Journey of True Cultivation-Chapter 89: In the Palm of a God

No one... except the azure robed young man standing calmly at the lake's edge. His gaze was cold, expression unreadable, as he watched the child struggle with all his strength to stay afloat.

The screams grew fainter with each passing second, but still the child fought on, black eyes wild with desperation and the unyielding will to survive.

The only sound now was the splashing of the glowing lake, disturbed by flailing arms as the boy fought to take another breath.

The azure robed man sighed.

"What a promising child. So much potential... what a pity." His voice was calm, but there was something heavy beneath it.

"Even though he forgot who he is, that will to survive still burns bright. It was always there. Yet he's always been dancing in the palm of my hand. In the end, all he can do is struggle, nothing more. His fate was sealed the moment I saw him, the moment he was born."

With those cold words, he lifted his right arm slowly into the air, palm open toward the sky.

The heavens above the azure lake began to stir, a pressure forming, growing heavier with each passing breath.

But the child didn't notice.

He was too busy trying to breathe.

Too busy trying not to drown.

Too busy... trying to survive.

The void above the lake churned and rumbled with unnatural power.

And the azure robed young man sighed once more.

"Such high handed moves against someone who hasn't even touched the Dao... How pathetic I am." With a sigh, he let his hand fall.

The child, as if the last string holding him up had been severed, went limp, sinking powerlessly to the bottom of the azure lake.

He struggled for a time, trying desperately to rise again, to swim back to the surface. But the overwhelming pressure of the lake crushed down on him, making it impossible to move. Still, he refused to give in, until finally, consciousness slipped away.

The child now lay motionless at the bottom of the azure lake, his body peaceful, as though merely asleep. Slowly, his form began to fade, dissolving into light. In his place, a small green orb remained, its surface pulsing gently, wrapped protectively around a pure white core.

Bit by bit, the green layer faded away, dissolving just like the body before it.

Now only the small white soul core remained, resting quietly at the lake's floor, untouched, unmoving.

Watching this, the azure robed young man sighed, his eyes, those cold azure slits, closing in a moment of silence.

When he opened them again, he was no longer by the lake.

Now, he stood within an ancient pavilion.

It was grand, yet worn by time. The structure was built of gray and yellow stone, its massive pillars cracked and chipped, covered in moss and creeping vines. Countless runic carvings lined the ancient walls, faintly glowing with forgotten power.

To the side stood a crumbling stone tower, leaning as if it might fall at any moment. Near it stretched a dense forest, and beyond that, a small, serene lake of clear blue water.

The young man now wore a simple, dust covered dark green robe. With a casual wave of his hand, the dust vanished, the fabric becoming clean and pristine.

Then the true transformation began.

His black-azure eyes slowly shifted, the black receding until only pure azure remained. His round pupils narrowed into thin vertical slits, sharp and cold like those of a serpent.

His black hair faded, strand by strand, into a rich azure sheen. His face sharpened, becoming leaner, more angular, more divine.

The person who had once stood there was no more.

He had been replaced.

Now fully transformed, the azure haired youth smiled faintly to himself.

"I have finally escaped that prison cell..."

He turned his gaze to the horizon, the wind stirring his azure hair.

"Now, it's time to break free from this prison completely."

With that, he stood up and looked around, memories rushing back, eons of time spent in this cursed prison cell, trapped for over one hundred generations.

Aside from the small chair he had been sitting on, the only thing in the room was the door before him.

"It's time to leave."

He stepped forward and opened the door.

Outside, the sky was a clear blue, the warm sun shining gently above. But the moment he took his first step out of the prison pavilion, the world began to change.

The sky... began to tear apart.

Chaos descended.

The mortals, beings born from the divine powers sealed within this world, trembled. Endless beings died instantly, unable to endure even a glimpse of the sky's unraveling.

Peace was shattered in a single heartbeat, replaced by calamity.

But the world's collapse didn't stop there.

It grew worse.

From the torn heavens descended eleven massive shadows, their forms wreathed in mystery. Each one was bound in glowing chains, chains of different colors. Some bore more chains than others, but none of that mattered now.

They had come for only one reason.

To look upon the face they all knew too well.

