Chapter 698: Half-Ancestor Realm
The cycle of years turned, and before anyone realized it, ten months had gone by.
Back mountain of the Heavenly Mansion.
On that solitary, mist‑wreathed peak, a lone figure sat straight and still, like an old monk in meditation as spring, summer, autumn, and winter seemed to pass over him again and again.
His hair and features shifted constantly between the withering of age and the freshness of youth, an endless rotation of decay and rebirth.
That figure was, of course, Lin Langtian, still in seclusion.
As time passed, even the ordinary disciples of the Heavenly Mansion could faintly sense a terrifying Yuan Power fluctuation slowly condensing in the back mountain.
Around Lin Langtian's body rolled a dense sea of Yuan mist, making him seem remote and ethereal, like an immortal above the dust.
That mist was pure Yuan Power in liquid form; even a Reincarnation precursor expert would feel on the verge of bursting if they inhaled a single breath of it.
The concentration of power within was fearsome beyond words.
At the foot of the peak, Zhou Tong and the others looked up at that lonely figure, eyes full of awe.
To face all three Reincarnation Tribulations at once was madness.
Yet on Lin Langtian, it felt only natural.
"At this rate, the Palace Master should be almost done, right?" Zhou Tong murmured.
He could feel that the Yuan mist around Lin Langtian was reaching its absolute limit.
If it swelled any further, the entire Heavenly Mansion might drown in it.
For the disciples, that ocean of power would be a disaster.
A Death Profound elder who had accidentally inhaled a lungful had nearly exploded on the spot.
Since then, the back mountain had been declared forbidden ground; no one under Reincarnation was allowed near.
If Lin Langtian did not break through soon, they would have no choice but to evacuate the sect.
Boom!
Just as his mutter faded, a strange sound rippled through the sky.
Countless disciples looked up in surprise to see the sea of mist—spreading for a hundred miles in every direction—begin to move.
Bang!
Before they could react, the mist twisted into a colossal vortex, roaring like a hurricane.
Then it became a myriad of fog‑dragons, each thousands of meters long, all plunging toward the silent figure on the peak.
It was like watching a divine vacuum cleaner turned up to full power.
Jaws dropped across the Heavenly Mansion.
That mist was so dense that a single breath had almost killed a Death Profound expert… and Lin Langtian was calmly absorbing every last wisp of it.
The difference between them was like a drop of water and the ocean.
Under countless tense stares, half an incense stick later, the last traces of Yuan mist vanished from the sky.
The figure on the peak came back into clear view.
He wore green robes, his black hair stirring gently in the wind.
He looked like an exiled immortal.
His handsome features bore a maturity and steadiness that did not match his apparent youth.
An indescribable majesty flowed from him.
His eyes were as dark as an abyss, as if they had watched centuries rise and fall.
He stepped into the air, his long fingers slowly curling into fists.
A pillar of light blasted skyward from his body and unfurled into a colossal disk above the nine heavens.
The disk turned slowly, without beginning or end, like the wheel of Reincarnation itself.
"The Wheel of Reincarnation…"
Zhou Tong and the others stared blankly for a moment.
Then their eyes flew wide.
Three titanic imprints, each thousands of meters long, glowed upon the wheel.
Ancient, mysterious, and tinged with a trace of dark allure, they pulsed with a power that seemed to shake past and present.
One Reincarnation Mark meant one completed Tribulation.
Three meant all three Tribulations had been conquered.
Joy burst across Zhou Tong's face.
"He did it," he breathed.
"All three Tribulations… in one stroke."
The feat was terrifying beyond belief.
High above, Lin Langtian studied the wheel, noting how the three strange, beautiful marks had formed from the fusion of his Yuan Power and demonic qi.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
He could tell his Reincarnation Marks were different from others'.
The reason was obvious: the Yuan‑Demon Power.
As for exactly how strong he was now, he could not say.
But he could feel it.
He had surpassed the Ancient Masters.
Even the Ice Master and the Heavenly King Hall were far behind him.
His satisfaction lasted only a heartbeat.
His expression shifted.
He turned his head sharply toward the distant horizon.
At the foot of the peak, Zhou Tong and the others felt it too.
Their heads snapped up as one.
In the distance lay the Chaotic Demon Sea—the place where the Ice Master and the Ancient Masters were using the Eight Ancestral Symbols to help her assault the Ancestor Realm.
