It had been weeks since Yangshen's humiliating "training recovery."The laughter had faded, but the memory hadn't. Neither had the image of Alter's Creator's Banishment — carved into his mind like a scar.
For the first time in years, Yangshen's cultivation felt… small. No, not small — incomplete.And that gnawed at him far more than Yuyin's sharp tongue or Jinhai's jabs ever could.
That's what brought him to the Sea of Consciousness today, standing before Alter at the center of the training ground. The mists swirled quietly around them, an empty expanse save for the faint shimmer of the horizon.
Yangshen's voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the weight behind it."Alter… teach me."
Alter's gaze sharpened slightly. "Teach you what?"
Yangshen hesitated only a breath. "The Demon God Killing Martial Arts."
The request hung between them like a drawn blade.
From the edge of the ground, Jinhai looked up sharply. "Oh, this should be good."Meiyun's lips quirked in mild surprise. "Are you trying to die, or just skip the middle steps?"Even Yuyin's brow rose, though she said nothing — her silence louder than any mockery.
Alter's expression didn't change. "You've seen what it is. You've felt what it does. And you want to learn it?"
Yangshen nodded, a spark of resolve lighting his eyes. "Yes. I don't care how long it takes, or how hard it breaks me. If there's even a chance I can stand at your side, I need to take it."
For a long moment, Alter simply studied him. Then, he stepped forward, his presence filling the space like the weight of a storm before it breaks.
"The first strike," Alter said slowly, "is called Fist of Ruin. It's the simplest form — and still enough to shatter bone, armor, and resolve in the same breath."
"Good," Yangshen said. "Then—"
"You don't understand," Alter interrupted. "Even one form will rewrite how your body handles force. If your foundation is weak, it will crack. The power will eat into your meridians. Your own qi will burn you from the inside out. And you will not recover."
Yangshen stiffened, but didn't look away. "Then I'll rebuild from the ashes if I have to."
The other three ancestors exchanged glances — for once, without any trace of humor.
Alter let the silence stretch, then finally gave a wry smile that carried no warmth."Very well. But you don't practice the Demon God Killing Martial Arts. You survive it. Remember that before you strike."
Yangshen exhaled slowly, feeling the finality of the moment sink in. "I understand."
Alter raised one hand. "Then watch closely."
He shifted his stance, lowering his center, the air around his fist thickening like molten metal cooling too fast. A low hum built, the ground beneath them beginning to tremble. The mists in the distance shivered — not from wind, but from the pull of Alter's intent.
"Strike One: Fist of Ruin."
BOOOOOOMMM.
The force erupted like the sky had collapsed. A shockwave rolled out, bending the horizon, rattling the bones in Yangshen's chest. It was more than impact — it was destruction given shape.
When the sound faded, Alter lowered his hand and stepped back."That," he said, "is the weakest you'll ever see it."
Yangshen's throat was dry. His hands tingled from the residual vibrations. And yet, deep in his chest, there was something else — not fear this time, but the quiet, burning desire to make that strike his own.
Alter's gaze lingered on him. "If you truly want to walk this path, you train here. With me. No distractions. No boasting. You will learn discipline first, or you will break before you ever land the blow."
Yangshen swallowed, then nodded once. "Then I'll start now."
For the first time since the feast, Yuyin's lips curved — not in mockery, but in approval.
Jinhai smirked. "This should be interesting."Meiyun's eyes gleamed. "Or catastrophic."
Either way, the next chapter of Yangshen's cultivation had begun.
The Sea of Consciousness shimmered under a pale silver glow, the training ground cleared to an open circle of polished stone. Alter stood in the center, calm and immovable, while Yangshen approached with the look of a man who had convinced himself he was ready for anything.
"First day," Alter said, his voice steady, "and we don't start with the strike itself. You'll learn to survive the recoil before you ever land a blow."
Yangshen frowned. "Recoil? I've thrown strikes since I was old enough to stand. I can—"
Alter cut him off with a single raised finger. "The Fist of Ruin doesn't just transfer force into the target. It sends just as much back into you. If your body can't hold it, the blow will break you before your enemy."
Before Yangshen could respond, Alter turned and slammed his fist into the open air.
BOOOOOOMMMMM!