One of the shadows, the one bound in glowing blue chains, gazed directly at the dark green robed young man and growled.

"Truth... you dare break free? You know full well that with your escape, the rest of us will never be able to leave!"

Truth, the name echoed like thunder.

The dark green robed man, now standing beneath the torn sky, turned toward the blue chained shadow. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, his expression calm, almost mocking.

"Oh, Blood... You always knew I would try to escape. You just didn't believe I could succeed."

He spread his arms wide, as if embracing the ruined sky.

"If the eleven of you had come to stop me just a few hundred years earlier, you might have stood a chance. But now... now it's too late."

His smile widened, eyes gleaming.

"I have escaped. I may have lost parts of my cultivation in the process, but I am free now. Free to this bastards rules and i can even cultivate once more... and perhaps, this time, even transcend the chaos itself and reach the next realm."

"Truth, you dare to leave, thinking about the next Realm? Who allowed you to even think about this! Courting death!"

An enraged female voice erupted from the yellow chained shadow. With her voice alone, the world began to tremble, mountains split, valleys collapsed, and new landscapes were born beneath the weight of her fury.

But before her destructive force could escalate further, the purple chains wrapped around her began to glow, suppressing her power.

"Courting death?" Truth scoffed. "Desire, how do you plan to kill me? Yes, you could end me with a mere thought, if you could. But you can't. I am now protected by his laws... thanks to this body I've claimed."

His words were calm, yet laced with confidence. But before he could continue, the eleven chained shadows began to laugh.

Truth's eyes narrowed in surprise. Their laughter wasn't mocking, it was cold, resolute. Something was wrong.

Despite his growing unease, he didn't believe they could do anything to him. After all, of the twelve imprisoned divine souls, he was the most knowledgeable when it came to the rules and laws of this prison.

The laughter slowly faded.

Then, the gray chained shadow spoke. Unlike the others, his shadow formed the faint outline of a mouth, curled into a smirk.

"Truth... did you really think we'd do nothing? Do you take us for fools? We knew we were too late to stop your escape. But now... you've offended us all. Even the fanatical Swordsman and that arrogant, racist Spirit Queen."

The white chained shadow, the so called Swordsman, snorted but said nothing. The red chained shadow, the Spirit Queen, narrowed her eyes at the insult but also remained silent. Their patience had thinned. All they wanted now was for this matter to be ended... swiftly.

"Oh? And what have you planned, Seer?" Truth asked, his expression unreadable.

But inwardly, he had already begun ascending toward the next realm. He had just broken free of the Mortal Ascension Realm, and now stood on the cusp of a higher cultivation realm. Yet he needed more time, just a little more time. And for that, he needed to stall.

"Oh, Truth," the Seer replied coldly, his voice like still water hiding a deep undertow. "It seems you wish to buy time. But even without our Daos being suppressed, we can still see through such a simple scheme."

A chilling silence fell.

"Regardless," the Seer continued, "today is the day the Grand Schemer of Chaos falls. With your Dao Soul, we can lessen the weight of our chains, perhaps even escape this prison in three more epochs. So die now."

The Seer's voice echoed like the tolling of a death bell.

Without hesitation, the eleven chained shadows released their imprisoned Daos. Their power burst forth, even as their chains tightened further around them. Sparks of divinity and ancient force tore through the skies, sacrifices willingly made for a single outcome, to end Truth.

Yet Truth remained calm.

He raised his arm, and from within him surged his own Dao, the Dao of Truth and False.

"What I believe is truth, becomes truth. What I believe is false, becomes false."

As he spoke, his slit shaped azure eyes began to glow fiercely, radiating with pure Dao power. The once clear sky turned kaleidoscopic, painted with twelve distinct colors, each one representing the unleashed Dao of a chained gods.

But eleven of those colors converged into a single force, directed straight at one figure, soaring high above them, wrapped in an azure aura.

Truth.

The heaven and earth began to tremble. The earth shacking, thy sky tearing.

And the mortals were confused.

The mortals could only watch in terror and awe, unable to comprehend what was happening. They didn't know who these beings were. They didn't understand the war that now raged in the sky.

They only hoped, prayed, that they would survive the calamity that had descended upon their world.