Beyond the reach of the Immortal Demon Grotto, beyond even the realm where Tao currently treads his destined path, there existed a world of immeasurable power and majesty.
A behemoth of cosmic scale, the Chaos True Beast World loomed in the boundless void—an empire of monstrous might, untouched and unchallenged, radiating a primal, unyielding grace.
This was no ordinary world.
It was an expanding universe unto itself, where galaxies spun like dust motes in the wake of titanic creatures, where planets pulsed with the presence of true beasts, and secret realms lay hidden within the folds of reality, each guarding legacies older than the stars.
At the very heart of this grand dominion lay a colossal, seven-colored planet—a celestial titan so vast that its very landmasses defied logic. These massive continents stretched outward from the planet's surface, extending into the cosmic abyss like the grasping limbs of a primordial god.
One such landmass, dark as the void and layered with ancient power, curved in a great arc—like a shattered bowl cradling an incandescent jewel.
Encasing this planetary leviathan was a golden-red haze, a radiant net of celestial energy that pulsed like the heartbeat of the world itself. It was a realm of such beauty and terror that even divine beings would hesitate to set foot upon it.
Above, three radiant suns bathed the planet in eternal light.
One burned crimson, casting a bloody glow upon the land.
Another shone pure white, cold and unforgiving.
The third, the largest of all, blazed with a golden brilliance so overwhelming that it seemed to dictate the passage of time itself.
Circling the planet, four moons stood stacked one atop another, connected by unseen forces. They did not drift apart, nor did they crumble—they remained anchored, forming a silvery ocean in the sky. Their luminous waves rippled across the heavens, a curtain of celestial mist draping the world in an eternal twilight.
This place was called Boundless—a name spoken in awe and fear. To those who knew its true nature, however, it was known by another name.
The Dragon Realm.
And beyond its mighty bulk, in the vastness of the cosmic sea, lesser planets orbited like satellites, each a dominion belonging to the supreme beings who reigned over Boundless.
The rulers of this realm were none other than the True Dragon Clan.
Their history stretched farther than even the Heavenly Domain of human immortals. They were creatures born in the breath of Chaos itself, their lineage carved into the fabric of the universe long before the rise of mortal empires. From the dawn of time, they had expanded, spreading their bloodline across the 3,000 Greater Worlds and 90,000 Lesser Worlds, seeking only one thing—
Power. Glory. Dominion.
The dragons revered bloodline, but not blindly. In this realm, might make's right. Those who possessed power were honored. Those who lacked it were nothing—mere stepping stones, slaves, or dust beneath the claws of the mighty.
Thus, when mortal dragons ascended beyond their worldly limits, they returned here—to the palaces of the Immortal Dragon Realm, where their strength would be woven into the fabric of their kind, where they would become part of something greater, something eternal.
Atop the throne of this vast dominion stood the Ruling Dragon Clan, sovereigns of an empire built upon the backs of lesser beasts. Their supremacy was absolute, their word law, their will unchallenged.
For in the Chaos True Beast World, one truth echoed across eternity—
The strong devour the weak.
...
The rolling grasslands stretched endlessly, their brilliant green blades undulating like a living ocean, as if the very earth breathed beneath them. Howling winds tore through the countless mountain ranges that jutted from the ground like the spears of ancient war gods, their razor-sharp peaks splitting the very sky.
Above, the firmament was a brilliant azure, but woven through the clouds was a mesmerizing seven-colored radiance—a celestial river reflecting the divine essence of this land. Towering cumulus clouds carried a luminescence akin to molten gold, their edges shimmering like liquid sunfire.
Yet, for all its beauty, this was no peaceful sanctuary.
Faint but dreadful roars echoed through the skies, deep and sonorous, sending tremors through the land. Each reverberation was a proclamation of dominance, a reminder that this was a world where only the strong could stand tall. Beasts of unimaginable size prowled the mountains, their golden eyes gleaming with predatory hunger.
The air itself carried a fragrance both enchanting and perilous—the scent of blooming celestial flowers interwoven with the primal, lingering aura of blood. This land was a paradise, but only for dragons.
Crystalline streams of wind snaked through vast forests of towering trees, their emerald canopies casting deep shadows over the valleys below. Some mountain ranges curled like serpents, their twisting peaks mimicking the forms of slumbering dragons, their very presence radiating ancestral might.
All across the Dragon Realm lay ruins from forgotten eras—abandoned temples, shattered pavilions, and colossal palaces adorned with carvings of legendary cultivators and dragons in their most glorious battles.
These places held not only history but immense power. Treasures lay hidden within, waiting for the bold to claim them—if they could survive the inevitable pursuit of those who would kill to take them back.
....
On a vast stretch of white grasslands, where the skies remained eternally shrouded in thick, swirling storm clouds, a grand sight loomed above. A black jade palace, an indomitable fortress of power, floated high in the void. Its very presence cast an oppressive darkness over the land, swallowing sunlight and replacing it with an eerie, otherworldly glow.
It hovered above an immense valley, nestled between mist-cloaked mountains. The clouds surrounding the valley twisted like ethereal dragons, their forms shifting and writhing as if alive. Yet, even this surreal beauty paled in comparison to the palace itself.
A multi-tiered citadel of black jade, its sweeping golden roofs curved like the wings of a dragon in flight. Thick, silver mist coiled around its edges, obscuring its true size and making it seem as if it stretched into infinity.
A waterfall of pure white essence cascaded down the heart of the mountain below, glowing so brightly it looked like a flowing liquid pearl.
The mountain upon which the palace sat was forged from dark obsidian rock, shimmering with a metallic luster. Its surface was laced with intricate golden array formations, each pulsing with an overwhelming presence of Draconic and Immortal Qi, so dense that reality itself twisted around them.
