Chapter 455 - 224: Against Him

The brilliant, incandescent tide of golden violet radiance gradually receded within the lower astral arena, leaving behind a tranquil, pristine silence.

The shattered pillars and cratered floor seemed to settle under the gentle hum of shifting starlight as Shen Xun’er stood tall amidst the fading embers, her blood-stained scales slowly retracting into her porcelain skin, her eyes glowing with a calm, unshakeable will that had long been absent.

High above, upon the boundless cosmic platform suspended in the outer void, the atmosphere was thick with the residue of unyielding sovereign will.

Astraeus, the God of Space, stood with his starlight-woven robes drifting softly against the silent cosmic currents.

He turned his gaze away from the shimmering projection and stared intently at Shen Haoran.

The black-robed youth slowly relaxed his hands, letting his hands relax as the dense, suffocating golden aura that had enveloped his tall frame slowly receded back into his dantians, vanishing without leaving behind a single ripple in the surrounding vacuum.

Astraeus rolled his eyes with a low, dramatic sigh, shaking his head at the brazen audacity of the sovereign heir.

Yet, the ancient deity didn’t utter another word of reprimand.

He turned his attention back to the rotating projection, his starry eyes locking onto Shen Xun’er’s battered yet noble silhouette standing alone in the arena below.

This time, the ancient god’s gaze was fundamentally different.

The cold, aloof skepticism and the heavy disappointment that had clouded his vision earlier were completely gone, and in their place, his starry eyes held a distinct, genuine hint of deep appreciation and profound reverence.

Her brutal, unhinged display of primal resolve—tearing off her own reflection’s arm with her bare teeth, shredding through her own impaled limbs without flinching, and ripping out the very manifestation of her inner demons to regain her will—had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was no fragile flower.

She was an untamed, apex monster capable of commanding the boundless void.

’If I had not encountered this terrifying, calculating young monster first,’ Astraeus mused internally with an appreciative hum, ’I would have surely and instantly considered this girl as my successor in a heartbeat.’

Shen Haoran casually rested his hands behind his back, his dark robes falling into clean, regal folds.

Without turning his head, his deep, magnetic voice cut through the quiet vacuum with smooth, calculated composure.

"Tell me, Astraeus... what do you think of Xun’er now?"

Astraeus let out a soft, admiring chuckle, the constellations along the fabric of his sleeves swirling in harmonious alignment as he offered unreserved praise.

"She is magnificent," the God of Space declared, his voice carrying the authentic, majestic resonance of a pleased creator. "A savage, unbridled spirit that burns hotter than a collapsing star. To crush her own inner demon, tear out the heart of her self-doubt, and reclaim the pride of a dragon in the face of the threat of death... Her talent is beyond question, her body is peerless, and her combat instincts border on divine perfection. Truly, she has far exceeded qll geniuses I had encountered in the past."

Astraeus paused, turning to face Haoran with a questioning tilt of his starry brow.

"Which brings me to the next matter. Do we still truly need to conduct the third trial? In my eyes, Xun’er is already more than worthy enough to inherit the full mantle of my divine position and receive the divine physique without further delay."

Shen Haoran looked down at the projection for a quiet, suspended second.

Then, he slowly and deliberately nodded.

"A third trial is absolutely necessary," Haoran replied, his tone cold, clinical, and completely devoid of compromise.

He stepped toward the edge of the starlight platform, his golden eyes narrowing into sharp, calculating slits as he dissected the psychological state of his subordinate.

"It is true that she has broken through her current stagnation and forcefully regained her Dao heart through the fury of battle, but you must also understand the fragility of the mortal psyche, Astraeus."

"A heart that has just been reconstructed from the ashes of severe trauma is like fresh, unquenched steel. It shines brilliantly under the hammer, yet its internal crystalline structure remains raw and vulnerable."

"If she steps out into the wider cosmos in this state, facing enemies who wage war not through simple physical violence, but through insidious soul attacks, karmic manipulations, and deep psychological warfare... Her dao heart could still just as easily be shattered once more."

Haoran turned his gaze back toward the deity, his voice carrying an unbending finality.

"In the third trial, I must personally make sure that her heart will remain firm, no matter what horrors, what betrayals, or what impossible mountains stand before her path."

Astraeus looked at the young man, a spark of deep, intrigued curiosity flashing within his luminous eyes.

"An uncompromising master," Astraeus remarked with a faint smirk. "Then tell me, young Shen... what exactly have you planned for the third trial?"

"I will personally face her," Haoran stated simply.

With those words, Shen Haoran turned on his heel.

His dark robes swirled gracefully around his imposing silhouette as he slowly walked away, stepping smoothly across the starlight platform toward the descending spatial gateway that led directly into the central chamber of the ruined divine temple.

Seeing the youth preparing to take the stage himself, Astraeus suddenly recalled the other people who were also in the trial grounds.