"…No."
The thought hit them all together.
High above the Chaotic Demon Sea, demonic qi was seeping through the crack in the skies.
It poured straight through the dimming dimensional seal.
The mere presence of that power dimmed the sun.
A thin crack appeared upon the seal.
Every hair on every neck stood on end.
Behind that crack… there was an eye.
Gigantic, bloodless, and utterly indifferent, it watched them like a god staring down at insects.
That gaze alone made the world go cold.
Even peak Reincarnation experts felt their Yuan Power freeze in their veins.
Faces went chalk white.
Who else but the Yimo Emperor could wield such power from beyond the world?
The eye drifted across the continent, sweeping through every land in a matter of moments.
Then it fixed upon the great formation above the Chaotic Demon Sea.
More precisely, upon the ice sculpture at its heart.
Ying Huanhuan.
For the first time, emotion stirred within the eye.
Boom!
Thunder rumbled beyond the sky.
Everyone on the continent felt that gaze settle fully upon the ice.
"What is he doing?!"
The cry burst from a dozen throats at once.
At the seal, a surge of demonic qi boiled out, shaping itself into a pallid giant hand.
The hand was vast beyond measure—its surface crawling with threads of evil so thick they felt like blades.
It pushed straight through the still‑standing seal and tore open the air as it reached for the formation.
The Emperor meant to crush the Ice Master, even as she strove for the Ancestor Realm.
He had seen her intent as clearly as if she had shouted it in his ear.
"Damn it, he's going for the Ice Master!"
Panic erupted.
Ice Master's breakthrough was their last hope.
If she fell here, their world would be finished.
"Stop him!"
Fear and fury crashed together.
Strong men and women roared their defiance and hurled themselves at the hand.
Streaks of light filled the sky.
Tens of millions of beams of Yuan Power smashed into the pale flesh in a continuous hail.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
The hand did not even tremble.
It ignored them entirely and drove downward.
The sea exploded.
A vortex hundreds of thousands of meters across opened in the waves, water shoved aside by brute force.
The hand plunged through every ward and barrier thrown in its way and descended upon the formation.
Crack.
It shattered the outer layers like glass.
"Hold it!"
The Master of Life and Death and the others snapped their eyes open.
Blood drained from their faces.
Their hands blurred.
Power exploded from them in a blinding tide.
"Guardian of the Ancestor!"
Light poured from their bodies and came together into a single, ancient figure.
It wrapped its arms around them and threw itself between the formation and the falling hand.
The blow stopped.
For a heartbeat.
Then cracks raced across the guardian's form.
Blood seeped from the Masters' noses.
The Yimo Emperor's casual might dwarfed anything they had imagined.
Bang!
The radiant guardian shattered.
The fragments dissolved into motes of light.
The six Ancient Masters' auras collapsed.
Blood sprayed from their mouths and nostrils alike.
Their bodies tumbled from the sky like birds with broken wings.
As they fell, they saw the hand about to crush the ice.
"Is it… over?"
Despair hollowed them out.
The same thought struck every heart across the land.
Hope was breaking.
Faces went slack.
Legs buckled.
Whoosh.
In the midst of that dead silence, a sharp sound cracked the sky.
Some numb eyes turned toward it on instinct.
Then widened.
A young man in green stood between the hand and the ice.
He looked impossibly small beneath that titanic palm.
Yet he stood there calmly, without fear or haste, as if he belonged in that space more than the hand itself.
Lin Langtian.
Light flared from his body as Yuan‑Demon Power roared to life.
The force of it stopped the descending palm cold—and then shoved it back.
"Lord Lin Langtian!"
"Elder Lin Langtian!"
"I thought he was still in seclusion!"
"Has he… broken through?"
The Chaotic Demon Sea exploded into sound as the realization spread.
Joy and disbelief twisted together in every shout, every tear.
High above, Lin Langtian stared up at the Demon Emperor's Hand, feeling something hot thrum through his veins.
Warlust.
He blurred, appearing in front of the hand with a single step.
Then he struck.
Bang!
The world shook.
The Demon Emperor's Hand reeled.
Before anyone could breathe, cracks began to spread across its surface.
They spiderwebbed outward in a heartbeat.
And then, under the stunned eyes of an entire continent, the hand shattered.
(END CHAPTER)
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