The shockwave ripped out like a wall of compressed storm, stopping only inches before Yangshen's chest. Even at that distance, the force hit him like a boulder rolling downhill. His legs buckled, boots skidding against the polished floor. By the time he caught himself, he was breathing harder than he wanted to admit.
"That," Alter said, "was a fraction of the recoil. Your job is to stand through it without moving."
Jinhai's voice floated from the side. "This is going to be painful."Meiyun smiled faintly. "I give him three minutes."Yuyin crossed her arms, her tone dry. "You're both being generous."
Trial One
Alter stepped into position, fist drawn back. "Ready yourself."
Yangshen set his stance, planting his feet wide, channeling qi into his core. "Ready."
BOOOOMMMMM!
The impact hit like a floodgate bursting. Yangshen's knees gave instantly, the force shoving him backward three full steps before he managed to hold. His ears rang, vision swimming.
Alter gave a single nod. "Better than I expected for the first try."
Yangshen grimaced. "That was—"
"A quarter strength," Alter said.
Trial Two
Yangshen braced again, adjusting his footing.
BOOOOOOMMMMM!
This time he held for almost two seconds before the force pushed him onto one knee. His palms slapped the floor to steady himself.
From the edge, Jinhai called out, "You're supposed to stay standing, you know."Meiyun added, "The floor isn't the enemy, Yangshen."Yuyin smirked. "Though judging by the noise you're making, the floor might be winning."
Yangshen shot them a glare that only made them look more amused.
Trial Three
Alter didn't even ask if he was ready. The blow came faster this time, the air screaming as it split.
BOOOOOMMMMMM!
The shockwave slammed into him, every muscle screaming in protest. For one glorious second, Yangshen held — then the recoil rattled through his spine, knocking the breath from his lungs. He staggered back three steps, gasping.
Alter studied him for a long moment. "Your stance is improving. Your core… not enough."
Yangshen wiped sweat from his brow. "How long until I can actually throw the strike?"
"When you can take recoil at half strength without moving an inch," Alter said.
Yangshen blinked. "Half strength? How long until full strength?"
"By then," Alter said evenly, "you'll either be ready… or gone."
From the sidelines, Jinhai leaned toward Meiyun. "Gone where, exactly?"Meiyun shrugged. "Could be dead. Could be just hiding from Yuyin after another bad training day."Yuyin's smirk was faint but sharp. "If he's smart, he'll learn to stand before he learns to punch. I'm not in the mood to carry him home again."
Yangshen straightened slowly, breathing deep. His arms trembled, his legs ached, but his eyes were sharp now.
"Again," he said.
Alter's golden eyes glinted. "Good."
The next shockwave was already on its way.
Days bled together in the Sea of Consciousness.Shockwave after shockwave, stance after stance, Yangshen endured them all. His legs shook, his back screamed, and his arms felt like lead every night — but he didn't stop.
And then, finally, it happened.
Alter stood in the center of the training ground, his golden eyes cool and unreadable."Half strength," he said. "Last time, you lasted four seconds. Today… stand."
Yangshen exhaled slowly, grounding himself. His feet sank into the stone, qi coiled through his core like molten iron. He nodded once. "Do it."
Alter's fist drew back. The mists trembled.
—BOOOOOOMMMMM!
The shockwave crashed into Yangshen like a wall of steel. For a moment his body screamed to yield — but his stance held. Knees locked, core tight, arms steady. The recoil slammed through him again and again, but he gritted his teeth and stayed rooted.
Five seconds.Six.Seven.
The blast faded. Yangshen stood tall, breath ragged but triumphant. A slow smile spread across his face. "Hah… I did it."
From the sidelines, Jinhai raised his brows. "Well, I'll be damned."Meiyun gave an approving nod. "Not bad."Yuyin's lips curved into a faint smile. "Finally."
Yangshen straightened fully, looking Alter dead in the eye. "Alright. I'm ready for the real thing."
Alter's mouth quirked — not quite a smile, but close. "Are you?"
Before Yangshen could answer, Alter's stance shifted.There was no countdown. No warning. Just—
—BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!
The shockwave hit like the heavens themselves had swung a mountain at him. Yangshen's vision went white. His feet actually lifted off the floor before the force hurled him backward in a graceless arc. He bounced twice, skidding across the training ground until he came to a limp stop at the far edge.