Beneath this celestial stronghold sprawled an expanse of courtyards, their white jade floors shimmering like stars in the night sky. Majestic villas dotted the landscape, surrounded by legions of Dragon Soldiers, their armor glistening under the shrouded light.
Each of these warriors carried themselves with unwavering pride, for they served none other than the Dragon Sage of the Eclipse, one of the supreme rulers of the Dragon Realm.
And perhaps, the most feared among them all.
Deep within the palace, a cavernous chamber lay at its heart.
Translucent crystals of immeasurable beauty hung from the ceiling like javelins of light, refracting the radiance of divine energy that filled the room. Pools of pure Immortal Qi, vast as lakes, shimmered in every hue imaginable—each radiating a different attribute of power.
And within the largest of these pools, a figure sat in meditation.
A man of colossal stature, standing nine feet tall, his body sculpted to perfection. His wheat-colored skin glowed with vitality, and his long black hair cascaded down his back, moving of its own volition like a living shadow.
Upon his forehead, two spiraling dragon horns, white-gold in color, pierced the heavens—razor-sharp and exuding an aura of supreme dominance.
This was Dai Long, the Sage Dragon of the Eclipse.
A heavy black aura coiled around his body, its presence suffocating. It was Death Qi, an energy so vile that even the fabric of space trembled at its touch. The very void that surrounded his palace darkened in response to his cultivation.
Yet, in the midst of his meditation, his eyes snapped open—twin pools of burning crimson, slit pupils contracting into sharp daggers. His head turned sharply toward the void, where a gaping, violet maw had torn open reality itself. Its jagged edges snapped and twisted like the jaws of a great beast.
"The Dimensional Gap?"
His brows furrowed, a rare look of uncertainty flashing across his usually impassive face. His divine sight pierced through the fabric of space and time, unraveling layers of reality with brute force. His gaze ignored all, sparing no thought for those who might sense his intrusion.
Then, he saw it.
A vast expanse of the void, sealed by Heaven's Will as if punishing something—or someone. Normally, he would pay no mind to such an event. The Dimensional Gap was barren, a desolate place where even True Dragons dared not dwell.
Yet his heart, ancient and unshaken, began to pound violently.
Only twice in his life had he felt this sensation.
Once, when he lost his wife.
And now.
He sensed a familiar sword intent that lingered in that place—suppressed by the might of the heavens, smothered, yet unmistakable. A memory long buried resurfaced, and a thunderous fury erupted in his chest.
A small crackle of black energy coiled around him like writhing serpents. The pools of Qi beneath him evaporated in an instant, their essence sucked dry by the sheer killing intent emanating from his body.
The skies outside turned black.
Lightning, white as death, slashed through the heavens, rending the fabric of reality itself. The ground quaked. The firmament cracked. Chaotic winds screamed as they devoured the very life from the realm.
And then, he roared.
"COURTING DEATH!!!"
The entire Dragon Realm trembled beneath the sound. The three suns dimmed. The skies howled in agony. A black storm of destruction unfurled, ripping through the land, and slaughtering weak cultivators who dared stand too close.
Then, the world darkened.
A shadow eclipsed the heavens, blotting out the suns. The image of a white serpentine dragon head of incomprehensible size appeared like a god. Scales gleaming white like molten stars—rose from the palace, its wrath shaking the very stars.
Dai Long did not hesitate.
With a single thought, he vanished into the void—charging toward the source of his rage.
...
Many sonic booms echoed across the Dragon Realm as figures shot into the sky—men and women robed in resplendent garments, their auras blazing, their eyes turned toward the distant void where the echo of the Death Divine Dragon's roar had just vanished.
They came from every peak, palace, and sacred ground within the Dragon Clan—elders, warriors, disciples, and ancient beings stirred from seclusion. Their murmurs buzzed like a swarm of locusts, but each word struck the air like iron against iron, reverberating through the heavens.
And with each passing second, their voices grew louder.
Louder.
Until even the skies began to rumble under the weight of their building anticipation.
Then—"Enough."
A short but powerful command rang out like a divine thunderclap.
The voices ceased instantly.
That one word froze the blood in every person present. Their hearts skipped a beat. Their qi stilled. An unnatural silence descended.
Then it came—a ripple in the void.
An orange cloud, radiant and blazing hotter than the heart of a sun, emerged from the tear in space. The sheer heat it radiated made the air ripple and shimmer. Sweat poured from the faces of even the mightiest dragons gathered, their brows drenched despite their cultivation.
Within that burning cloud stood a single man.
He was middle-aged, his square jaw set with quiet authority. A long purple robe draped his form—simple in design, but emanating unshakable dominance. He radiated might not through rage or shouting, but by the sheer gravity of his presence.
The orange cloud churned around him like a living inferno, thunder rumbling from deep within its core.
His voice came forth—firm, resolute, and absolute:
"Return to your homes. This is not your concern."
The words were simple.
But no one doubted them.
Without hesitation, the gathered dragons dispersed. One by one, they vanished into streaks of light, flying back to their peaks and halls. The sky grew empty once more, the storm of curiosity and fear quelled in a single breath.
The man in the cloud turned his gaze to a ripple forming beside him in the void.
He spoke, calm but focused:
"Should I go after him?"
For several moments, there was only silence.
Then, his expression shifted—he nodded slightly, as though receiving a response not spoken in words.
The orange cloud wrapped tighter around him, molding to his form like living armor.
Then, with a thunderous boom, he shot from the Dragon Realm into the infinite void, streaking after Dai Long like a comet of flame.
And long after he vanished—A faint sigh drifted through the sky.
Ancient. Tired.
As if the heavens themselves were beginning to realize that a storm had awoken—and it would not be stopped.