Ascension of The Unholy Immortal

Chapter 439: A Shift in the Destiny

It was said that those who reached this realm shone so brightly that even the stars would avert their gaze. Yet few ever walked this far, for the Path itself demanded a price most could never pay

Wu Jiang’s frown deepened. For the first time in countless years, he could not clearly see the end of another’s road.

The Gate of Silence

An endless stillness lingered within the gray mist.

Kai sat cross-legged, unmoving, as though carved from stone. Countless illusory scenes had risen and fallen before his eyes, yet his heart no longer wavered.

When the final question dissolved into silence, the mist itself began to unravel. What was once suffocating fog grew thin and translucent, retreating like a tide.

A faint radiance flickered between Kai’s brows. It was neither qi nor soul force, but something deeper. A formless flame kindled within his chest, spreading slowly through his meridians and flesh. It was not hot, nor did it burn, yet wherever it passed, both body and spirit grew impossibly sharp—like a blade newly drawn from the whetstone.

Kai opened his eyes.

The gray world fractured soundlessly, and his figure vanished.

---

Outside the Martial Gate

Wu Jiang’s brows twitched as the ancient stone gate shuddered. A muffled roar spread through the mountain, and a streak of pale light shot forth.

Kai stepped out. His robe was in tatters, his hair disheveled, yet his eyes were steady. With each breath, the surrounding spiritual qi trembled faintly, as though compelled to answer.

Wu Jiang’s gaze deepened.

"...Flame-Will."

This boy, who had entered the gates not long ago with a foundation barely stable, had now walked through fire, thunder, and silence—only to emerge having already tempered his martial soul into flame.

It was absurd. Even in the distant past, few records spoke of anyone advancing to this height so swiftly.

The aura around Kai was strange. It carried no pressure of heaven and earth, no trace of law. Yet every step he took seemed to carve a mark into space itself, as though his will alone was enough to leave behind a scar.

Wu Jiang’s thoughts churned.

The Martial Path is a road of burning. Every step forward shortens the years of one’s life. Yet this child has already reached the point where soul and flame are one...

Kai stopped before him and bowed slightly. His movements were calm, without flourish.

"I have returned," he said simply.

Wu Jiang studied him for a long time before raising his sleeve. A thread of light emerged, warm yet weighty, carrying the aura of destiny itself.

"This is a fragment of my Martial Origin. Since you have passed the three gates, it is yours."

The light sank into Kai’s chest. His aura flickered once, then stabilized, sharper than before. A faint ripple spread across the heavens, quickly fading into silence.

Wu Jiang withdrew his hand. His expression was unreadable, though a trace of surprise lingered in the depths of his eyes.

At that moment, in a distant corner of the Domain.

The Dong Clan’s ancestral plaza was crowded that day. Scarlet banners hung from every beam and archway, swaying lightly in the breeze, while lanterns of various sizes burned with steady light, casting the place in a festive glow. Incense curled up from tall bronze censers, filling the air with a faint sweet fragrance.

A deep horn sounded, and the guests looked up. From beyond the clouds, a streak of light gradually descended.

A chariot pulled by a dragon and a phoenix spirit appeared, its radiance reflecting in the eyes of all present. The dragon coiled in stately arcs, scales glinting with cold light, while the phoenix’s tail feathers shed faint sparks everywhere.

On the chariot stood the bride and groom.

Dong Rou wore a crimson bridal robe stitched with golden clouds. A thin silk veil covered her face, leaving only the outline of her features visible. Even so, her bearing was graceful, every movement steady and proper.

Liang stood beside her in plain ceremonial white. His expression was calm, and the corners of his mouth carried a measured smile. On the surface, he appeared composed, as though prepared for this moment.

Yet, as the chariot drew closer to the plaza, his gaze shifted.

For an instant, he did not seem to be looking at the crowd below, nor at the veiled figure beside him. His eyes wandered past them, unfocused, as though drawn to some distant point in the void itself. The smile on his lips faltered ever so slightly. A faint shadow flickered within his pupils, there and gone in the blink of an eye.

"Strange... there’s a shift?" Liang’s expression darkened slightly. What sort of chance did Kai seize to suddenly tilt the balance in his favor?

