Chapter 126: The Golden Core Tribulation II

Chapter 126: The Golden Core Tribulation II

Her voice trembled with genuine shock.

"How can an indigenous ant break through to the Core Formation Realm inside a sealed trial?!"

She shook her head violently, her emerald silk robes fluttering with agitated Qi. "Impossible... the spatial rules of this sector should suppress local cores... unless—"​

The reality unfolding above made her denial sound utterly foolish.

Qing Lian forced a breath into her lungs, snapping her silver fan open to steady her racing pulse. She couldn’t afford to lose her composure now. She had to wait for Situ Li to finish his hunt.

The grand ritual is nearly ripe, she reminded herself, a venomous, soothing smile returning to her painted lips.

Soon, the Sovereign’s ancient wish will be realized. No matter how brilliantly these native children struggle... their breakthroughs will only provide richer fuel for the final harvest.

A soft, eerie chuckle escaped her throat. "Hehehe..."

She fanned herself lazily, the dim black flames of the Soul-Anchor Lamps casting elongated, demonic shadows across her face.

Suddenly—

"Hm?"​

Qing Lian’s laughter cut off abruptly.

Her eyes narrowed as she felt a strange, familiar frequency bleeding into the palace’s network. It did not originate from her own followers, nor did it belong to the ancient constructs.

She extended a thread of her spiritual perception, tracing the anomaly through the twisting corridors of the palace...

Until it reached Sector Three.

Her perception locked directly onto Jules Drackar.

The young man was bathed in a rancid, pitch-black electrical aura, his eyes devoid of light, his heart saturated with pure, unadulterated malice.

Qing Lian’s smile widened into something genuinely delighted.

"Fascinating..." she purred, covering her lower face with her fan. "Corrupting pure elemental Qi into primordial Evil Qi through sheer, petty jealousy...

How deliciously pathetic."

Her eyes gleamed with cold calculation.

A corrupted vessel inside their own ranks... This will make the final blood-drain effortless.

Without another word, she severed the connection, letting the darkness consume him.

——————————​

Back in Sector Three...

Asher felt as though he had been plunged into a tempest of raw, primordial thunder.

The moment his Golden Core formed, the ancient laws of Heaven and Earth responded to the qualitative leap in his existence:

The Core Formation Heavenly Tribulation.

BOOOOOOM!

A jagged bolt of silver lightning pierced through the palace’s spatial ceiling, striking Asher dead center!

Asher gritted his teeth, the gold lines across his skin flaring to absorb the shock.

The six executioners remained rooted to their positions, their mechanical logic cores unable to process the arrival of a natural disaster.

Above Asher, Myriad Forge floated in a slow, protective orbit around his crown, humming in resonance with his racing heartbeat.

BOOOOM!

The thirteenth lightning strike slammed into his skull.

Asher’s body shuddered down to the marrow. His System had warned him that stepping into the Core Formation Realm required enduring the trial of Heavenly Thunder, but reading the prompt and having eighteen strikes of heavenly lightening scour your meridians were entirely different realities.

It burns like molten lead.​

His blood boiled inside his veins. His muscles tore and reknitted in frantic cycles. Every bone in his body felt as though it were being shattered by siege hammers and reforged by divine fire.

And there were still five more strikes to endure.

BOOOOM!

The fourteenth strike descended, fracturing the flagstones beneath his boots.

BOOM!

The fifteenth strike blasted his knees downward, nearly forcing him to the floor.

A thick mouthful of iron-rich blood surged into his throat. Asher clenched his jaw and swallowed it back down with savage defiance. He refused to spit it out.

BOOOOOOM!

The sixteenth bolt struck.

Every joint in his body screamed in agonizing protest. His internal reserves were running on fumes, his meridians stretched to their absolute breaking point. He wasn’t certain he could survive another direct hit.

SPLAT-BOOOM!

The seventeenth strike tore through the ceiling!

At that exact microsecond—Myriad Forge moved.

The sword shot straight up into the air, hovering like an iron umbrella directly above Asher’s head.

KRAAAANG!

The lightning struck the blade head-on!

SIZZLE!

Streams of brilliant silver lightning danced along the length of Myriad Forge.

Asher stared up at his weapon. He had gotten this blade from the corpse of a mutated beast during the very first day of the apocalypse. Back then, it had merely been a sharp piece of steel used for survival.

Now, it was his Soul Weapon.

The sword vibrated violently under the immense celestial burden.

Crack.

A hairline fracture appeared near the fuller.

Crack! Crack!

Dozens of spiderweb fissures spread across the steel, threatening to shatter the blade into dust.

Asher’s eyes turned to cold, resolute gold. Without a second thought, he channeled the very last drop of his remaining Qi straight into the dying sword!

HISS!

A vibrant coat of golden Metal Qi sealed the cracks, holding the metal together by sheer force of will.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The eighteenth and final lightning strike—three times larger than all the previous bolts combined—detonated upon the blade!

Because Myriad Forge was bound directly to his soul, the full celestial fury surged through the weapon and flooded straight into Asher’s central nervous system!

His veins bulged against his skin. His vision flashed pure white. His muscles seized in violent, rhythmic spasms.

The final one.

Just... one... more!

I will not fall here!

BOOOOOOM!

The blinding light peaked, vaporizing the surrounding dust, before slowly, completely dissolving into the cold air.

Silence fell over Sector Three.

Asher stood motionless, his head bowed, smoke rising from his scorched shoulders.

Then—

THUMP-BOOM!

A profound, cosmic resonance detonated from within his dantian.

Four colossal, golden pillars materialized around the perimeter of his spiritual sea, their surfaces carved with ancient, shining gold runes.

At the exact center of the pillars, Asher’s Golden Core spun with smooth, terrifying velocity.

FWOOSH!

The depleted core acted like a bottomless vortex, drawing in every trace of ambient Qi in the chamber. The raw energy was filtered through the four golden pillars, refined by the ancient runes, and pumped back through Asher’s meridians as something pure, indestructible, and sovereign:

Purified Metal Qi.

Asher slowly raised his head and opened his eyes.

Twin beams of pure golden light pierced through the gloom.

Myriad Forge descended smoothly from the air, its grip settling perfectly into his open palm. The sword hummed with a deep, resonant joy, its previous fractures seamlessly fused by the tribulation lightning.

Asher stood at his full height, his golden eyes sweeping over the six executioners.

"Let’s end this farce," he murmured, his voice carrying the immovable weight of a mountain.

"Shall we?"

For a single heartbeat, the chamber held its breath.

Then—

BOOM!

All six executioners lunged forward at once!​