The mists swirled gently around his sprawled form. Somewhere above him, Jinhai's voice was barely containing laughter. "And there it is."Meiyun smirked. "New personal best — and new personal flight record."Yuyin didn't even try to hide her grin. "I told him to stand before he tried to punch. Now he can't even stand."
Yangshen lay there for a long moment, staring blankly into the silver sky. Finally, he muttered, "I'm done. I give up. This art isn't for me."
Alter walked over, looking down at him with a faintly amused expression. "Giving up after one real taste? Pity."
Yangshen sat up slowly, rubbing his neck. "No, not pity. Wisdom. I'd like to survive the next few decades without my spine being turned into powder."
The other three ancestors burst into open laughter.
Yangshen sighed, stood, and brushed himself off. "From now on, I'll stick to techniques that don't try to erase me from existence."
Alter's eyes glinted. "Until you change your mind."
Yangshen gave him a flat look. "…Don't hold your breath."
By the time Yangshen left the Sea of Consciousness, word had already traveled ahead of him. Not through servants. Not through rumor.
Through Yuyin.
When he stepped back into their private courtyard that evening, the sight that greeted him nearly made him turn around and walk back into Alter's training ground.
A long banquet table had been set up under strings of lanterns, covered in mismatched dishes clearly pulled from storage. A banner hung lopsided over the table, hand-painted in bold brush strokes:
"CONGRATULATIONS ON QUITTING!"
Jinhai sat at one end of the table, trying to keep a straight face as he poured wine. Meiyun leaned back in her chair, sipping tea like this was the most normal evening in the world.
And in the center of it all, Yuyin stood with her arms crossed and a smug little smile that could have sliced steel.
"Oh good," she said sweetly. "The guest of honor has arrived."
Yangshen froze. "…What is this?"
"Your retirement party," Yuyin said without missing a beat. "From the Demon God Killing Martial Arts program. We thought it only proper to mark the occasion."
"I didn't retire—"
"Of course not," Jinhai cut in smoothly, lifting his cup. "You made a strategic withdrawal from a doomed campaign."
Meiyun set her cup down. "And showed great wisdom in not dying from recoil trauma."
Before Yangshen could reply, Yuyin stepped forward, holding something in her hands. A round, gleaming object dangling from a ribbon.
Yangshen squinted. "…Is that—?"
"Yes," Yuyin said, her grin widening. "A medal. Handcrafted this afternoon. I call it the Medal of Tactical Retreat."
She slipped it over his head before he could move, the cool metal resting against his chest. Stamped across its front in immaculate calligraphy were the words:
"KNOWING WHEN TO QUIT"
The table erupted into laughter.
Yangshen stared down at the medal, then up at Yuyin. "You went through all this trouble today?"
She tilted her head. "You think I don't plan for these moments?"
Jinhai raised his cup in a toast. "To Yangshen — the man wise enough to step back… before Alter accidentally erases him from reality."
Yangshen groaned and dropped into a chair, rubbing his forehead. "I hate all of you."
Yuyin patted his shoulder. "We love you too, dear. Now eat before your medal tarnishes."
The Sea of Consciousness lay in its eternal stillness. Light swayed through its endless waters in slow, deliberate pulses, as though the very realm breathed in time with an unseen heart.
Four ripples converged upon the shore—taking form, solidifying into the shapes of the Zhenglong ancestors.
Zhenlong Yuying stood first, her silver hair catching the realm's tranquil glow, her presence as steady as the ancient tide.
Jinhai followed, arms folded in that same measured stance he carried into every moment of gravity.
Meiyun emerged more hesitantly, her every step softened by a quiet reverence.
And last came Yangshen—his height and composure intact, yet his gaze carried the weight of something deeper… and more uncertain.
They had come to witness.They had come for Alter's final moment.
But the sight that greeted them stole the breath from their lungs.
At the heart of the Sea, seated upon a lotus woven from strands of fading light, was Alter.
His divine brilliance no longer burned—it flickered. The once-commanding aura that had filled this realm now trembled against the pull of the inevitable.His form was no longer a spirit's echo but wholly present—solid, tangible, and visibly strained. Sweat trailed down his temple, his hands trembled faintly, and every breath seemed measured against the ache of holding on too long.
