Inside the Primordial Titan's skull, Shi Feng fell.
There was no sensation of speed, no rush of wind, no sense of distance. One moment he was leaping into darkness, the next he stood upon solid ground.
Yet this ground was not stone.
It was a vast platform formed of interlocking golden runes, each sigil ancient beyond comprehension. They pulsed softly beneath his feet, radiating a power that made his bones ache and his blood hum. The air itself vibrated, saturated with qi so dense it pressed against his skin like an invisible tide.
Above him stretched not a ceiling, but a boundless void filled with drifting constellations. Each star burned with a different hue, some flickering violently, others dim and fading, as though reflecting the rise and fall of forgotten lives.
Shi Feng swallowed hard.
This was no simple inheritance hall.
This was a remnant of an era when cultivation had not yet been caged by realms and limits.
A voice thundered through the void, vast and unrestrained, carrying the authority of battlefields that had devoured worlds.
"So. Another mortal has come seeking strength."
The platform trembled.
Shi Feng spun around, instinctively summoning his warhammer. Golden light gathered before him, condensing into a towering phantom. It stood clad in ancient armor scarred by countless battles, its form immense, yet refined by discipline rather than brute size.
In its hands rested a long spear.
The weapon radiated a pressure so sharp it seemed capable of piercing thought itself. Lightning danced along its length, not wild or chaotic, but disciplined, contained, as if entire storms had been bound into its metal.
Shi Feng's breath caught in his throat.
"Spear Emperor…" he whispered.
The phantom inclined its head slightly.
"You know my name. That alone proves you are not ignorant."
The void shifted, and memories poured into Shi Feng's mind without warning.
He saw a battlefield that stretched beyond the horizon. Not one battlefield, but many layered atop one another, separated by time yet bound by blood. Armies clashed beneath skies torn open by divine techniques. Cultivators wielding laws fought beasts that towered like mountains. Spears pierced dragons. Titans fell screaming into seas of fire.
At the center of it all stood the Spear Emperor.
Not as a ruler on a throne, but as a warrior walking calmly through annihilation. Each thrust of his spear rewrote the battlefield. Each step crushed destiny beneath his feet.
Shi Feng staggered as the vision shifted again.
He saw the fallen beast.
A creature vast beyond reason, its body spanning valleys, its roar fracturing continents. It was not merely powerful. It was ancient. Older than kingdoms. Older than emperors. Its existence alone warped the laws of heaven and earth.
The Spear Emperor stood before it, alone.
No army behind him.
No sect banners.
Only a spear and unyielding will.
Their clash shattered the sky.
Shi Feng felt the recoil in his own bones as the phantom spear thrust forward. Space folded. Time cracked. The beast's hide split, blood raining like crimson meteors. Yet the creature did not fall easily. It struck back, and the impact obliterated entire realms caught in the periphery.
This was the battle that had ended an age.
This was why the Divine Emperor's realm had fallen.
This was why continents were sealed and oceans divided.
The memory crystal embedded within the skull pulsed, and Shi Feng gasped as the vision ended.
The phantom's voice returned, calmer now, heavier.
"Power is not inherited by those who kneel," it said. "It is seized by those who endure."
The golden platform reshaped itself. Runes rose, forming a vast arena.
"Show me your will."
The spear moved.
There was no warning.
The first thrust tore the arena apart. Shi Feng hurled himself aside as the space he had occupied collapsed into nothingness. Before he could regain his footing, a second strike descended, the pressure crushing his limbs, driving him to one knee.
His arms screamed in protest. His bones groaned. His warhammer felt unbearably heavy.
Yet he did not release it.
Again and again the spear descended. Each strike was precise, merciless, absolute. Shi Feng was driven back, battered, his meridians flaring painfully as he forced qi through pathways never meant to bear such strain.
Blood filled his mouth.
Still, he stood.
Something ignited within him.
Not talent.
Not ambition.
But stubborn refusal.
His roar echoed across the void.
"If you want to see my will," he shouted, voice cracking with fury, "then watch closely!"
He charged.
Every step tore flesh. Every swing drained his spirit. Yet with each impact, something within his dantian burned brighter. A flame forged not by technique, but by defiance.
The phantom's spear met his warhammer.
The collision sent a shockwave through the void.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Then, with a sound like shattering heaven, the spear fractured.
The phantom froze.
Then it laughed.
A deep, resonant sound, filled not with mockery, but approval.
"Good," it said. "Very good."
Golden fragments erupted, swirling around Shi Feng like a storm. They plunged into his body, flooding his meridians with thunderous qi. His muscles convulsed. His vision blurred.
CRACK.
A chain within him snapped.
CRACK.
Another layer of limitation shattered.
Then the world exploded.
BOOM.
Shi Feng screamed as power surged through him, tearing down walls he had never known existed. His aura erupted, blasting apart the arena, shaking the Titan's skull to its core.
Outside, the marsh convulsed.
A pillar of golden light pierced the fog, spiraling into the heavens. Bones rattled. Rivers reversed their flow. Ancient resentments stirred uneasily.
Yang Jian staggered back, eyes wide.
"He's ascending."
Lan Yuer clutched her chest.
"He's breaking his shackles."
Wang Qiu stared at the phenomenon, his talismans burning away one by one.
"Fate is shifting."
Within the skull, Shi Feng burst free, laughter tearing from his throat as he emerged in a storm of qi.
"I did it!"
His aura stabilized, vast and refined.
Peak Spirit Shattering.
Hope stirred among the group.
"With his strength," Yang Jian said, "we might stand a chance."
But the Blood Demon did not smile.
He watched Shi Feng with an expression that had not changed, yet beneath it, calculations churned.
Too fast.
Too much.
This inheritance was not meant to be claimed so cleanly.
The marsh responded.
A cough echoed across the land, vast and terrible. The crimson fog darkened, thickening into blackness. Bones trembled beneath their feet.
A voice filled the air, ancient and devoid of emotion.
"One inheritance has been claimed."
"The chosen must depart."
"Remain, and be culled by the Law."
Shi Feng's grin vanished.
"What do you mean depart?"
The fog surged.
"Leave," the voice repeated. "Or die."
Black tendrils of Law erupted, sharp enough to sever soul from flesh. Shi Feng felt his cultivation tremble, his newfound strength meaningless before this absolute decree.
Yang Jian drew his blade.
Lan Yuer screamed.
Wang Qiu's talismans shattered.
Even the Blood Demon stepped back.
Shi Feng ran.
The Law chased him like a divine executioner, tearing apart space behind him. At the marsh's edge, the fog surged forward and hurled him out with irresistible force.
Then silence returned.
The Law receded.
The Blood Demon exhaled slowly.
"One inheritance has fallen," he murmured.
"Three remain."
He turned his gaze to the others, eyes glinting with something close to unease.
They were growing stronger.
And that was dangerous.