He called out after Haoran’s retreating figure.

"Hold a moment. What about the other candidates who entered the temple alongside her? There are still dozens of sect disciples, rogue cultivators, and promising prodigies currently struggling through the outer labyrinths and secondary chambers of my realm. What do you plan for them?"

Shen Haoran did not stop his stride. He did not even turn around, nor did he slow his pace in the slightest.

He merely raised his right hand and casually waved his sleeve dismissively through the air, his cold, indifferent voice drifting back like a passing winter draft.

"They are no longer needed."

Astraeus watched the dark-robed youth vanish into the gateway, a low, amused grin forming upon his sculpted divine face.

"Understood," Astraeus murmured softly. "A monarch truly wastes no pity on the chaff."

The God of Space casually shrugged his broad shoulders.

With a light, effortless flick of his starlight-woven wrist, Astraeus channeled the divine spatial authority of his core across the entire expanse of the secret realm.

HUMMMMMMMMM—

Deep within the labyrinthine outer corridors, the winding stone passageways, and the separate elemental trial rooms of the ruined divine temple, dozens of elite disciples and the wandering rogue cultivators were still desperately fighting against stone golems, solving ancient glyphs, and searching for the grand inheritance.

They never even had the chance to realize what had arrived.

SNAP.

The spatial coordinates occupying the exact physical volume of their bodies were instantly and simultaneously collapsed into zero-dimensional points.

Without a sound, without a flash of light, and without a single dropped drop of blood, every single person who was inside the inheritance realm taking the trials died instantly.

Their physical forms, their nascent souls, their storage rings, and their lifelong cultivation bases were cleanly, quietly erased from the fabric of existence, dissolved into microscopic motes of spatial starlight that were greedily reabsorbed into the temple’s ancient foundation arrays.

The entire ancient sanctuary fell into complete, uninterrupted stillness.

In the vast, boundless world of the Celestial Dragon Vault, all pretenders had been thoroughly extinguished.

Only the awakened dragon remained, waiting in the silence for the man who would either crown her ascension or break her upon his blade.

*

*

"

The dark, primordial silence of the vast arena was broken only by the rhythmic, heavy pants of Shen Xun’er.

Her knuckles were still dripping with the ethereal residue of the dark reflection’s annihilated soul, and the heat of her ignited dragon body hummed steadily through her veins like a roaring furnace.

Before the lingering sparks of the battle could settle into the fractured basalt floor, the vaulted cosmic ceiling rippled once more.

HUMMMMMMMMM—!

Just then, the deep, resonant voice of the God of Space, Astraeus, descended through the atmosphere, rolling across the stone pillars with clear, unreserved majesty and profound reverence.

"Well fought, child. You have looked directly into the abyss of your own mind, refused the sweet poison of despair, and torn out the rot that sought to chain your spirit to the dirt. You have conquered the mirror, and in doing so, you have overcome yourself."

The divine voice vibrated with a gentle, harmonious warmth as Astraeus bestowed the victor’s blessing.

"Before taking the third trial, allow me to heal you back to health"

FLASH—!

A brilliant, gentle shower of incandescent silver-green starlight rained down from the firmament, completely enveloping Shen Xun’er’s battered, blood-soaked body in a warm, soothing cocoon of ancient vitality.

The restorative energy seeped effortlessly into her porous skin, diving straight into her meridians.

The agonizing phantom ache in her shattered right palm dissolved in a heartbeat as the fractured metacarpals knitted back together with crystalline perfection.

Her snapped left elbow clicked cleanly into place, her fractured ribs realigned without a trace of scarring, and the deep, ragged puncture wounds where the shadow swords had impaled her stomach and thighs closed completely, smoothed over by pristine, unblemished skin.

The transformation did not stop at mere physical healing.

Under the washing tide of the spatial starlight, the dark, stained appearance she had carried throughout her descent into insecurity was entirely washed away.

And lastly, her frayed, soot-stained combat dress peeled away like shed scales, replaced by her pristine, regal red robes—tailored from high quality silk, adorned with sharp gold dragon embroidery along the lapels and cuffs that billowed proudly in the rising draft.

Standing tall upon the arena floor, Shen Xun’er clenched her fists, testing the explosive, boundless vitality crackling through her forearms.

Her heart beat with steady, thunderous rhythm inside her chest, completely purged of the toxic hesitation that had suffocated her for the past year.

"The threshold of true power lies beyond," Astraeus’s voice echoed once more, carrying a solemn, anticipatory weight. "Walk forward, young dragon. The third and final trial will begin now."

Shen Xun’er took a deep, steady breath, exhaling a faint trail of golden dragon smoke from her lips.

"Understood," she murmured, her voice clear, melodious, and completely devoid of fear.

Shen Xun’er followed the instructions of the ancient deity.

She turned away from the center of the arena and walked forward with firm, rhythmic, and purposeful strides.