The Thousand Derivation Rune had been with him for many years. By now, he kept it activated at all times, though only a small cycle of derivations lingered about his body to avoid needless strain. Even so, its connection to heaven and earth was constant. A moment ago, that thread had quivered. He clearly felt the favor of heaven tilt—away from him, toward Kai.

Liang’s grasp of the Heaven Severing Mortal Unity Scripture was far deeper than Kai’s, aided by the rune’s inexhaustible calculations. Until now, he had been certain of victory. But at this instant... he could no longer be sure.

Kai had clearly gained a great opportunity—along with karmic fortune and even a measure of Fate Aura.

"Is something the matter?" Dong Rui’s eyes flickered as she noticed the change in his face.

Liang’s thoughts stirred, then sank back into silence. For now, only one matter was important—securing the support of the Dong Clan. With that in hand, Kai would have no path forward. He shook his head lightly. "Nothing. I was only wondering how many guests will be attending today."

Dong Rui’s lips curved into a smile. "Quite a number. Many powerful figures will come. It will be an excellent chance for you to broaden your connections."

"My connections?" Liang gave her a strange look.

She nodded. "Even with the Divine Spirit Palace behind you, this domain hides other forces. Factions that wield strength no less than the so-called great sects."

Liang inclined his head. "And many of them will be present here."

"That’s right," she said softly. "The four great factions and the realm lords may be famous across the domain, but their roles are merely administrative. The true powers remain hidden in their own secret realms, detached from worldly matters."

Liang showed little surprise, though his eyes flickered slightly.

"They rarely appear," Dong Rui continued. "Most often only when great competitions are held, when new secret realms open, or when supreme treasures surface. But... an occasion like today can also draw them out."

Liang nodded slowly. "I’ve heard rumors. Why don’t you name them?"

Dong Rui leaned a little closer, her voice turning faint. "The Duan Clan comes first. Ancient, reclusive, their bloodline allows them to borrow strength directly from heaven and earth. Their patriarch has not shown himself in more than a century."

Liang’s eyes narrowed. "A clan like that has no need to flaunt its strength. Who else?"

"The Qiu Sect," she said with a trace of caution. "Masters of venom. Even Void Return elders tread carefully around them. A single mistake, and both body and soul would rot."

Liang’s brow twitched, but he remained silent.

"Then there is the Shen Clan," Dong Rui went on. "Body refiners, every one of them. Each generation produces a martial giant whose fists can shake the earth."

Liang let out a low hum. "A troublesome foe to meet head on."

"The Lei Family as well," she added. "They appear as merchants, but their trade routes and wealth rival sects in scope. Spirit stones are their sharpest weapon."

Liang’s eyes grew thoughtful. "Influence born of coin can topple even fortresses."

"Indeed. Next, the Twilight Valley Sect. Their cultivation is... unorthodox. Infamous for dual cultivation, it is said they harbor not one but two late-stage Void Return experts."

A flicker of surprise crossed Liang’s face. He gestured for her to go on.

"The Verdant Shadow Sect," she said with a strange note. "Most of their members are plant demons or spirits. To encounter one of them in the wild is exceedingly rare."

Liang’s gaze sharpened. It was his first time hearing such a name.

"The Rain-Mist Pavilion," Dong Rui continued, her tone soft as fog. "Their arts lie in mist and illusion. Rumor has it their pavilion master exists halfway between form and void. To face them is to question whether what you see—or even what you are—is real."

Liang’s eyes narrowed. "Illusions that bind even the soul?"

"Precisely. Few emerge from their grasp with certainty intact."

She lowered her voice further. "Then comes the Ink Spirit Cave. They are neither clan nor sect. Their disciples cultivate through parasitic spirits born of ancient ink relics. Once marked, an enemy can be rewritten like a word on paper. Some says their cave master can turn a living man into a painting with a single stroke."

Liang’s lips curved faintly. "So, all these factions, hidden in their own secret realms, have chosen to send their eyes to this wedding."

Dong Rui’s smile was faint, her eyes unreadable. "Exactly. They rarely stir. But now... they are here."

Liang’s face remained still, but deep within his eyes a plan is quietly forming.