Chapter 261: The Tower Opens

Chapter 261: Chapter 261: The Tower Opens

A month passed in the blink of an eye.

The world had been holding its breath. From the frozen wastes of Siberia to the sun-scorched deserts of Africa, every cultivator, every hunter, every awakener with even a shred of ambition had felt the shift. The mana in the atmosphere had been growing denser, thicker, vibrating with an ancient, primordial resonance that had not been felt on Earth still the cataclysm 300 years ago.

Then, it happened.

Above the Pacific Ocean, just off the coast of China, the sky split open.

CRRRRRACK!

A colossal tear in reality, spanning nearly a kilometer, ripped through the clouds. From within the tear, a blinding pillar of golden light descended, piercing the ocean’s surface and illuminating the waters for miles. The pillar touched down on a barren, rocky plain that had been pushed up from the ocean floor by the sheer pressure of the spatial distortion.

And then, the gate appeared.

It was a massive structure, over a hundred meters tall, carved from a single piece of rare stone that seemed to absorb light. Ancient runes, glowing with a faint, silver light, covered every inch of its surface—runes that predated humanity, predated the Cataclysm, predated everything on Earth. The gate pulsed with power, a heartbeat of mana that reverberated through the air.

The Tower of Primordial Ascension had opened.

The Arrival of Nations

The first to arrive were the Chinese. A fleet of mana-powered aircraft descended from the sky, their hulls gleaming with jade and gold. The moment they landed, the air around the plain grew heavy with pressure.

From the lead aircraft stepped a group of figures, each one radiating an aura that made the surrounding soldiers tremble. The first was an elderly man with a long, white beard, his eyes sharp as knives. He was Ryu Xian, the vice patriarch of the Ryu Clan, a Mid Astral Realm cultivator. Behind him was Ryu Yichen’s elder brother, Ryu Zhen, an Early Astral Realm powerhouse with a reputation for ruthlessness.

"The gate has indeed opened," Ryu Xian murmured, his voice echoing across the plain. "The mana density is extraordinary. The Tower’s interior will be even more potent."

Ryu Zhen stepped forward, his eyes scanning the gate. "The beasts inside will be at least Grand Core level and above. The weak will die quickly."

"Then they should enter then," Ryu Xian said coldly.

Within minutes, other nations began to arrive. Russia sent a squad of military cultivators, led by a towering man with an ice-cold aura, General Volkov, an Early Astral Realm cultivator. Japan arrived with a contingent of samurai-like warriors, their leader a woman with a serene expression and a blade that hummed with holy energy—Akari Tanabe, an Early Astral Realm swordswoman. Thailand sent a group of warriors clad in golden armor.

The Chinese officials, already present, greeted them with curt nods.

"General Volkov," Ryu Xian said, his voice neutral. "You’re late."

Volkov grunted. "The Pacific is large. We had to navigate the storm zones. But we’re here now. Let’s not waste time on pleasantries."

Akari stepped forward, her hand resting on her sword. "The Tower waits for no one. We should enter before the other powers arrive. The first to enter will have the advantage."

Ryu Zhen shook his head. "The Tower’s first floor is a labyrinth. Rushing in blindly is foolish. We wait for the Americans. Their Vanguard family has the best defensive abilities. They can serve as the spearhead."

The Arrival of the Western Powers

As if on cue, another fleet of aircraft descended from the sky. These were sleeker, more advanced, with American flags emblazoned on their hulls. The Vanguard family had arrived.

The vice patriarch, a stern-faced man with silver hair and a body that radiated an unbreakable, diamond-like aura, stepped out. His name was Grant Vanguard, a Mid Astral Realm cultivator, and his presence instantly silenced the surrounding conversations.

Behind him came the German delegation, led by the Schwarz family. Elias’s elder brother. He was a tall, dark-haired man with a cold, calculating expression. His name was Heinrich Schwarz, an Early Astral Realm cultivator, and his aura was a swirling vortex of shadows that seemed to swallow the light around him.

Heinrich looked up, his eyes narrowing as he sensed the oppressive auras approaching from the east.

The Varga Clan had arrived.

A group of figures descended from the sky, landing on the plain with a synchronized, ominous thud. They were led by an ancient, white-haired vampire with eyes like pools of blood—Count Varga, a Mid Astral Realm cultivator. Behind him were three Early Astral Realm vampires, and a dozen Peak Grand Core figures.

The tension on the plain skyrocketed.

Heinrich Schwarz frowned, his hand instinctively moving to his weapon. He turned to his people. "Enter the gate. Now. Don’t look back."

The German delegation quickly moved toward the gate, their footsteps hurried.

