Alert! The Dragon Lord has emerged from seclusion!

Except for the silver flame representing Luo Yunyi, which was faint, the other six were burning steadily.

Deep within the lamplight, the faint outlines of six figures—Su Qingxue, Ye Qingcheng, Shen Qingqiu, Qin Yurou, Chu Ling'er, and Mu Qingyao—were visible. Wisps of primordial energy were being slowly drawn away and converged towards the central disc.

"The Seven Stars have returned to their positions, and the Nine Suns are the guide. This is the path I paved for you, Lin Chen." Jiang Wuyai's voice carried a strange allure.

"By fusing with the Chaos Seed and achieving the Chaos Dao Body, you have already taken one foot into the threshold of the 'Dao'. You only need to complete the final step, completely merging the Seven Star Origins with yourself, to break free from your mortal body and become an existence that transcends the rules of this world."

"Just like you?" Ye Qingcheng suddenly spoke, her voice trembling slightly with anger.

She stared intently at Jiang Wuyai. "And then? Like you, scheming against your own son for the sake of the so-called 'Great Dao,' causing the death of my father and so many innocent people?"

Jiang Wuyai turned his gaze to her, revealing for the first time a trace of genuine emotion—a very faint, almost pitying, regret.

"Ye family girl." He shook his head. "Your father, Ye Qingtian, was a rare military talent. Unfortunately, he sensed the anomaly of the Seven Star Diagram and tried to escape with you and your sisters."

"I can only let him die an 'accidental' death. As for the others..."

He paused, then said, "Heaven and earth are the furnace, and creation is the craftsman. Every change of era requires firewood."

"Their sacrifice led to the birth of a new order and the continuation of life on a larger scale."

"This is the way of Heaven."

"Bullshit Heavenly Dao!" Ye Qingcheng shouted, the Frost Soul Sword hummed, and the icy blue light on the sword body surged, the dark red pattern in it seemed to come alive, exuding a chilling killing intent.

Her injuries hadn't healed, but anger and the hatred for her father's murder overwhelmed the physical pain. "All I know is that a life for a life!"

Before she finished speaking, she had already transformed into a blur, her Frost Soul Sword, carrying burning fury, aimed straight at Jiang Wuyai's throat!

This sword strike was devoid of any frills, pushing speed and power to the extreme. Wherever the sword tip passed, the air condensed into fine ice crystals, which were then shredded by the sharp sword energy.

However, Jiang Wuyai only raised two fingers.

Gently pinch with your index and middle fingers.

Ding--

The clear, crisp sound was like the gentle tapping of a jade chime.

The Frost Soul Sword's violent momentum came to an abrupt halt.

The tip of the sword was firmly held between his fingers, no more than three inches from his throat.

No matter how much Ye Qingcheng channeled her true energy, the sword remained motionless. The Frosty Yin Sword Qi, powerful enough to freeze lakes and seas, silently melted away upon touching Jiang Wuyai's fingertips.

"Anger is proof of the weakness of the weak," Jiang Wuyai commented calmly, his fingers trembling slightly.

An irresistible force surged through the sword!

Ye Qingcheng's tiger's mouth split open, blood gushing out. The Frost Soul Sword flew out of her hand and landed diagonally in the ground some distance away with a "clang". The blade was embedded half a foot into the stone platform and continued to tremble.

She was sent flying backwards like a kite with a broken string, only to be caught by Su Qingxue, who was prepared. She took several steps back to dissipate the force, her chest heaving and her throat tasting metallic.

"Qingcheng!" Su Qingxue channeled a stream of profound Yin energy into her to help stabilize her injuries. Her icy blue eyes were fixed on Jiang Wuyai, filled with solemnity.

That scene happened too fast; she didn't even see how Jiang Wuyai made his move.

The gap between the peak of the Nascent Soul stage and the peak of the Spirit Transformation stage is indeed as vast as an insurmountable chasm.

"A futile struggle." Jiang Wuyai withdrew his hand, his fingertips not even stained with a trace of blood or frost.

He looked at Lin Chen again, as if he had only brushed away a speck of dust. "Chen'er, you are more rational than them. You should understand that this is the only way."

"The Seven Stars Returning to Their Positions Ceremony is nearing its end. Once completed, Luo Yunyi's Yao Guang Origin will be completely burned out, and the Origin of the other six will be permanently reduced by 30%, but at least they will survive."

"And if you refuse," his tone turned cold, "the ritual will be reversed, the Seven Stars' essence will go berserk, and all seven of them, along with everyone else trying to meet them outside the tower, will be annihilated by the impact of the chaotic energy."

"Are you threatening me?" Lin Chen's voice was unreadable.

"It's stating the facts," Jiang Wuyai corrected. "I'm giving you a choice, as a father, as a last act of kindness. Merge with me, take control of the new Heavenly Dao, and you can reshape the rules, and even try... to resurrect those you wish to resurrect."

"Or, watch them die."

On the altar, Luo Yunyi's soul lamp dimmed even further, its silver flame flickering as if it would go out at any moment.

The extraction speed of the remaining six soul lamps seemed to be slightly accelerating.

Time is running out.

Lin Chen closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The cold air of the Ruins rushed into my lungs, carrying the smell of blood and decay, as well as the false "purity" of the altar's light.

Countless images flashed through my mind.

Su Qingxue's aloof profile stood atop Kunlun Mountain, blocking his way.

Shen Qingqiu's focused expression as he stayed up all night researching elixirs.

Qin Yurou held the Yin-Yang jade pendant and whispered, "I believe in Lin Chen," her voice filled with both timidity and determination.

Chu Ling'er's face turned pale and her hands trembled when she sensed danger.

Mu Qingyao's bright smile as she teaches children to sing in the sunshine of Luoyue Town.

Ye Qingcheng was unruly, yet she repeatedly entrusted her back to his trust.

Amidst the star core, Luo Yunyi resolutely plunged a short blade into her heart, transforming into starlight—a scene both exquisitely beautiful and tragically tragic.

There were also the three elders of Xiaoyao Valley, Ling Feng and Bing Wei, Zhang Tianshi, Huiming Shitai, and High Priest Saru... their faces were either kind, stern, or bold.

Finally, there are the seven masters in Kunlun Heavenly Prison, their backs still straight despite their distress, and the deep expectation hidden in their eyes when they look at him.

He didn't come here alone.

"Father."

Lin Chen opened his eyes, the chaotic look in them subsided, leaving only a clear and resolute expression.

"If this is truly the path you paved for me..."

He slowly raised his right hand, palm facing upward.

Chaotic energy began to gather, and a hazy halo flowed. The illusory image of the seed, neither black nor white, reappeared, more solid than before, emitting a heart-palpitating fluctuation.

A hint of satisfaction, and a subtle, almost imperceptible complexity, flashed across Jiang Wuyai's eyes.

He nodded slightly: "A wise choice. Come here, stand in the center of the altar. With your chaotic blood as a catalyst, complete the final..."

His words came to an abrupt end.

Because the illusory image of the Chaos Seed in Lin Chen's palm did not fly towards the altar, but instead sank down and completely merged into his palm!

At the same time, Lin Chen's left hand flashed out an ancient hand seal—not from the "Mysterious Yin Manual" or the Xiaoyao Valley, but a technique he comprehended on his own when he fused with the Chaos Seed and glimpsed the birth and death of the star sea.

"In the beginning of chaos, yin and yang were separated."

"My path is neither divinely ordained, nor is it one of plunder—"

Lin Chen's voice, like a resounding bell, echoed and reverberated in the ninth level of space. Each word seemed to carry a strange weight, striking the level of rules:

"To protect, to create!"