Destruction was a striking figure—tall and broad-shouldered, with spiky silver-gray hair that cascaded in jagged waves down his back. His bright violet eyes shimmered with controlled chaos, while his pale skin gave him a stark, ethereal presence.
Beside him stood Evil, equally commanding. His long, white hair flowed like liquid moonlight to his lower back, wild and untamed. Two obsidian horns curved from his forehead, sharp and proud. His eyes, a deep, reptilian red with vertical slits, exuded a dangerous calm, like a predator resting between hunts.
Both gods stood in silent observation, their attention fixed on the growing ripples of Asura's movements. They knew him too well. Asura wasn't the type to back down—not until he was either victorious or buried. And yet, Zhongli… was beyond them. Stronger. Far stronger.
Evil crossed his arms, his voice low. "He won't stop. You know that. Asura's obsession will drive him to self-destruction… and drag Poseidon with him."
Destruction let out a breath, eyes narrowed. "They're hypocrites. Always have been. They preach order and balance, but act in contradiction the moment it suits their pride."
The two gods exchanged a glance—silent, wary. They had tolerated Asura and Poseidon for centuries to keep the Divine Realm from splintering. Their influence, their followings, made them inconvenient to confront.
But this time was different.
Zhongli had shown no hostility. He had brought peace to chaos, power with humility. Why make an enemy of someone like that?
"We need to act," Destruction said firmly. "Asura is breaking the rules. He's an enforcer, for gods' sake."
Evil nodded. "We'll send Zhongli a message—make it clear we're not involved. If this spirals out of control, we want no part in Asura's madness."
With a flash of divine power, the two ancient gods reached across realms, threading a telepathic message through the weave of the universe. It traveled in silence, seeking only one being.
Zhongli.
The moment he received it, his smile deepened.
"These two are reasonable," he murmured. "Perhaps they're worth saving from the storm that's coming."
He turned his hand, and from within his sleeve, two ancient orbs floated free—one pulsing with the dark-red essence of Destruction, the other swirling with the pure abyss of Evil's origin."Hu Mie… Xie E…Maybe I can gift them something."
As Zhongli made the made the orbs disappear and started meditating, while his form levitated gracefully a few feet above the ground, his breathing slow and even, like the pulsing of the universe itself.
Suddenly, his eyelids fluttered open.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"So," he muttered, "the great Tang Chen has finally arrived."
The wind shifted.
Tang Chen arrived, levitating in the air.
He was a tall, powerfully built man with spiked black hair cascading to his shoulders, pale skin, and a fearless, domineering grin. Power radiated from him effortlessly—an aura of absolute confidence.
Zhongli's golden eyes narrowed as he watched the newcomer descend. He shook his head slightly.
"Did they send him here to die?" he thought.
Tang Chen had been contacted by Asura himself—far earlier than expected. Asura had offered him a chance: a boost in strength and a trial. All he had to do was kill Zhongli. Success would make Tang Chen the new heir to the God of Asura and grant him access to the divine Godhood trial.
Tang Chen, ever eager, hadn't hesitated. He didn't care who needed to die—only that it would bring him power and glory. He could become a god.
While similarly Poseidon had contacted his High Priestess Bo Saixi to help Tang Chen.
Both God's didn't believe either Tang Chen or Bo Saixi would defeat Zhongli, but they wanted to test something. It was a method of using Way of Universe, both had an idea of creating a fake son of plane and making him successor.
But Zhongli, an ancient being attuned to the subtle flow of the cosmos, sensed something deeper.
"It's not just Asura's power fueling him," Zhongli muttered. "The Way of the Universe… it's tilted in his favor too? Do they think that just because it favors humans, they can use Tang Chen to kill me?"
He snorted quietly. It was foolish—but not unprecedented. Even the Dragon God had once been brought down under the weight of the universe's will. Perhaps Asura and Poseidon thought they had found another opportunity to exploit it.
Tang Chen finally spoke, voice booming like a judgment bell:"The gods have judged you worthy of death."
Zhongli stared. He remembered this man's pride—unyielding, reckless. Tang Chen was the type to forge promises in fire and drag himself through blood to keep them. But pride often blinds wisdom. Tang Chen never waited; he acted, without thought of consequence.
Behind Tang Chen, spirit rings flared like stars gone mad. It appear as glowing, circular bands of light that float behind him—his Clear Sky Hammer already in his hand. And in the distance, Zhongli sensed another presence.
It was Poseidon's descendant, He guessed it was Bo Saixi.
Behind Tang Chen, spirit rings flared like stars gone mad—glowing, circular bands of light swirling with primal power. The legendary Clear Sky Hammer materialized in his grip, its presence alone causing the ground beneath him to tremble.
The weapon was a double-sided juggernaut of destruction.
Each hammerhead was massive, circular, and slightly convex—etched with concentric rings hinting at cataclysmic force. The edges were reinforced with dark, segmented metal bands, forged for war, not ornament. On the sides of the heads, glowing light-blue inlays shimmered—mythical patterns resembling swirling energy or celestial beasts, their light pulsing with an ancient, arcane rhythm.
Dark steel framed the inlays, aged and worn like a relic of countless battles. The connecting core between the hammerheads was no less elaborate—reinforced with jagged protrusions and trimmed with hints of gold and bronze filigree, its design both brutal and beautiful.
The shaft stretched long, crafted from lighter grey steel. The upper section was wrapped with a decorative band in a diamond pattern, while the base flared out to a sharp, angular point—serving both as counterweight and a secondary weapon.
As Tang Chen charged forward, the air cracked around him.
With a thunderous roar, he hurled the hammer down toward Zhongli, aiming to obliterate him in a single strike. Pride fueled his assault—he had ignored even Asura's warnings about Zhongli.
