Chapter 351

In the dark alleyways of a city he had never seen before, Lin Zhe stepped into a world that seemed too bright and too loud. His robes, stained with years of bloodshed, rustled against the strange fabric that passed for clothing here.

The buzzing noise of cars, the blaring horns, the bustling crowds—none of it made sense to him. He had once walked the land in peace, cultivating his power, controlling the elements, bending them to his will. But this world? It was nothing more than a mockery.

He had been summoned here by forces beyond his understanding. One moment, he was meditating in his secluded temple, feeling the subtle shift of Qi flow through his body, and the next, he was standing in this place, disoriented, with a strange sense of rage growing within him.

The city sprawled in every direction, full of machines, people, and so much noise. The air was thick with the scent of strange food and unknown substances. His first instinct was to destroy it all—to tear down this world that had no place for him, to bring it to its knees, just as he had done with countless others in the past. The power he had once wielded had been great, and it was time to remind the world of that.

A few days passed, and Lin Zhe began to understand the mechanisms of this strange, modern world. The technology that had once been incomprehensible to him slowly unraveled. He could feel the pulse of the world's power through the networks that bound the cities together. It wasn't the energy of the earth he had once known, but it was close enough.

People, though, were not as easily deciphered. They moved in packs, their minds lost in the haze of screens and constant chatter. They were weak. Pitiful. They had no concept of true power, of the depths of the energy that flowed through the earth. He could see the frailty in their bones, the terror in their eyes. It made them easy targets.

He would build his own harem—his own empire. His mind seethed with ambition. The idea of ruling this fractured, noisy world delighted him. But first, he needed to test it, to see how much of this modern society could be broken.

On the first night of his true conquest, Lin Zhe killed his first victim—a man who had tried to rob him in an alley. His blade, old as the mountains and sharp as his rage, cleaved through the man's neck with ease. It felt too easy. The man didn't even get a chance to scream before his head hit the pavement.

Lin Zhe felt a thrill, a power surge deep within him. This was what he had been missing. The sensation of control, of life and death in his hands. With each death, his power grew, and soon he found his followers—those who would bend to him.

They were scared, of course, but they worshiped his strength. They believed in him because they had nothing left to believe in. The city had nothing left to offer but its destruction.

One by one, Lin Zhe tore through the city, leaving a trail of blood and fire. The world had no defenses against him. The police could do nothing but cower in fear as he obliterated them with simple waves of his hand. Buildings crumbled under his gaze, people screamed as he dragged them into the streets, demanding their loyalty.

At first, they tried to fight back. But it was all in vain. Their weapons—guns, knives, even bombs—couldn't touch him. He was untouchable, the master of an ancient power they could never understand. What were their weapons but toys in the face of his cultivation? The earth itself trembled at his command.

Yet the deeper he dug into the city's heart, the more restless he became. He had expected resistance, but this... this was something else. He could feel it in the silence that sometimes gripped the streets, in the way the world seemed to pause for just a moment as if waiting for something. And then, like a predator, he would stalk his prey again, drawing them closer.

His harem grew, just as he had planned. They were women, men, anyone who would worship him. He kept them close, used their bodies and souls as fuel for his power. His most loyal were the ones who had seen death, felt it in their bones.

They did not fear him; they adored him. He was their god. He would make them immortal, just like him.

But as his empire expanded, something started to gnaw at him. There were moments when he would walk through the city streets, and a strange sensation would crawl up his spine. It wasn't fear. No. It was something else. A subtle shift in the air, an echo of something he couldn't name. A sense that he was being watched, studied.

At first, Lin Zhe ignored it. He crushed anything in his path, but those moments kept coming, pulling at his mind. It was as if some force, some power, was calling to him, pulling at the very core of his being.

He found it in the heart of the city—the place where the most power converged. It was a building that stretched high into the sky, far taller than anything he had seen before. A tower of steel and glass. The city's central core. The signal hub. A place of immense energy.

Lin Zhe felt the power surging from within it, like a current of lightning, and he knew—this was where he would find the answers. He would break whatever power dared to challenge him.

But when he entered the tower, he found something unexpected. It wasn't people waiting for him. It wasn't a weapon or a trap. It was a presence—a force unlike anything he had ever felt. It wasn't flesh. It wasn't blood. It was something... colder, deeper, older. The energy of the world itself.

He stood at the top, looking down at the vast city below. The wind blew in his face, cold and biting. His robes fluttered around him, but he didn't care. He had conquered everything—except this feeling that had been haunting him.

And then, in the deepest recesses of the tower, a voice, a deep and ancient voice, spoke. It wasn't one that could be heard, but rather felt, reverberating through his entire being.

"I see you, cultivator," the voice said, cold and indifferent. "But you are not the first to come. The world has been shaped by those like you—those who seek power, who seek control. But it is always fleeting. Always."

Lin Zhe's heart quickened. This presence—it wasn't afraid of him. It wasn't in awe of him. It was... beyond him.

"You do not belong here," the voice continued. "Your conquest, your empire—they are nothing. They are echoes of a time long past."

The ground beneath Lin Zhe trembled, and he gripped his sword tightly, his eyes narrowing. No one had ever dared speak to him like this. No one.

"I will show you your place," Lin Zhe muttered under his breath. He raised his hand to summon the power of the earth, to obliterate this voice, this presence.

But before he could strike, the tower seemed to... vanish. The air shimmered with an unnatural force, and Lin Zhe found himself standing alone in an empty void, the city gone, the power gone.

For a moment, he thought it was a trick, but then he understood. This was the end. The world had swallowed him whole, and now there was no way out.

In the silence, Lin Zhe laughed—a harsh, hollow laugh that echoed through the void.

He had lost nothing.

He had conquered everything, and even in this moment, he could still feel the power of the earth beneath him, the remnants of his harem, the endless echoes of his reign. He had won, for no force, no power could ever truly erase him.

Because Lin Zhe was a god. And gods never truly die.