At first glance, it looked as if we had been teleported to the desolate foothills of a lonely mountain. There were no roads or buildings in sight. There was only a vast sea of grass that butted up against a forest somewhere off in the distance. Nearby, there were rolling hills surrounding that single, lone mountain, but these hills held nothing more than a few random trees and shrubs.

Even after having spent several decades around the urgamal, it still took me several long seconds to shake off this first impression. However, the more I looked, the more jarring the inconsistencies became.

First, exactly three figures sat atop each hill. In some places, there were three trees, while in others, there were two trees and a shrub, or two shrubs and a vine. In the distance, I even spotted a few humanoids mixed in with the plants. No matter the composition, though, each group was composed of exactly three individuals.

More troubling was that the terrain of this place didn’t make any logical sense. Instead of the foothills starting small and growing taller as they drew nearer the mountain, the opposite was true. The largest hills were those farthest from the mountain, and the smallest were those nearest.

Also, these hills didn’t reach all the way to the mountain itself. Instead, they stopped more than a hundred meters shy of it, shortly before the ground fell away to create a bowl-like depression with the mountain sitting at its center.

And, speaking of the mountain, it appeared to be nothing more than a massive mound of piled earth, with not a single blade of grass anywhere on its slopes. The only plant that called this mountain home was a small orchid that grew atop its peak.

After taking some time to absorb all of this in normal vision, I turned on energy vision, thinking that I already knew what I would find.

Enkhtuya, the bulbous flower, and I had arrived at the top of one of the taller hills, far from the mountain. The figures on the hills in front of us all possessed Ruler Tier cultivation bases, with Lords on the shortest hills and Emperors on the taller ones. The groups on hills that were of equal stature to our own had at least one Martial Sovereign, and the groups on the few hills that were taller than ours all possessed a Martial Spirit.

Finally, I turned my gaze to the mountain and the flower that grew atop it, expecting to glimpse the most powerful creature that I had ever seen. However, there was… nothing.

It wasn’t just a matter of there being no energy signatures on the mountain. The mountain didn’t exist. I could see straight through it, to the Lords and Kings atop the hills on the other side. At the center of the ring of hills, there was nothing but a shallow depression.

I opened my mouth to ask Enkhtuya about this, but before I could, five portals opened up in the stretch of land between the innermost ring of hills and the depression at its center. These portals formed a rough semicircle around the near side of the mountain, with our hill being only a few degrees away from dead center.

As an Ancestor stepped through each of these portals, leading a group of young Sovereigns and Spirits, the bulbous flower released a burst of qi as she buzzed with excitement.

Enkhtuya, we’re… we’re at the front! The elders placed us at the front! Do you know what this means? My son! He must have won their approval. Do you think he’s already been raised to Spirit? He might even be a candidate for Ancestor!

Enkhtuya flicked a small branch at the creature and sent out a tightly controlled thread of energy in her direction.

Calm yourself, Bolormaa. Let’s wait and see. Do not disrupt the ceremony.

The bulbous flower responded with a huff of qi that spread out in several directions, but she didn’t say anything else.

After depositing enough Bloodline tier urgamal to create a small forest, the portals closed, and the surroundings fell into a deathly silence. Then, a powerful buildup of wood qi emanated from deep within the core of the mountain. When this rippling energy exploded outward, my mind did its best to translate it into a deep baritone.

For the past age, I have done my best to serve Khörs in all things, doing everything that I could to see both this world and our people advance. Now, it is time for me to depart. It is time for me to ascend to what lies beyond. It is time for the next generation to step forward and lead this world to a brighter future.

To my successor, whomever you may be, I say only this:

Remember that your duty is not to this domain, the Temple, or the urgamal. Your duty is to Khörs. Your duty is to the world itself. Do all that is within your power to help this world advance. If this means assisting the humans, then assist the humans. If this means assisting the beasts, then assist the beasts. Never give or withhold aid to benefit yourself. Do it always to benefit the world. Only then may the cycle of destruction one day come to an end.

Good luck.

With these final words, the power emanating from within the mountain ceased.

Then, a fierce wind began whipping at my robes as, high in the sky, rolling black storm clouds billowed out from a point directly above the center of the mountain, not stopping until they stretched unbroken from horizon to horizon.

The clouds completely blocked out the sun, yet the land did not darken. The world remained illuminated by endless streaks of lightning that danced above us.

As I lifted my head to take in this all-too-familiar sight, a wave of energy rippled through the ground, activating a formation and encasing the foothills in a high-Rank defensive barrier. Only the mountain at their center was left undefended.

“Enkhtuya, what—”

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The air cracked, cutting me off, as a thick bolt of blue lightning shot down, aiming straight at the orchid atop the mountain.

In response, the orchid released a burst of wood qi that was so subtle I could barely detect it. This energy cut into the lightning bolt, split it apart, and grounded its remnants on either side of the mountain.

“What is this?” I finally choked out.

To ascend is to face the wrath of the Heavens.

Enkhtuya’s voice was cold and detached. A tremor in her branches revealed signs of suppressed hope and excitement, but none of this was evident in her qi flows.

One must endure as many as nine bolts of Tribulation Lightning, which come in sets of three. An Ancestor will face three yellow bolts, followed by three blue bolts, and finally, three black bolts. Empowered by Khörs, Saints are far more powerful than Ancestors, but this power comes at a cost. Their Tribulations start with bolts of blue lightning, before advancing to black and then, supposedly, red.

Just as I was about to ask another question, the power buildup within the storm clouds reached a crescendo, and the air cracked once more, as a second blue bolt shot down toward the flower atop the mountain.

This time, the lightning was nearly five times as thick as the first time.

