> “Skyscrapers rise from flat ground. Congratulations, Host—Qi Refining Fifth Layer.
> Rewards: Phoenix Plu Swords ×3 · Random Spirit Plant Seed ×1 · Avatar Fruit ×1.”
> “Fifth Layer unlocked: Spirit Qi projection range expanded · Passive recovery boosted (Qi, soul, body) · Offensive Art: Stele-Suppressing Palm.”
The system babbled like a kid who’d just escaped the principal’s office.
Lu reclined against the Thousand-Blade Chair, half-listening.
His mind was elsewhere—on the sudden clarity behind his eyes, on the way one strand of new Qi now weighed as much as ten old ones.
He curled a fist.
Air folded like paper, space dented translucent.
Raw flesh alone matched his forr blood-empowered peak.
He exhaled a needle-thin strand.
It hung before him—heavy rcury, humming with ruin.
One flick and the void moaned.
“Strong,” he tasted the word, grinning.
If the High Martial Buddha showed up now, a single strand would pin its will to the floor.
Rewards? Routine.
Phoenix Plu Swords—now eight.
He summoned them.
Eight crimson streaks overlapped mid-heaven, phoenix cries shaking clouds, until they locked into a single broken blade—two feet eight inches, tip missing.
One or two more and the set would be whole.
The half-sword thrumd; space tore like silk at its edge.
Earth-tier, easy.
He flicked the blade.
It sang, fla-forged, then slid ho into the chair’s armrests—silver chair now ribboned with living scarlet.
Next, the seed.
One lonely pine cone, glassy, pulsing.
He brushed the island.
A mountain erupted beneath White Jade Capital—raw, bald, ugly.
Sky-Reaching Chrysanthemums shrank.
Blue Luan Peaches blushed and folded.
“Share the dirt,” Lu said.
Flowers bobbed.
Peach petals unfurled—yes, sir.
The pine cone arced, buried itself halfway up the slope.
Grass raced outward, wildflowers blood, the island exhaled green.
A tender pine twisted skyward, claiming the hillside in hours.
Lu flashed beneath it, conjured a stone go board, laid out the River-and-Mountains Ga, then left the last stone hovering—unfinished, eternal.
Lake-Heart Island was alive.
Only then did he weigh the final prize.
Avatar Fruit: High Martial wonder.
Born beneath the Ten-Thousand-Year Treasure Tree.
One bite—one real second self.
Independent will, separate fate, another lifeti of cultivation.
The fruit looked like a sleeping infant carved from dawn.
Lu heard phantom giggles.
“Finally, a jackpot.”
…
Tianyuan Continent, Demon Domain—once glorious, now ossuary.
Lion Demon King sat on sun-bleached rock, ribs showing, mane dull.
Behind him, great demons reduced to house-cat size.
Heaven Demon Pagoda—cracked, ordinary, empty.
He shuffled inside, chains crumbling to rust.
Lay on cold stone.
Alone.
mories of chasing humans across skies.
Laughter.
Roars.
Soon he’d devolve into a regular lion and be eaten by wolves.
A breeze stirred dead fur.
Human Qi!
He bolted upright, eyes blazing.
Above—starless black—a continent the size of heaven itself descended, slow, inevitable.
A bald monk in vermilion robes stepped off the edge, smiling kindly, golden staff chiming.
“Amitabha.
A withered world, yet one old lion clings to life.
Good karma.
Be my mount.”
Lion Demon King roared, emaciated fra exploding with leftover pride.
“Shove your karma, bald donkey!
Your kind ruined !”
He lunged.
The staff fell.
Crack—skull split, blood painted the monk’s grin.
Golden rings sang, bound the lion, dragged him skyward.
The wandering continent rolled on, crushing lesser worlds like bubbles.
…
Lake-Heart Island.
Lu sipped plum wine, wind teasing white sleeves.
Ti to vanish White Jade Capital.
Key asset: one cowardly whale.
He glanced at Zhu Long and Little Yinglong ditating below, at the four Infant Transformation cultivators tiptoeing onto the island like guilty cats.
Ignored them.
Closed his eyes.
Thirty thousand ters down, East Sea.
The leviathan hugged darkness, pretending to sleep.
Human call? What call?
Lu smiled—gentle, terrifying.
Fingers tapped the armrest.
Eight phoenix swords shot eastward.
BOOM!
A mountain of water exploded.
A continent-sized whale breached, tail wagging like a golden retriever, rocketing inland.
Joyful song echoed for a thousand li.
Only the eight crimson swords kissing its belly kept the smile honest.
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