CHAPTER 226: MORE IRREGULARS, THE GREAT DIVIDER

Though they had spoken for what felt like hours within their soul, in reality, not even a single second had passed.

Yu Xuan’s eyes opened.

One shone a pure, blinding white.

The other, an abyss of endless black.

He flexed his hands slowly, feeling the familiar pulse of power flow through his veins.

’Weak,’ he thought, it carried the calm of his older self — now the one in possession.

All around, disciples were landing across the vast land, readying themselves. Some were cautious, others brimming with fighting spirit. A silent tension filled the air like a string stretched to its limit.

Yu Xuan exhaled softly.

He began using his [Primordial Breath Technique], his every breath harmonizing with the rhythm of heaven and earth. Then channeled his cultivation technique accordingly, in the next instant, his cultivation base surged like a tidal wave breaking its dam.

Second Stage Foundation Establishment.

Third Stage.

Fourth Stage.

.

.

.

Twelfth Stage.

In just a few seconds, Yu Xuan’s aura reached the absolute peak of the Foundation Establishment realm, as he had already opened all his gates for this realm, cultivation was easy.

But his expression remained calm, even dissatisfied.

’Still too weak. I don’t have time for the Dance of Rebirth, but this should be enough,’ he thought.

The knowledge of his [Dance of Rebirth] technique began shifting within his consciousness, adapting and evolving, laying the groundwork for a Heavenly Grade Foundation.

His quiet storm did not go unnoticed.

High above the illusionary realm, four figures observed this from a golden pavilion now — the Martial Ancestor, Grand Elder Baotian, High Elder Wuji, and Peak Master Fang Wu.

Fang Wu was the first to speak, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"...Irregular."

Baotian stroked his beard, nodding.

"His cultivation method is... unique, to say the least."

Wuji’s sharp eyes didn’t waver.

"Even so, his realm is still the lowest among those gathered."

The Martial Ancestor remained silent, his gaze deep and unreadable. He looked at Yu Xuan once, then shifted his attention elsewhere.

Meanwhile, Fang Wu activated his divine sense, his spiritual perception sweeping through every disciple in the realm, matching their faces with the records in the sect’s archives.

Then his brows furrowed.

"Another two irregulars..." he murmured.

The first was a girl — white hair cascading like moonlight, twin black horns forming a crown upon her head. A quiet pressure emanated from her, primal and ancient.

Baotian’s composure cracked slightly.

"An Elder Dragon... and those two bloodlines merged? What in the heavens are those dragons thinking..."

Wuji said nothing, his expression cold as a blade’s edge.

The Martial Ancestor’s gaze lingered on the girl for a heartbeat longer than necessary before shifting again.

The second irregular drew even more attention.

A youth with abyssal hair and eyes, his expression utterly lifeless, like a corpse that refused to die.

Wuji’s eyes narrowed.

"Isn’t that a boy from the Death Clan?"

"I remember that the Peak Master of the Life and Death Peak took in a disciple."

Fang Wu muttered, genuinely surprised.

"But he’s been in seclusion for years... how could I have missed this?"

He clenched his fists slightly.

’Someone’s been hiding his information,’ he realized, his divine sense sharpening with suspicion.

The Martial Ancestor finally rose from his seat.

"That’s enough," he said calmly.

"They’ve had their time to settle."

But before he could continue, space itself rippled beside him.

A figure materialized — faintly ethereal, his form shimmering with threads of golden light. He appeared to be in his thirties, though the ageless aura he carried spoke otherwise.

It was Tianling, the Artifact Spirit of the Mini Heaven Immortal Sect.

"You’re not trying to throw a party without me, right?" Tianling chuckled, his tone light and teasing.

"Tianling..." The Martial Ancestor’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"You wouldn’t have come here without a reason."

"Indeed," Tianling replied, folding his arms with a grin.

"I have a request."

The Martial Ancestor sighed softly.

"What is it now?"

Tianling’s expression turned faintly serious.

"I hope no one dies during your inheritor selection."

The Martial Ancestor stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head.

"That is impossible. Only the one who endures to the end is worthy. The unworthy must fall — their destinies will merge into the one who rises. You understand that, don’t you?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," Tianling said breezily.

"But, you see... this comes directly from the Sect Leader’s orders."

The Martial Ancestor’s calm expression shifted, ever so slightly.

"The Sect Leader ordered you? I find that hard to believe. I’ve heard nothing of this."

Tianling tilted his head, smirking faintly.

"Then why do you think the Sect Leader allowed our sect to descend to this lower realms in the first place?"

Silence followed. The Martial Ancestor’s gaze deepened as his divine mind spun through countless possibilities.

After a pause, he exhaled slowly.

"Then I will need your help. Use the Law of Immortality in this imaginary realm, I cannot interfere yet."

Tianling’s grin returned, impish and knowing.

"Oh, I won’t do that. You’ll handle it yourself. Besides..." he glanced toward the horizon, eyes glinting with strange light, "it won’t change anything. The future is already decided."

The Martial Ancestor’s tone sharpened.

"What did you say?"

Tianling waved a hand lazily.

"You really are hopelessly direct, old brute. Haven’t you checked the Great Divider yet?"

[A/N: The Great Divider is different from the border walls that separate the Immortal realms and Lower Realms.]

The Martial Ancestor’s eyes narrowed to slits.

A ripple of divine intent surged outward as his perception swept through layers of reality. When he finally stopped, his expression hardened.

"They’re already here," he said quietly. "The Heavenly Demons."

Tianling nodded, his tone now utterly serious.

"My estimation is that, the clash begins within a year or two."

"I have a lot of questions to ask you but, this cannot be delayed further," the Martial Ancestor said coldly, the air around him trembling.

Tianling’s smirk returned.

"Ha! I told you, you can’t have a party without me."

And with that, the Martial Ancestor, Tianling, and the three elders vanished — their presences folding out of existence like ripples fading into still water.