Void Cultivation-Chapter 262

Under the relentless assault of the red figures, Grey’s aura began to rise subtly yet unmistakably. Although his forty-fifth spirit perforation did not shatter open, the pressure bearing down on him forced his body to undergo a silent transformation. Every strike, every collision, tempered his flesh and spirit alike. His meridians vibrated under the strain, and faint streams of energy coursed through him with increasing intensity.

His speed, too, rose naturally. Each movement became sharper, cleaner, as if the air itself was beginning to yield to his will.

Within the depths of his consciousness, the blurry inheritance of the Wind Monarch slowly began to take form. What was once indistinct and fragmented now stirred with growing clarity. Symbols flickered faintly in his mind, and a distant, majestic aura began to seep into his being. The inheritance was no longer dormant; it was awakening.

Very soon, the complete inheritance would descend into his sea of consciousness, and he would be bestowed with power that belonged solely to the Scions of the Wind Monarch, a lineage that commanded the heavens and rode upon the currents of the world itself.

At the same time, the Captain flew further and further away.

Her figure sliced through the crimson sky like an arrow released from a divine bow. Wherever she passed, the forming red fog was violently torn apart. The thick, coagulating mist split open as if cut by an invisible blade, and though no audible sound existed in that realm, soundless screams rippled outward like distorted waves in space.

The remnants of the dissipating fog trailed behind her briefly, only to be devoured by her in a single breath.

Further into the distance, she moved like a falling star, streaking across the blood-red heavens. Her expression remained solemn and unreadable as a black spear materialized in her hand. The weapon radiated a chilling aura, its surface dark and absolute, as if it had swallowed light itself.

With a single thrust, she pierced forward.

The surrounding red fog ruptured instantly. Countless shrill, silent screams reverberated through the void. The forming red figures trembled violently before her arrival, their incomplete forms flickering unstably, and then began to retreat in instinctive terror.

If anyone had witnessed this scene, they would have been utterly shocked.

The red figures that had been so relentless against Grey now recoiled like frightened prey. Yet the Captain’s expression did not change. Her movements were steady, precise, and devoid of hesitation.

She thrust again.

And again.

Each thrust pierced through layers of red fog and impaled the forming entities within. The figures writhed, their distorted silhouettes collapsing inward before being absorbed into the spear and then into her body. Their soundless, heart-wrenching screams spread through the void, unheard by any living creature.

Except her.

Only the Captain could hear them.

The shrill cries rang clearly within her mind, echoing against her divine sense. Yet her face remained calm, almost indifferent. She clutched the spear tightly and continued her assault without pause, as if this carnage was nothing more than routine.

This place could be considered a small world, a separate realm born from the divine consciousness of a supreme expert who once stood at the pinnacle of existence. Even in death or absence, that expert’s will had shaped this domain, and the laws here were subtly different from the outside world.

To hear the soundless screams meant one thing:

The Captain was extraordinary.

It also meant that a thread of her fate had already become intertwined with this realm.

Such a connection promised immense future benefits. But it also carried unavoidable karmic consequences.

Her cultivation was still too weak to trigger those consequences. For now, she could ignore them. However, the moment she stepped into the Nascent Soul Transformation Realm, the thread of fate binding her to this place would awaken.

And when it did, a tribulation would descend upon her.

It as not an ordinary tribulation, but one shaped by the will of this small world.

The Captain understood all of this.

Yet her expression did not waver. Not even the slightest ripple disturbed her heart. It was as if she had foreseen this path long ago and had already accepted its price.

With another decisive thrust, the red fog was pierced once more. Several stronger red figures condensed in the distance, their forms more solid, their auras heavier. They surged toward her, attempting to bar her path.

Their fate was no different.

Her spear swept forward like a streak of black lightning, piercing through them effortlessly. One by one, they collapsed, their silent screams stretching endlessly through the void before being devoured.

"Don’t worry, Little Grey," the Captain muttered inwardly, her voice calm and steady. "I promised you we’d do something big."

