The Hardest Trial

The Hardest Trial . . .

In a realm where the forces of darkness held dominion, a chilling silence descended as the demonic bird, known as Qing'er, met its final fate. It had sprung forth from the very abyss of nothingness, an embodiment of terror itself. Its malevolent strength seemed to transcend the ages, harkening back to a time when primordial chaos reigned, capable of effortlessly annihilating even the mightiest of ascendants. The lethal miasma it exuded soared high into the heavens, leaving no doubt about the impenetrable fortitude of its corporeal form. Yet, against all odds, Qin Wentian had managed to cleave this monstrosity in twain, a testament to his burgeoning might.

At this pivotal moment, Qin Wentian's hands assumed the form of a majestic wind roc, its talons poised to rend with a crushing force that gleamed ominously with a blood-red radiance, a manifestation of his demonic energy surging forth in relentless waves, threatening to obliterate everything in its path. Esoteric runes, etched in an arcane script, adorned his talons, conferring upon him an unimaginable power. In his current state, even a single palm strike could shatter ordinary peak-level ascendants, and those deemed "normal-tier" geniuses would crumble before him like fragile porcelain.

A fleeting glimmer ahead heralded the emergence of another astral gate, shimmering like a beacon of hope on the Ancient Path of Stars, a celestial avenue that reached ever upward, aspiring to the heavens themselves.

Qin Wentian's eyes sparkled with determination, his resolve unwavering. He did not hesitate but advanced boldly toward the gate. After all, encountering a divine ruin of this magnitude demanded exploration to its fullest extent. If he were deemed insufficient and expelled from this ancient path, he would harbor no regrets or grievances. However, if he lacked the courage to press forward, what purpose lay in his pursuit of the pinnacle of cultivation?

Guided by the Ancient Path of Stars, Qin Wentian traversed the astral gate and materialized in yet another ethereal realm. High above, an ancient demon, resembling a colossal ape, awaited his arrival with an aura of malevolence that hung heavily in the air. Clutching a massive cudgel, it exuded a profound intent to slaughter, capable of sweeping all before it in the boundless expanse of heavens and earth.

Without hesitation, the ancient demon brought its cudgel crashing down precisely where Qin Wentian stood. The sheer force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the very fabric of space, creating a tumultuous tempest that threatened to tear apart reality itself. Mountains would shatter like fragile glass before the cataclysmic force of the cudgel's descent, a power that even Qin Wentian, amidst the gathering of the City of Ancient Emperors' most exceptional talents, believed no one could withstand.

A tumultuous symphony of thunderous roars and resonating echoes filled the air as Qin Wentian's form underwent a staggering transformation, surging upward to reach a colossal height of 100 meters, mirroring the imposing stature of his formidable adversary. His very essence, imbued with boundless astral energy, underwent a metamorphosis, transmuting into the majestic energy of the mountains themselves. With an air of unwavering determination, he thrust forth his outstretched palm, a conduit for the pure, white radiance that flowed through his bloodline. A deafening, cataclysmic explosion reverberated through the cosmos, heralding the birth of ancient mountains that materialized in the heavens above, their sheer presence casting an oppressive shadow over all that lay below. The overwhelming force of their presence radiated outward, an unyielding dominion that threatened to sunder the very fabric of reality.

In that awe-inspiring moment, the Suppression Constellation emblazoned across Qin Wentian's form radiated with an ethereal brilliance, its divine aura cascading down upon him. It was as if a godly entity now perched upon his shoulders, its golden phalanx descending from the celestial realms like a relentless rain of judgment, each figure an embodiment of boundless suppression. The demonic ape, infuriated by this celestial assault, swung its colossal cudgel with a frenzy that defied reason. Yet, the golden avatars of suppression descended without respite, each one detonating in a cascade of celestial force.

Simultaneously, Qin Wentian unleashed a titanic palm imprint, a force so profound that it threatened to obliterate the very sun, moon, and stars, a cataclysmic maelstrom that sought to consume all existence.

"ROAR!" The heavens themselves quaked in response to the beastly bellow, a sonic tempest that reverberated through the cosmos, shaking the very foundations of reality. The colossal palm, despite its deafening impact, merely succeeded in wounding the demonic ape. However, Qin Wentian's expression remained steadfast, an unwavering resolve etched upon his visage. With the sudden emergence of wind roc wings, he propelled himself forward, a spectral wraith of vengeance unleashed. A relentless barrage of palm strikes rained down upon the beleaguered ape, its agonized cries punctuating each thunderous impact. And then, in a final, earth-shattering explosion, Qin Wentian shattered the beast's corporeal form into a swirling void of oblivion.