Her red robes fluttered gracefully behind her, her boots clicking cleanly against the obsidian flagstones.

The colossal pillars parted before her path as an ancient, straight stone corridor unveiled itself from the shifting spatial mist, guiding her through the heart of the ruined divine temple.

After traversing several hundred paces through the quiet, torch-lit corridor, Shen Xun’er arrived in front of a pair of colossal, thousand-foot-tall stone doors.

The massive double doors were carved from solid celestial meteorite, etched with intricate, weathered reliefs depicting ancient cosmic emperors shattering star systems with single gestures.

A heavy, suffocating aura of stillness leaked through the microscopic seam between the slabs, waiting for a worthy hand to unseal it.

Shen Xun’er stepped up to the threshold, placed both of her pale, unblemished hands against the cold stone, and pushed it open.

SKRRRRRRRRRRRRRR—CLANG!

With a deep, grinding roar that shook the bedrock beneath her feet, the ancient stone doors parted inward, revealing a colossal, circular grand chamber bathed in a dim, eerie twilight.

Shen Xun’er took a single, composed step across the threshold and walked in.

However—

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT—!!!!!

The very millisecond her boot touched the interior flagstones, every single hair on the back of her neck violently stood on end!

An overwhelming and suffocating sense of impending death violently slammed into her sea of consciousness like a falling celestial mountain.

Her instincts screamed a deafening, frantic alarm inside her soul, warning her that reality itself was about to be cleaved in two.

Without a single fraction of a second wasted on rational thought, Shen Xun’er obeyed the scream of her body.

She did not turn around, did not pause to look, and did not raise a defensive technique.

With explosive, instantaneous reaction speed, Shen Xun’er kicked off the floor with her left heel and threw her entire body into a desperate, lightning-fast roll to the far right.

SWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISH—CRACK-BOOOOOOOOM!

Barely a hair’s breadth from her trailing blonde bangs, an invisible, hyper-compressed cutting wave of pitch-black sword intent tore through the exact spatial coordinates where she had been standing half a heartbeat prior.

The cutting wave did not merely slice through the air—it cleanly, effortlessly cleaved through the thousand foot tall celestial stone doors, tore a bottomless, two hundred pace trench through the bedrock of the grand chamber, and violently sliced into the outer boundary of the pocket dimension, leaving behind a hissing, pitch-black scar in the fabric of space that refused to heal.

Shen Xun’er completed her roll across the smooth marble floor, planting both boots firmly against the stone and popping up into an immediate, low combat crouch.

Standing straight with fluid, predatory grace, Shen Xun’er channeled her crimson gold dragon flames into both forearms, condensing thick, diamond-hard scales over her fists as she prepared for a life or death battle against whatever monstrous ancient guardian lurked within the dark chamber.

"Who’s there?!" she barked, her purple eyes flashing with fierce, untamed battle intent.

Yet... the instant her sharp gaze pierced through the lingering sword mist to lock onto the figure standing thirty paces opposite to her...

Shen Xun’er froze.

Her vibrant purple eyes widened as she staggered in shock.

The breath caught violently in her throat, her lips parting slightly as the combat posture she had assumed stiffened into pure, uncomprehending bewilderment.

Standing calmly at the center of the grand chamber, bathed in the dim silver twilight of the high ceiling, was a tall, regal figure draped in flowing midnight-black robes trimmed with faint gold celestial embroidery.

His hands were clasped casually behind his back, his posture entirely relaxed, untouchable, and radiating the fathomless, terrifying aura of an ancient monarch looking down upon a mortal insect.

A plain, nameless steel sword hovered silently beside his right shoulder, its tip still smoking with the lingering residue of that catastrophic cutting wave of sword intent.

It was Shen Haoran.

"Y-Young... Young Master...?" Shen Xun’er stammered, her voice trembling slightly in genuine, disbelieving confusion.

Her mind scrambled to make sense of the scene.

Had the trial ended?

Had he arrived to pull her from the temple?

Why had he unleashed a lethal, executing strike the very second she walked through the doors?

Before her racing thoughts could settle, the colossal chamber shuddered as the vast, celestial voice of Astraeus boomed from the vaulted ceiling once more, echoing off the obsidian walls with absolute, chilling finality.

"Welcome to the third and final trial."

The ancient God of Space’s voice carried no warmth, no comfort, and not a single shred of mercy.

"You have conquered your flesh. You have slain your inner doubt. But an emperor will is meaningless if it bends, hesitates, or shatters when faced with the apex of the world."

"Shen Xun’er... your final objective is simple, cast aside your sentiment, take up your claws, and prove your worth before the man in front of you."

"Survive his blade... or die upon this floor."

Across the quiet chamber, Shen Haoran slowly tilted his head, his piercing golden eyes locking onto her wide purple pupils, a faint, razor-sharp smirk curling upon his handsome lips as the nameless sword slowly leveled its point straight toward her heart.