He was still regal—still impossibly young and handsome—but exhaustion softened his sharp edges.And in his eyes… pain.Not the pain of wounds, but the kind that comes from release—knowing the moment to let go had arrived.
The four ancestors began forward—instinct urging them closer.But as Meiyun reached out, Alter raised a hand, unsteady yet unmistakable.
"Stop…"
The air itself obeyed. Time paused for the space of a heartbeat.
"…The time has passed," Alter murmured, voice faint but unwavering. "I'm resisting it now… just to see you one last time."
The still light around him deepened, wrapping his form in a dim halo.
"I wanted… to look at all of you once more."
His gaze rose, golden eyes meeting each in turn.
"Great-Grandmother Yuying…Great-Granduncle Jinhai…Great-Grandaunt Meiyun…And you, Great-Grandfather Yangshen…"
He smiled faintly, the corners of his lips betraying the weight of the words.
"It's been fun. All of it."
The Sea pulsed—soft, like a farewell sigh.
"In all my lives… I finally felt what family meant. After so many losses… this time, I wasn't alone."
Yuying's lips parted, but no sound came—her eyes already shimmering. Meiyun's throat tightened. Jinhai turned his head slightly, his jaw hard. Yangshen said nothing, but his gaze sharpened, unflinching.
"But this is only the beginning," Alter whispered.
"Even if I fade here… I'll always be around.In Haotian and wherever that light grows… I'll be there."
The four bowed their heads in unspoken understanding. They wanted no part of this farewell—but they could not fight it.
Alter's hand turned upward.
The Sea moved. Not in waves, but in intent—a current that pushed them back, not harshly, but with the gentleness of a father setting a child down to sleep.
Their forms began to dissolve into mist, drifting away from the center.
As they faded from sight, Alter tilted his head toward the unseen heights above.
"…Gaia."
A voice came, smooth as flowing water, warm as the final sun of autumn. "Yes, Alter. It is time."
His eyes softened. He nodded once.
And then he let go.
His body glowed—not in blinding brilliance, but in a warm, encompassing light. Threads of his being unraveled, drifting upward into the vast waters. Each filament hummed with a fragment of memory, a shard of power, a pulse of love. The man became the current, the current became the Sea… and then, the Sea closed.
He was gone.
The Mortal Realm
Yuying's eyes snapped open.
The others stirred in the same instant, breath quick, hearts pounding. They stood over Haotian's still form in the dim chamber, the echoes of what they'd just witnessed lingering like a phantom weight in the air.
Then—
WAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
The cry cut through the silence like sunlight tearing through clouds.
Haotian moved—his tiny arms flailing, his legs kicking, his lips parting in a wail that carried no pain, only life.
Outside, heads turned toward the sound. Ruolan froze mid-step.
Her husband, Wuhen, stiffened before striding forward. Servants stopped as though struck still. Even the guards beyond the terrace paused.
The cry rose again, echoing through the halls.
Then—silence.
The chamber doors creaked open.
Yangshen stepped out first, his expression unreadable.
Jinhai followed, arms folded.
Meiyun emerged next, her eyes shimmering with quiet awe.
And last—
Yuying, cradling Haotian in her arms.
The child's eyes—clear and bright, shimmering with something ancient—locked onto her face. His tiny fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve.
Yuying stopped in front of Ruolan. Their eyes met, and without looking away, she gently extended the child forward.
"Ruolan," she said softly, a tear slipping down her cheek, "your son has awakened."
Ruolan's hands trembled as she took him. Tears burst down her face as she pressed her forehead to his.
"Haotian… can you hear me?" Her voice broke on the words. "I'm your mother. I'm here… Mama's here…"
The child gazed into her eyes.
And then—he smiled. Small, pure, certain.
Ruolan's sob became a laugh as she held him tighter, whispering words of thanks, of love, of promise.
Behind her, Meiyun and Yuying turned slightly, each hiding their eyes with quiet hands. Yangshen's voice came low, steady.
"…Remember his final words. He's still with us."
They nodded, their grief tempered by the truth of it.
And in that quiet courtyard, where despair had once lingered like a shadow—there was now the bright, ringing echo of new life.
For the first time since his birth…
Haotian had arrived.