Once more, the Ancient Path of Stars materialized before him, its astral gate beckoning with tantalizing promise. Qin Wentian's eyes, ablaze with lightning-like intensity, bore witness to the gateway, and without hesitation, he ventured through. His heart burned with an insatiable curiosity, yearning to unravel the myriad trials this celestial path had yet to unveil, obstacles waiting to challenge his relentless pursuit of ascendancy.

Time and again, Qin Wentian engaged in visceral combat, confronting the most formidable primordial demonic beasts that this cosmos had ever birthed. With each successive gate, these creatures surged in might and ferocity, becoming incarnations of unyielding tenacity. Only through the invocation of his God's Hand could Qin Wentian prevail, each clash pushing him to the very limits of his power.

This grueling odyssey repeated itself a total of eight times, a relentless crucible that tempered his mettle and honed his skills to razor-sharp precision. Undaunted, he entered another illusory realm for the ninth time, poised to face the imminent emergence of the next desolate beast, his unwavering resolve a beacon guiding him through the trials that lay ahead.

Amidst the relentless trials of the Ancient Path of Stars, a deep sigh escaped Qin Wentian's lips. The weight of this challenge pressed upon him, and he couldn't help but wonder how many souls across the vast expanse of the immortal realms could truly conquer it. If even an illustrious figure, an immortal king or emperor, were to embark upon this celestial journey, what manner of desolate beast would emerge to thwart their advance? The sheer terror of that prospect sent shivers down his spine.

In the boundless expanse of the illusory sky, a sinister glint materialized, heralding the malevolent presence of a desolate beast. Its baleful aura descended like an ominous storm, while dread-inducing runes descended with the speed of lightning. An overwhelming, annihilative force washed over Qin Wentian, casting a pall of impending doom upon him.

Nine, the number of ultimate significance, loomed large in this pivotal moment. This, the ninth trial, seemed to portend the culmination of his journey through the Ancient Path of Stars. If indeed this marked the culmination, what unfathomable trials awaited him?

The impending cataclysm bore down upon him with unrelenting intensity, prompting Qin Wentian to steel his resolve. Every ounce of energy within him surged as he invoked the mighty power of the God's Hand. In this transformative instant, his colossal form emitted a thunderous resonance, as if he had become a monstrous desolate beast, a celestial entity capable of unsettling the very heavens.

Tilting his head skyward, he beheld a crimson hue that now blanketed the heavens, a portentous omen of impending tribulation. Destructive lightning bolts lanced downward with relentless fury, culminating in the emergence of a swirling vortex, a portal to an ancient primordial era whence a desolate demonic beast was destined to emerge.

Golden radiance showered down, carrying an aura of unparalleled menace that enveloped Qin Wentian entirely. Before his eyes, an immense shadow streaked through the firmament like a golden lightning bolt, materializing right before him with blinding swiftness, an entity whose movements transcended the limits of human perception.

Its velocity, an embodiment of sheer velocity itself, left Qin Wentian with no option but to instinctively unleash the might of the God's Hand. In a heart-stopping collision, the resounding impact sent him hurtling through the ethereal expanse, a muffled groan escaping his lips. As he grappled with the searing pain, he realized that his God's Hand stood on the precipice of shattering, and a chilling realization gripped him. Another brilliant flash of light heralded the relentless charge of the supreme primordial demon, an entity so swift that Qin Wentian scarcely had time to fathom its movements.

In a climactic burst of determination, Qin Wentian's voice resonated with the fury of a tempest as he summoned forth the wellspring of his boundless strength. Like a living comet streaking through the heavens, he unleashed the full might of his God's Hand, a radiant manifestation shimmering with a pure-white luminescence, its brilliance akin to the dancing flames of a candle. The very firmament shuddered as his resounding roar heralded another cataclysmic clash, propelling him through the ethereal expanse once more. However, this time, an intriguing twist of fate forced that supremely potent greater demon to share in his forced retreat. Suspended in the heavens, the creature's form emerged from the mists of obscurity, finally granting Qin Wentian a crystal-clear glimpse of its awe-inspiring visage.

Cast entirely in gleaming gold, its body exuded a resplendent, pure-gold radiance that dazzled the senses. Majestic wings, adorned with the gilded splendor of a thousand suns, possessed feathers sharper than the keenest of swords, poised to rend asunder all that dared to cross their path. Even the simple act of hovering in mid-air seemed to birth a tempest of unrivaled fury, the very air surging with the cutting precision of countless blades.

Yet, amid this golden brilliance, its eyes stood as pools of unfathomable darkness, profound and soul-stirring. An ominous balefulness emanated from its being, coiling upwards like a malevolent serpent, an unmistakable sign of its raw power.