The orchid, again, sent out a spear of wood qi to split the lightning apart and ground it harmlessly on the sides of the mountain, but this time, it was more of a struggle. The lightning didn’t break until it was only a few dozen meters from the mountain’s peak.

“Why not use a defensive formation? Why not use some form of armor? Why just sit on top of a mountain, helplessly?”

Enkhtuya took several long moments to respond, and as she did, her leaves began to droop.

Such acts would be futile. One may not use any item crafted by another during their Tribulation. This includes formations, weapons, and healing pills. To do so would anger the Heavens, inciting its full wrath against you.

Even when one uses items crafted by one’s own hand, the risks involved are still great, since the use of external tools dramatically increases the Tribulation’s power. High-Rank formations and weapons offer an advantage, but once these tools fail… Your Tribulation will come to an end.

“Thus, the need for Flower Strengthening Pills. After the pill’s energy is absorbed into one’s body, it should no longer count as an external tool.”

Enkhtuya swayed a branch in affirmation. That is the hope.

This short conversation was all the time the Heavens needed to build up for its third strike.

A bolt of blue lightning, thicker than the trunk of an ancient oak, shot from the sky.

Once again, the flower unleashed a stream of qi, hoping to split the lightning apart, but its efforts were futile. The lightning slammed down onto the flower with full force.

The flower coated itself with a thin, yet dense, membrane of energy, preventing the lightning from doing any real damage, but the anger of the Heavens was not so easily quelled. Unable to harm the flower, the lightning slammed into the mountain, arched down its slopes, and blasted away the outer layer of rock and soil.

As hurricane-force winds grabbed this loose debris and hurled it toward the spectators, the purpose of the defensive formation became clear. It wasn’t there to protect us from the lightning. It was there to protect us from the aftermath.

Jagged boulders, each of which must have weighed several tons, pounded on the barrier that surrounded us, but it was all to no avail. They were able to cause a racket, but propelled only by the initial burst of lightning, they didn’t have enough force to break through.

When the dust and debris cleared, I looked up to get my first glimpse of the Saint of Myriad Herbs in all his glory. The mountain of dirt and stone had been replaced with a 150-meter-tall mound of twisted roots, tangled branches, and endless orchids that stuck out in every direction.

As the blue light of the Heavens turned black, a brilliant white light began to radiate from within this creature, banishing the darkness.

Next to me, the bulbous flower let out a muted burst of qi.

It’s time to see if your pills will have any effect, human. With all the resources you squandered over the years, you had better hope they do.

Ignoring this barb, I kept my eyes on the sky, where a finger-width bolt of black lightning had just started making its descent. This bolt of utter darkness moved in a jagged pattern that mimicked normal lightning, but it moved at a snail’s pace, providing more than enough time for me to dread the devastation that it might cause.

In response, the glow within the Saint of Myriad Herbs grew until it was brighter than the sun. Then, the creature shot this energy into the sky.

Struck by the power of a Saint, a portion of the black lightning burned away. However, the majority maintained its ceaseless journey downward, straight to the orchid perched atop the Saint’s vast mound of vines.

When the lightning struck, it didn’t cause an explosion, and there was no burst of energy. Instead, it transformed into an all-consuming black fire that began burning the Saint from the top down, traveling along the creature's vines and branches.

The Saint used its qi to fight against these flames, but when the fire reached a third of the way down its body, the next bolt of black lightning struck—this one as thick as an arm—causing the entirety of the Saint’s massive body to burst into a black funeral pyre.

I watched in horror as both leaves and flowers shriveled to nothingness, leaving behind naught but a tangle of thin, stick-like branches. However, as energy pulsed through these branches, it repelled the fire, leaving the core of the Saint's body intact.

When that third bolt fell, the Saint of Myriad Herbs wasn’t able to offer the slightest bit of resistance. The black lightning carved into its body, incinerating everything it touched.

“Enkhtuya… Is…” I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to ask. The fires in front of me still raged, and the Tribulation clouds had yet to dissipate, but only six of nine bolts had fallen. The chances of the Saint surviving three more…

Yes, Alchemist Su. The Saint… The Saint has succeeded.

My eyes snapped up as the clouds turned blood red, and a hair-thin bolt of lightning snaked its way to the ground. The moment it struck, everything that remained of the Saint of Myriad Herbs disintegrated—nearly everything, at least.

At the center of where the mountain of vines had once stood, I caught a faint flicker of ephemeral light. That was all that remained of the Saint of Myriad Herbs. Its soul—pulled into this world by the power of a Heavenly Tribulation.

However, before I knew what was happening, the eighth and final bolt of this Tribulation fell, incinerating the Saint’s soul, reducing it to nothingness. I had never met the Saint of Myriad Herbs before, but after watching its struggle, I couldn’t help but close my eyes in sorrow, wishing things had gone differently.

Was this what everyone was talking about when they spoke of ‘ascending’? The complete destruction of one’s body and soul? Sacrificing oneself to a barrage of Heavenly lightning?

Around me, neither Enkhtuya nor the bulbous flower showed any signs of remorse. They were practically buzzing with excitement.

There, Sister. Is that it?

In the center of the Tribulation’s devastation, lingering energies from the lightning blasts began to coalesce. And, in the exact spot that had once held the Saint’s soul, this energy transformed into a tiny, faded green fire.

Enkhtuya sent a burst of qi at the bulbous flower.

Yes, Bolormaa. The tree’s leaves clacked together in a rapid rhythm. It is. The seed of a second-stage Heavenly Fire.

At the center of the Bloodline tier cultivators that surrounded the crater where this fire now burned, Elder Yargui released a wave of qi that was powerful enough to blanket the surrounding foothills.

The Saint of Myriad Herbs has ascended. May he know eternal peace within the Land of the Immortals. If any wish to accept his Final Gift and take up his mantle as their own, step forward to be judged.