But the hammer stopped.
A blue, transparent force field shimmered into being, catching the blow effortlessly. The mountain beneath Zhongli didn't shake. The air didn't ripple. Zhongli didn't even raise his hands.
Tang Chen's eyes widened.
Zhongli stood unmoved, hands behind his back, a look of absolute serenity on his face.
Then, with nothing more than a flick of his finger—
Tang Chen was launched like a meteor, crashing violently into the mountainside behind. The impact sent boulders and dust erupting into the sky.
From afar, a voice cried out in panic.
"Don't hurt him!" Bo Saixi appeared, her voice clear as a bell, filled with urgency.
Zhongli turned his gaze. Bo Saixi, high priestess of the sea, hovered in the sky. Her spirit rings lit up in a flare of radiant blue.
Her sixth spirit ability: Sea Burial, activated.
A gate tore open in the air, revealing a swirling, dark vortex. The dimension within pulsed with consuming force, and the winds howled as it threatened to drag Zhongli into its abyss. A technique meant to seal away even the mightiest—if their soul power could not match the caster's.
But Zhongli merely lifted a hand.
With a casual motion, the vortex gate snapped shut like a child's toy, the dimensional seal vanishing as though it had never existed.
Bo Saixi gasped, eyes wide in disbelief.
"He dismissed it... like it was nothing?"
Zhongli looked toward her, calm and cold.
"If you throw yourselves into this, there will be no mercy."
Bo Saixi stood frozen.
She had come with doubts. The moment Poseidon gave her this task, she sensed something was off. The god's usual calm had been broken—his voice laced with restrained fury... and fear.
Now she understood why.
The man standing before her—Zhongli—was no ordinary god. He radiated an ancient, unshakable presence, as if the very heavens bowed in silence before him.
She wanted to surrender. To retreat. To speak words of caution and reason.
But before she could utter a sound—
Tang Chen returned.
Wounded but unbowed, his spirit rings blazing like wild suns behind him, he let out a battle cry that shook the skies.
He raised the Clear Sky Hammer, now surging with crimson soul power, and unleashed his ultimate self-created technique:
Clear Sky Nine Absolutes
A forbidden art—nine distinct striking methods forged to command the very essence of force.
Tang Chen launched into a fluid sequence, each blow following the next with terrifying precision:
But Zhongli barely moved.
He stood calm, his expression unreadable, as he responded with simple backhands or palm thrusts, his motions so fluid they felt like echoes of a memory.
Kōng (Void) – A palm thrust met the hammer mid-swing. The energy recoiled and vanished into mist.
Fēng (Seal) – A backhand flick. The sealing power shattered like thin glass.
Guàn (Penetrate) – The hammer shot forward, only to be gently nudged aside with a casual strike of Zhongli's palm.
Tòu (Pierce) – A precise blow aimed at his core, but Zhongli turned his shoulder, backhanding it away with the grace of a scholar brushing dust off a scroll.
Chán (Entangle) – The air warped, binding toward him—Zhongli pressed forward with a thrust, and the entanglement evaporated.
Zhèn (Shock) – The sound cracked like thunder—he met it with a light palm, and the shockwaves redirected into the sky.
Pò (Break) – A brutal overhead slam. Zhongli raised his hand—the hammer halted, inches above his crown, before he backhanded it into the ground.
Shā (Slay) – A killing arc, fast and decisive—Zhongli spun slightly, meeting it with the edge of his palm and deflecting it effortlessly.
Bēng (Collapse) – The final strike, the wrath of Tang Chen's soul unleashed—
Zhongli moved from. his place for the first time and raised his hand.
And with one effortless gesture, he caught the Clear Sky Hammer mid-swing.
A shockwave could been seen, showing how strong the blow is.
Tang Chen's eyes widened as Zhongli clenched his fingers—and the legendary weapon cracked, then shattered into fragments.
"AHHHH!" Tang Chen screamed as black veins crawled across his arms, the backlash surging into him like poison. He collapsed to his knees, clutching the remains of his spirit, broken.
Zhongli then stepped forward—one simple palm thrust to Tang Chen's chest, the force reversed with such might that Tang Chen himself was flung across the clearing, skidding across the earth, coughing blood.
Bo Saixi cried out and rushed forward, but—
Tang Chen vanished.
A flash of blood-red light marked his disappearance.
Zhongli's eyes narrowed. "Asura." The god had intervened, pulling his chosen heir from death at the last instant.
But as Bo Saixi neared Tang Chen's last position, Poseidon attempted to do the same—to retrieve his priestess.
Zhongli extended his hand and severed the divine channel, blocking the attempt effortlessly.
Bo Saixi halted mid-step, breath caught in her throat.
"You won't take her." Zhongli's voice was soft, but in it rang the weight of judgment itself.
In the Divine Realm, Poseidon sat stiffly on his throne, fists clenched, teeth grinding. Rage churned in his chest—but helplessness weighed heavier.
His once-godly body was broken. His legs had been severed, the wounds beyond even divine healing. Only an artificial limb artifact allowed him to stand, and even that only barely. His divine rank had fallen to that of a Second-Class God—a shadow of the sea's former master.
And below, Zhongli stood tall and unshaken.
On the battlefield below, Bo Saixi stared at Zhongli in a mix of awe and fear.
Then Zhongli's golden gaze fell upon her. His words were calm—but they struck like thunder.
"Why do you follow such a selfish god?" he asked."Poseidon sent you not to win—he sent you to test me. You were a tool. A sacrifice."
Bo Saixi's heart trembled. She wanted to protest."No... Lord Poseidon must have had his reasons."
But Zhongli raised his hand.
A golden sphere materialized, pulsating with divine memory. It hovered before her like a tiny sun—then gently dissolved into her mind.
And the world changed.