"Golden-Winged Great Roc!" Qin Wentian's heart pounded with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The Golden-Winged Great Roc, among all roc species, stood as the pinnacle of power. While Qin Wentian had honed his skills through the cultivation of wind roc techniques, those were but a faint echo of the majesty inherent to a true roc. Even so, the might they conferred was formidable, offering a tantalizing glimpse into the grandeur of the genuine article.

Before him now soared none other than a Golden-Winged Great Roc, its lineage pure and unsullied, a vessel of divine heritage and unfettered might.

Qin Wentian's constellations blazed with an incandescent luminosity, the aura of supremacy bearing down upon his adversary. Yet, the Golden-Winged Great Roc, undaunted, radiated powerful golden beams that enshrouded itself, effortlessly dissipating the crushing pressure. Its baleful eyes remained unflinching, and even an attack of a caliber capable of annihilating peak-level ascendants proved ineffectual.

Within the cold, unyielding gaze of the golden-winged roc, glints of predatory intent shot forth like deadly arrows. In a relentless surge of motion, its wings sliced through the heavens with a swishing sound, their terrifying golden luminescence cleaving through the very fabric of reality. Qin Wentian, ever resourceful, thrust himself into a frenetic retreat while simultaneously unleashing the fury of his God's Hand, a desperate gambit to stave off the relentless onslaught of the roc's ferocious strikes.

In a heartbeat, the Golden-Winged Great Roc underwent a dazzling metamorphosis, its majestic form dissolving into a whirlwind of wind. It pirouetted with a grace that belied its formidable speed, a gilded tempest in the making. Like a celestial ballet, the golden silhouette whirled in a maelstrom, casting forth radiant beams of golden light that radiated in every direction. Qin Wentian, panic etched across his features, backpedaled frantically, his gaze affixed upon this mesmerizing but lethal dance of death. It was a relentless onslaught, a ceaseless onslaught that appeared insurmountable, for shattering the wings of this grand roc seemed an impossible task.

From Qin Wentian's very being surged a deluge of sword qi, its towering presence reaching skyward. The God's Hand radiated with an incandescent brilliance, conjuring forth a legion of gleaming swords that thrust relentlessly toward those formidable wings. Yet, one after another, the swords met their ignominious end, reduced to naught but ethereal dust. The cacophonous clash of metal against metal resounded incessantly, and Qin Wentian could feel the God's Hand teetering on the brink of obliteration. Recoiling from the sheer force of impact, he retreated once more, all too aware that under the razor-sharp edge of this assault, even a body forged of divine steel would be rendered asunder.

In the realm of sharpness, he found himself outmatched by his adversary. Speed, too, eluded him entirely. His only recourse lay in marshaling every vestige of his formidable strength to unleash an overwhelming counterattack.

The very essence of Qin Wentian's blood sang with ancient power, channeling the might of two potent bloodlines. With a sweep of his hand, the God's Hand manifested a colossal spear, its form imbued with the fusion of both bloodlines. All the divine energy coursing through his veins surged forth to envelop the spear, endowing it with a force that could compel even the most prodigious geniuses of the City of Ancient Emperors to bow in reverence.

The Golden-Winged Great Roc's spiral technique, a masterpiece of deadly elegance, concealed within it a potent slaying power.

—BOOM!— Qin Wentian's very being erupted with a primordial force, an embodiment of raw power harkening back to the dawn of creation. A deluge of demonic qi surged forth, sweeping through the realm with overwhelming might. Simultaneously, the pure-white radiance of his second bloodline coursed through him, infusing the spear with a destructive energy that threatened to rend the very fabric of existence.

"DIE!" His voice, a thunderous clarion, reverberated through the heavens as his spear lanced toward the oncoming spiral of the golden-winged roc. The full might of the God's Hand coalesced into this singular strike, aimed squarely at the roc's wings. This time, the spear did not yield to its destructive power. The air resounded with piercing clashes as an aura of divine power saturated the atmosphere. The long spear pierced through the roc's form, its golden wings unable to withstand the relentless assault. The golden-winged roc came to an abrupt halt, the spear skewering it through the wings and deep into its very core.

In the aftermath of this titanic clash, Qin Wentian's God's Hand shattered completely, its energy expended to the last drop in this final, cataclysmic assault. It was the culmination of his might, the zenith of destructive force he could muster.

The golden-winged roc, its cold, obsidian eyes locked upon Qin Wentian, displayed a rare moment of astonishment. Its jaws parted, uttering two words that reverberated through the air.

"God's blood..." The sound of its voice faded into the ether as the long spear, now bereft of its divine power, fragmented into oblivion. And then, as if a whisper on the wind, the golden-winged roc vanished entirely, swallowed by the unfathomable void, leaving no trace of its formidable presence.