lan Qing'er walked over and handed him her notes. "You're going to need allies," she said.
"I have them."
She smiled faintly. "Good. Because after tonight, the realm knows your name."
Far to the east, in the heart of the continent, at the towering peaks of the Nine Sovereign Sect, a celestial mirror cracked. The image of a young man climbing the Skyward Path and touching a divine gate had sent ripples even here.
The elders gathered.
One spoke: "A storm is rising. Find him."
Another whispered: "The Chaos Bloodline… has returned."
---
End of Chapter 29