# Chapter 12: The Destiny Forged in Tears
Everything that had just happened was beyond Riven's expectations. There was no way on earth he could have imagined the tables would turn in such a way.
He shifted his gaze toward the seven majestic pillars. Narrowing his eyes, he studied them carefully, but at first glance, he could see nothing particularly remarkable—only their strange formation.
When he had first entered this spiritual world, the pillars stood vertically, silent and immovable. Now they arranged themselves in the shape of a heptagon, seven giants surrounding a central point, their bodies glowing with rainbow sparks that danced like living flames.
"What are these seven pillars? How did I get them?"
His voice echoed into the emptiness, yet no answer returned.
Riven's brows knitted as his thoughts spun. He combed through every memory he had, but nowhere could he recall seeing or hearing of anything like this.
"So where did I get them?"
A thought stirred.
"Could these pillars have been left behind by my parents? No… impossible. Father and Mother were rulers of only a small empire. Even if they had been mighty in their own right, they could never have touched something like this, much less planted it within my spiritual world."
He discarded the notion with a bitter shake of his head. After pondering for a while longer and still finding no answer, he forced himself to put the matter aside. For now, another issue weighed heavier—
How was he supposed to leave this place?
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Riven drifted through the endless white expanse for what felt like an eternity, searching for an exit. No matter how far he floated, no gate or doorway appeared. Even when he thought he had reached the center of his spiritual world, the scenery remained the same: pillars of light stretching into infinity, and silence pressing down on him like a great ocean.
At last, weary and frustrated, he turned back toward the seven pillars.
When he returned, they were just as before—arranged in their heptagonal shape, rainbow light surging in the middle like a beating heart. A bold thought arose within him.
"Could that center be the exit?"
It was the only possibility left. And besides, these pillars seemed to acknowledge him, even if they treated him like both ward and prisoner.
Step by cautious step, he floated closer. He expected a reaction—a flare of light, a pulse of rejection—but nothing came. His courage grew, and he pressed forward until he hovered at the very center.
Taking a deep, non-existent breath, Riven let his will steady. Then he entered.
The moment he did, the entire world drowned in rainbow brilliance. His vision filled with blinding radiance until he could see nothing else. For several heartbeats, he floated within it, suspended as though in the womb of creation itself.
Then—darkness.
Pitch-black, suffocating. Nothing but void.
Panic clawed at his chest, until a sudden scent cut through the emptiness—the earthy smell of dust and stone.
Realization struck.
With a gasp, Riven's eyes snapped open. The familiar sight of the old courtroom flooded into view. The jade ceiling shimmered faintly above, and beside him sat the rusted chair where Mr. Xiao had once lounged so smugly.
He had returned.
Riven's eyes stung, and before he could stop them, tears spilled down his face. For the first time in five years, he was not the one defeated. He had survived. He had endured. He had won.
He raised his head to the ceiling, fists clenching as he made a vow:
"I, Riven, will not only live. I will live until the day my mortal life reaches its true end. Not even the heavens shall cut me short. Not even the gods. I will avenge my parents' deaths. If I gain strength and power, I will stand as protector of the weak and the oppressed. I will not give up on my broken dantian. I will not bow to fate. I will forge my destiny with my own hands and will."
His words thundered silently within the hall. Yet as he spoke, something else stirred.
Beside him, the old chair trembled. What once appeared to be one of its rotting wooden legs shimmered faintly, revealing itself to be not wood at all, but a rusted metal bar—ancient and unyielding.
The metal pulsed, as if answering his emotions. The fiercer his vow, the stronger its response, vibrating with a resonance that made the air hum.
Riven, too caught up in the storm of his emotions, did not notice. Tears poured freely down his cheeks, carving clean lines through the layers of dust that clung to his bronze skin. In all his years within the Argus Clan, no beating, no humiliation, no cruelty had ever broken him to tears. He had endured it all in silence.
But now, in the aftermath of victory, when hope and purpose ignited within him once more, he could not hold back. The tears he had locked away for years flowed at last, washing the weight from his soul.
It took him over an hour to calm down.
At last, he straightened his back. His eyes gleamed with determination, even as he remembered Mr. Xiao's venomous last words—and the chilling reminder that others might be watching from the shadows.
He shook his head. "Let them watch. If they want my body, they'll have to enter my spiritual world… and I have the pillars to greet them."
As he stood, a familiar ripple stirred within his soul. His eyes narrowed. The sensation came from the direction of the chair.
Cautious, he circled it. Then his gaze locked onto the rusted metal bar.
"What is this?"
He reached out and touched it.
The moment his fingers closed around the metal, the chair collapsed into dust. In that instant, Riven's consciousness was wrenched away.
His soul was cast into a vast and terrible space.
Planets loomed like titans, stars blazed in the infinite distance, and celestial bodies of unimaginable scale moved with serene majesty. Riven felt like a speck of dust in a cosmic storm. The sheer immensity made his heart tremble—he knew instinctively that any stray motion from these beings could erase him without effort.
Then he saw it.
A figure wrapped in divine starlight, its robe woven from constellations, its form shifting like galaxies in motion. The sight froze him in awe, yet a strange sensation bloomed in his chest—familiarity. He knew this being, and yet… he did not.
The figure stirred.
Two blazing eyes opened within the veil of starlight, burning like twin suns. They turned and fixed directly on Riven.
The weight of that gaze struck him like lightning. His soul jolted violently, his breath seizing as if the cosmos itself pressed down upon him.
And then—everything went still.