CHAPTER 156: CH-156: BREAKING THROUGH

The Feilun Sect was quiet that night.

Lanterns still glimmered faintly along the courtyards, and faint murmurs of disciples finishing their meditation drifted in the air. But deep within the secluded mountainside chamber granted to him by the Sect Master, Tian Shen sat cross-legged, still as stone.

His breath came in long, measured draws. His qi had long since stopped flowing in a calm rhythm — instead, it churned like a storm bottled within flesh and bone. Every inhalation dragged raw spiritual essence into his meridians. Every exhalation sent sparks of golden light flickering across his skin.

The Core Reinforcement Realm—his current cultivation—was no longer stable. The core inside him throbbed violently, cracks running through its surface. He knew the signs. He was standing before a precipice, one that most cultivators hesitated to face.

The Utopian Core Realm.

A realm said to draw the eye of heaven itself, for those who dared to step into it were not merely strengthening themselves. They were attempting to forge a new foundation that could rival the sky.

Tian Shen’s hands tightened into fists.

There was no fear in his eyes—only clarity.

...

Far above the Sect, the clouds stirred.

The first bolt of lightning tore across the night sky, illuminating the sect grounds like day. Disciples gasped, rushing from their quarters. They looked upward, and their faces turned pale.

Black clouds rolled endlessly over the mountains, swallowing the moon. A golden shimmer threaded through the storm, veins of heavenly lightning pulsing with rage.

"Heavenly Tribulation..." someone whispered, trembling.

"Who dares to defy the heavens tonight!?"

The answer came almost at once. A column of light erupted from Tian Shen’s chamber, spearing into the heavens. His aura surged outward like a tidal wave, shaking the stones of the mountain.

"Scout Division Commander Tian Shen!" an elder cried.

The name rippled through the Sect like fire on dry grass.

...

Inside the chamber, Tian Shen could feel it—the gaze of heaven.

His body shook violently as his cracked core began to shatter from within. Pain lanced through every meridian, like molten steel flooding his veins. He gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face, as arcs of lightning began tearing into his flesh even before the first heavenly strike descended.

The tribulation had begun.

With a thunderous roar, a spear of lightning as thick as a tree trunk fell from the storm, crashing directly into his chamber. Stone exploded outward, protective wards shattered like paper, and the mountain itself groaned under the impact.

The disciples screamed. Elder Su immediately unfurled a talisman scroll, weaving layers of protective barriers to shield the Sect from the backlash.

"Hold the lines!" she commanded. "Do not interfere with his tribulation, but protect the Sect!"

"Yes, Elder Su!"

The Root Division rallied, channeling their qi into the barrier, teeth clenched against the unending shockwaves.

...

Tian Shen staggered to his feet within the ruins of his chamber. His spear appeared in his grip, its shaft resonating with his intent.

The first bolt had nearly reduced him to ash—his robes were in tatters, blood ran down his arms, and his core was on the brink of collapse. But his eyes blazed.

He raised his spear to the heavens.

Another bolt fell.

He thrust upward, meeting the heavenly lightning head-on. The spear hummed, absorbing his intent, splitting the bolt in two. The ground trembled, fissures opening around him.

But heaven was not appeased.

The clouds churned darker, and a cascade of lightning followed, spears of golden-white fury raining upon him in relentless succession. Each strike tore flesh, ripped muscle, burned bone. His blood hissed as it struck the stone, vaporized by the heat.

Still, he stood.

Still, he fought.

...

Feng Yin had rushed to the mountain’s edge with Little Mei, her heart trembling as she saw Tian Shen standing amid the ruin, silhouette outlined in lightning.

Her lips trembled.

"He’s... he’s being torn apart."

Little Mei’s hands clenched together, tears in her eyes. "But he’s not falling."

Elder Su’s voice reached them, harsh yet steady. "Do not despair. The tribulation is meant to kill him. If he cannot withstand it, then he does not deserve the Utopian Core Realm. But if he can..." Her eyes glinted with rare pride. "He will rise."

...

The storm shrieked.

A new power gathered above—denser, heavier, suffocating. A single bolt of lightning, larger than the rest, coalesced into the shape of a heavenly spear. Its point gleamed brighter than the sun, aimed directly at Tian Shen’s heart.