The Silva family of Brazil arrived next, followed by the other big families of France, the Church of Dawn, and other major powers. The plain was now crowded with hundreds of cultivators, from Peak Grand Core to Mid Astral Realm.

The Church of Dawn’s delegation was led by a woman with long, white hair and flowing robes—Seraphine D’Arc, the Astral Realm hero who had driven off Grimveil. Beside her stood Lena, her green eyes scanning the crowd, searching for a familiar flash of silver hair.

Lena’s master, a cold-eyed woman with silver hair, noticed her gaze. She grabbed Lena’s shoulder, her voice a sharp whisper.

"Stop looking for him. Your brother is a wanted criminal. If you associate with him here, in front of the World Government, you’ll be branded a traitor. The Church will not protect you."

Lena bit her lip, her eyes still searching. "But—"

"No," her master said, her voice absolute. "We enter now. Keep your head down."

The Church delegation entered the gate, Lena’s heart heavy with worry.

The Arrival of the Wanted

A few moments later, a spatial tear opened on the far side of the plain. Lucian stepped out, followed by Rose, Mickey, Bruno, Iris, and Lemora. They were all dressed in dark, combat-ready gear.

Lucian’s silver hair and crimson eyes were instantly recognizable. The crowd around them froze.

"The traitor..."

"He’s here?!"

"Someone call the—"

BOOOOOOOM!

A massive wave of death energy erupted from the sky, crashing down toward Lucian and his group. Rose reacted instantly, raising a powerful Aegis barrier that absorbed the attack, the death energy splashing against it like water against a rock.

Above them, the Du Maurier delegation descended. Louisa landed gracefully, her dark armor gleaming, her crimson eyes locked on Lucian. Behind her were other powerful figures—Colette, several corpse puppets, and a dozen Peak Grand Core vampires.

Lucian looked up, a dark, amused smirk on his face. "You really have the balls to show your face before me."

Louisa’s expression twisted with hatred and obsession. "You’ve grown arrogant, Lucian. Just because you survived a few encounters doesn’t make you a threat. I’ve been waiting for this moment."

Lemora’s cousin, a girl with long, crimson hair and a haughty sneer, stepped forward. Her name was Isabella Du Maurier. She looked at Lemora with disdain.

"So the little traitor has finally shown her true colors," Isabella mocked, her voice dripping with venom. "You’re siding with the enemy? With a half-breed? You’re even more pathetic than I thought, Lemora. Mother always said you were the weakest of us."

Lemora didn’t flinch. She stepped closer to Lucian, wrapping her arm around his, and gave Isabella a sweet, mocking smile. "And you’re still the same bitter, jealous little girl who couldn’t get a single suitor. How’s that working out for you, cousin?"

Isabella’s face turned red with fury. "You—"

Lucian raised a hand, the Blood Reaver materializing in his grip. Behind him, Bruno and Mickey’s auras blazed outward, both of them at Peak Grand Core. Iris stepped forward, her new armor materializing around her body—a sleek, black-and-crimson exoskeleton with plasma cannons on her shoulders, a visor that covered her face with a red glow, and a pair of energy blades that extended from her forearms.

"Are we just going to stand here like clowns," Lucian said, his voice cold, "or enter the damn tower?"

A powerful male vampire among the Du Mauriers—a Peak Grand Core elder with a scarred face—scoffed. "You’re just a bunch of weak clowns at Peak Grand Core. And, Lemora, you bitch. Betraying the family. You think you can—"

Louisa’s aura pressed down on him instantly. CRUSH! The elder coughed up blood, his knees buckling.

"Silence," Louisa hissed, her voice icy. "You don’t speak unless I tell you to."

Lucian chuckled. "I guess there’s no need for the charade. We’ll settle this in the tower."

He waved his hand, and his group moved toward the gate.

But one of the younger Du Mauriers—a boy no older than half a century, just a Peak Grand Core cultivator—rushed forward, his claws coated in death energy, aiming for Lucian’s back.

"You’re not getting away, kid!"

Lucian didn’t even turn his head. He murmured, "Blood Domain."

WHOOOOSH!

A sphere of pressurized blood engulfed the boy. He froze, his body locked down, his eyes wide with terror. Crimson strings attached to his limbs, and suddenly, they blazed with white-hot flame.

"AAAAAARGH!" the boy screamed as his body burned.

Louisa’s sister rushed forward, panic on her face. "STOP!"

But Lucian waved his hand. The boy’s body crumbled to ash.

Lucian turned, his evil smirk returning. He stepped into the gate, raising his middle finger as he said, "See you soon, my ultimate clowns."