Her gaze sharpened as she sensed something deeper within this realm.

"We’re getting close to that thing. What you’re experiencing now is merely the appetizer. It will temper you... and prepare us both for what is to come."

A faint, dangerous glint flashed through her eyes.

"When the time comes, we will devour that fool. And once we do, you’ll finally break through your shackles and elevate your cultivation."

Her speed suddenly increased.

The crimson sky seemed to split apart as she burst forward with even greater momentum. Her entire body radiated brilliance, light coiling around her like divine flames. Grey was left far behind, struggling amidst the red figures.

Yet she had not abandoned him.

Her divine sense expanded outward, covering a radius of ten thousand feet. Within that vast sensory domain, every fluctuation was laid bare before her. Grey’s figure, his aura, the red figures surrounding him, all were clearly reflected within her mind.

Even as she raced ahead toward her true target, she continued to guard him from afar.

---

Before the reign of the Human Emperor, and long before the three great continents split apart and became forever separated by the boundless sea, there existed a single, colossal landmass that stretched across the entire realm.

It was a world without division, without oceans that severed destinies.

This massive land was divided into five vast territories known as Segments. Each Segment was ruled by a supreme sovereign whose name alone could shake heaven and earth.

The Western Segment was ruled by the Sky Ice Sovereign, a being whose frozen dominion spanned endless glaciers, storm-filled skies, and mountain ranges that pierced the clouds.

The Northern Segment was governed by the Orange Flame Lord, whose lands burned with eternal infernos and rivers of molten fire.

The Eastern Segment belonged to the Green Emperor, master of boundless forests and ancient lifeforms that thrived under his decree.

The Southern Segment was ruled by the Golden Immortal, whose authority stretched across radiant plains and immortal sanctuaries bathed in golden light.

And at the very heart of the realm lay the Central Segment, ruled by the enigmatic and terrifying Mystic Nether.

Each ruler’s territory was so vast that mortal language could not accurately describe its scale. Empires could rise and fall within a single corner of their lands without the sovereign ever noticing. The heavens above and the earth below seemed to bend subtly beneath their presence.

Yet among the five Segments, only one was ruled by humans.

The Central Segment, though the smallest in territorial size, was the only human-ruled domain. And despite its comparatively limited landmass, it was the most feared of them all.

The reason was simple.

Power.

The Mystic Nether Sovereign was not alone at the peak.

He had given birth to five sons and three daughters. Of his sons, two possessed talent so monstrous that they shattered the shackles of the Emperor Realm and ascended to the same realm as their father. Their strength was said to rival the heavens themselves. One of his daughters had firmly stepped into the Emperor Realm, her authority alone enough to suppress countless overlords.

The remaining children either perished in brutal conflicts that shaped the era, or failed to reach heights worthy of legend.

Compared to the other Segments, where each sovereign stood alone at the summit, the Central Segment possessed multiple existences capable of contending with supreme rulers.

This was what made them terrifying.

Their individual combat strength was overwhelming. Their bloodline produced monsters. Their unity made them nearly untouchable.

Jealousy and fear began to grow among the other four sovereigns.

They had once viewed the human-ruled Central Segment as insignificant due to its size. Now, they saw it as a looming threat that could one day swallow them whole.

During this era, the Human Race stood at the height of its dominance. The Segment they controlled was under absolute authority, and their influence spread far beyond their borders. Even powerful races from other territories were forced to show them respect, sometimes even within their own lands.

But even the mighty Human Race understood one truth.

The Central Segment was different.

The four sovereigns began to communicate in secret. Beneath diplomacy and ancient pacts, they plotted.

For thousands of years, they searched for a flaw.

A weakness.

A moment of vulnerability.

Yet the Mystic Nether Sovereign gave them none.

The Central Segment remained stable, its power consolidated, its heirs growing stronger with each passing century. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

The stalemate lasted for millennia.

Until the first god arrived.