The disciples watching below felt despair creep into their bones. That strike was absolute. If it fell, Tian Shen would perish utterly.

He knew it too. His vision blurred, body swaying under the weight of wounds. His cracked core trembled violently, threatening to disintegrate.

But in that brink of death, his spirit sharpened.

He thought of his journey—the battles, the companions who had placed their trust in him, the Sect that now looked to him. He thought of Feng Yin’s eyes, steadfast even in fear. He thought of Drowsy’s silent loyalty, Ji Luan’s laughter, Little Mei’s innocent trust.

The spear in his hands pulsed, resonating with everything he had become.

Tian Shen roared.

His core shattered.

For an instant, there was nothing but void within him—emptiness so vast it threatened to swallow him whole. Then, from the fragments, light surged forth.

A new core was forming.

The Utopian Core.

Not forged by submission, but defiance. Not born of fear, but of unyielding will.

The heavenly spear fell.

Tian Shen thrust his own forward, meeting heaven’s judgment with every ounce of his being.

The world detonated.

The explosion ripped through the mountain, tearing apart stone and forest alike. The Sect’s protective formations screamed as they buckled under the force, shattering one after another. Disciples were thrown to their knees, choking on the overwhelming aura.

And then—silence.

The clouds dispersed in an instant. The night sky returned, moonlight spilling gently over the battered Sect. The storm was gone.

At the mountain’s peak, surrounded by smoking ruin, stood Tian Shen. His body was bloodied, charred, yet unbroken. His spear rested loosely in his grip.

And from his dantian, the radiant glow of a newly forged Utopian Core pulsed, flooding his body with power unlike anything he had ever known.

Gasps echoed through the Sect. Some disciples wept openly, others bowed instinctively. Even the elders looked upon him with awe.

Feng Yin ran forward, halting only when she reached the edge of the crater. Her eyes filled with relief and wonder as she whispered, "You did it."

Tian Shen turned his head, meeting her gaze. For the first time since the storm began, he smiled.

Not triumphant, not arrogant—just alive.

The heavens had tried to erase him.

He had ascended.

And now, with the Utopian Core blazing in his chest, Tian Shen was no longer merely a cultivator climbing the path.

...

The air still quivered with the residue of heaven’s wrath. The Feilun Sect’s mountainside bore fresh scars—craters, shattered wards, and smoking earth. Yet amid the destruction, a strange calm descended. The silence was almost reverent, as if the heavens themselves acknowledged the one who had survived their judgment.

Tian Shen lowered his spear slowly. His chest heaved, blood dripping from his chin, but every breath carried with it a power that seemed to ripple through the very air. His qi was no longer turbulent—it flowed with unyielding authority, vast and unrestrained, as if the mountain itself bent to his presence.

The newly formed Utopian Core thrummed within him, each pulse resonating across his body like a second heartbeat.

His wounds, though grievous, no longer threatened to break him; instead, strands of luminous qi seeped from the core, knitting torn flesh and stabilizing fractured meridians.

Elder Su approached the crater’s edge, her robes torn from shielding the Sect. For once, her sharp eyes softened.

"So it is done," she murmured. "He has taken his place among the rare few who truly defy heaven."

The disciples, still trembling from the ordeal, began to bow as one. Their voices rose hesitantly at first, then gained strength.

"Commander Tian Shen!"

"Congratulations on your ascension!"

The title echoed through the night, carrying awe, relief, and hope.

Feng Yin did not bow. She stepped forward, unmindful of the charred stones biting into her shoes. She reached him first, her hands hovering as though afraid her touch might unravel the fragile balance he had fought so hard to seize.

"You reckless fool," she whispered, though her eyes were wet. "You nearly tore yourself apart."

Tian Shen exhaled, a low laugh rumbling from his throat despite the pain. "Nearly," he admitted. His gaze softened on her, then swept over the disciples and elders who watched. "But not enough to stop me."

The heavens had judged him, and he had endured. Now, the path ahead no longer seemed narrow. It stretched wider, brighter—and far more perilous.

For though Tian Shen had risen, the thunder of his defiance would not go unheard. Beyond Feilun Sect, across distant lands and hidden strongholds, other powers would feel the tremor of his breakthrough. The heavens were silent, but men and demons would not be.

And Tian Shen knew: this was not an end.

It was the true beginning.