The otherworldly voice echoed like a blade slicing through silence. It gazed toward the heavens with eyes that had witnessed the crumbling of empires and the rebirth of stars. There was no awe in its tone—only disdain.
"That old man dares challenge the High Heaven?"
"Foolish. He is nothing but a dancing puppet, defying a master far beyond him."
Meng Meng's breath hitched. The pressure around him was crushing. The sky hung heavy, and the very air seemed to resist existence. Still, he turned to the image.
"How can you say that… with such confidence?"
The image, wreathed in divine light, looked down and calmly spoke:
"Because… I am the one."
Meng Meng stared, confused.
"I… don't get it."
The image gave a faint smile, not warm, not cold—simply knowing.
"You will. Not now. But soon… though not too soon."
High above, Teng Xuwan hovered in defiance, his robes flaring wildly under the celestial wind. Though his body stood unbent, his soul howled in warning. Every inch of him screamed:
"Turn back. This is no path for mortals."
But arrogance overpowered fear.
Suddenly, a divine golden scripture unfurled across the sky—the First Scripture of Divine Judgment—etched with sacred, glowing runes older than creation itself. No mortal could read it, but all who saw it felt its meaning:
"You exist only because Heaven permits it."
From its center descended Heaven-Binding Chains, forged from divine law, pulsing with power that could crush the stars. They wrapped around Teng Xuwan in a storm of light and flame.
The ground cracked. The skies screamed.
But the old man roared.
His aura exploded outward like a tidal wave, and—
CRACK !
The chains shattered into countless shards of light, disintegrating like falling stars.
Teng Xuwan stood tall, eyes blazing. He lifted his hand and roared:
"First Palm… of the Void!"
A ripple of annihilation carved through the sky.
"Second Palm!"
The clouds recoiled.
"Third Palm!"
The heavens cracked.
The Three Palms of Void—techniques forbidden in ancient scrolls—were unleashed upon the divine sky… but the High Heaven did not flinch. It was like striking eternity with a blade of straw.
Then
Agony.
Pain unlike any he had ever known surged through his body. His flesh trembled. His bones groaned. His meridians twisted as if a thousand needles of law pierced them all at once.
He coughed blood. He knelt.
The image observed him in silence, then finally asked in a voice that echoed beyond time:
"New… or Original?"
The world froze.
Those words were not a question—they were a choice.
Teng Xuwan's eyes widened with fury. His pride, his power, his entire path rebelled against being questioned. In that moment, despite the searing pain, he shouted:
"NEW!!"
Lightning tore the sky open.
The image's hand moved, and from the void between dimensions appeared an object of terrifying power—the Nine Devastating Nirvana Jade.
A crystalline relic glowing with storm-like energy, pulsing with Nirvanic law.
It shot forward, faster than thought, and attached itself to Teng Xuwan's face—merging into his very being. Runes danced across his skin. His eyes turned white, burning with pure essence. His entire body was engulfed in a radiant, silver flame.
BOOM !!
The heavens trembled. Mountains across the continents crumbled from the shock. Seas rose. Worlds paused.
In that moment, every cultivator felt it:
The end point of the Nirvana Realm… had just been reached.
And Teng Xuwan stood at the summit.
No longer just a man.
Not yet a god.
But something in between
New. Untamed. Unwritten.
"This is just the beginning," the image whispered.