Paragon of Sin

Within his Sky Palace, in the lavishly designed main bedroom, Wei Wuyin laid down silently on his bed. His silver eyes were fixated on a particular piece of the ceiling, lost in thought. The event with Lin Ziyan had been thoroughly unexpected, and when he recalled all the information he had just received, all the theories that had formulated within him as a result, he couldn't help but be lost.

The comfort and warmth of the king-sized bed did little to alleviate the weight of the heavy questions lingering in his mind. "There's so much I haven't fully understood. It feels like I'm weaving through tall grass, searching for something I can't remember or recall."

The feeling continuously ate at him, unable to find the answers to his questions. What's worse, he didn't have anyone he could bounce ideas off of or seek help from. He was stuck with merely himself. It wasn't just about the Bloodline of Sinners, but the Heavenly Daos, Blessed, the Temporal Reincarnation, the strange intentions of the Sacred Elven Queen and the Alchemist Association, the truth about his Astral Souls, and even Su Mei's mysterious event during her astral tribulation.

He felt like he was in a quagmire, requiring strength and breadth of mind to properly see. The things he lacked the most at the moment. He hadn't even fully understood the profundities of the Soul Idol Phase yet, and by comparison, the other things were far, far beyond his limits of understanding.

He recalled the Scripture of Sin. It was so vaguely inscribed with esoteric and strange texts that he still had yet to understand twenty percent of it. And that little amount might not be fully correct, containing double meanings or new terms with meanings that exceeded what he currently knew.

All those years ago, his life had changed.

A man with silver hair and black eyes, grimy and insane, had somehow transferred his bloodline to him. Why? He didn't know. But it seemingly saved him from the fate of being beheaded. He didn't know whether to thank him or curse him. Regardless of how he acted, how confident he was, how much influence he possessed in the starfield, or how great his cultivation foundation was at the moment, it all paled in comparison when met with the Calamities of Hell.

In the end…

Karmic Luck Value: 1,356.7.

First Calamity: Survived - 7/7.

Second Calamity: Suppressed - 7 Years.

°Seven more years.° After eliminating Yuan Longshi, the thirty-six years he had was reduced to nine. At the time, he was unbelievably excited, invigorated at the challenge. But in seven years, he could vanish from this world forever. 

Seven years…

As a cultivator, especially within the Scarlet Solaris Sect, he knew that death was always around the corner. As long as he made the mistake of making that turn, his life would come to an abrupt end. He had always had a strong heart in the face of death, treating every battle as his last and staking his all in each and every one. But this wasn't a corner, but an approaching light that he couldn't avoid. He had to face it, staring at it for seven full years knowing what may come.

Furthermore, this was the Second Calamity.

There were sixteen more.

He didn't feel helplessness, despair, or fear, simply a little uncertainty. It was a tension within his shoulders, a weight on his heart, and it increased in intensity with each passing day. 

Wei Wuyin's Heart of Cultivation remained strong, no longer idly accepting his fate as before, but it didn't stop the pressure from increasing.

Just as he was lost in his ever-growing and endless thoughts, his spatial ring emanated a faint light. He received a transmission message. With a quick sweep of his spiritual sense, he read the message. It was from Xue Yifei!

She had been left on the Bloodforge Continent due to the explosion of the Void Gate caused by Jiang Linlan. That event had killed an extremely high number of individuals, all caused because of a one-sided jealousy towards him. She was also Jiang Feilan's daughter, the Sacred Light Palace's Palace Master, so she wasn't killed. 

It had been over a year since he last saw Xue Yifei. A gorgeous, impeccable visage emerged in his mind, accompanied by an exquisite and perfect body. She was still, to present, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. 

It read: "I've ascended to the Eighth Phase of Qi Condensation! Thank you for the Spirit Forge Blood Elixir!" 

He could feel her ardent jubilation due to her advancement. This lightened his mood, recalling how she would continuously send messages of thanks and occasional updates of her cultivation, of her training achievements, and her idle thoughts at times. Despite being worlds away, she maintained that link with him.

Despite being separated, he could still one-sidedly use the Void Gate to send resources to the Bloodforge Continent. She and Ying, his shadow, were still enjoying the best resources for their cultivation levels. 

It was this message that broke him away from his tolling thoughts. While he might be facing uncertainties, it reminded him that he still had to continue his cultivation, continue improving, to continue fighting until he was worthy of learning the answers. One day, all these questions will seem like a faint memory. This is what he believed.

He believed he would survive, that he would always survive.

His silver eyes emitted a faint radiance, effusing a light of renewed vigor. He placed all these thoughts behind him, replied to Xue Yifei, and set his next goal. In one month, he was scheduled to face Qingye Ying, or the Princess of Everlore, in an All-Alchemic Clash. This will be an event witnessed by tens of billions, known by trillions. 

He should refine his skills a little. 

It's been a while since he concocted a Ninth-Grade Alchemical Product.

-----

In the Tri-Vision Starfield, there was a particular planet that was the most known, most highly regarded location. It was named Everlore. It was the location, the planet, that the King of Everlore himself resided in, developed, and established his forces on. After his mysterious disappearance, it had been left to his servants that had remained behind.

One of these servant lineages were the San Clan, who now used the planet as the base of their rule, their Imperial Capital. It was a planet originally completely devoid of war and conflict, being respected by every single hegemonic force throughout the eras.

Then, when the era reached its current decline, the San Clan abruptly rose with two Realmlords that suppressed the entire starfield. This planet was no longer a designated safe haven, being transformed into a planet that had a set of ironclad cultivation rules like all the others, rife with internal strife and conflict, and fights of greed and desire. 

It could be seen as a blasphemy to the King of Everlore's name, but nothing could be done about it. The San Clan had the highest cultivation base for a thousand years, and the other hegemonic forces could merely look on as it was changed to what it was now. The planet that was once free of conflict, lively, and a safe haven for all alchemists and cultivators, had truly been eradicated. It existed merely in name.

At the moment, on this very planet, within the San Clan's luxurious and grand Imperial Palace was a gathering of dozens of elders within the Grand Hall. The atmospheric tension was thick, and concern and anxiety was etched into the foreheads of them all. 

At the leading position of the group, a figure cloaked entirely in a misty veil was sitting from an elevated position. While the figure couldn't be seen, the faint trembles of space around them suggested that they were a Realmlord.

These were all Elders of the San Clan, members of elite positions. But if one looked at their cultivations, not a single one amongst them had reached the Sixth Stage of the Astral Core Realm, the Gravity Emission Phase. Despite that, they all contained the distinct bloodline aura of the San Clan, determining them as legitimate descendants. 

They were clamoring amongst each other, discussing a single topic that had many of them filled with trepidation and uncertainty: the Myriad Monarch Sect. The discussions were animated and heated.

"For over a thousand years, we've ruled this starfield! It was left to us by the King of Everlore himself! I say we use the full strength of our clan, bring this so-called Prince of Everlore and Grand Sage Tuo Bihan to a kneel!" An aggressive grey-haired elder argued, shouting out with spittle.

"Nonsense! The Myriad Monarch Sect's Main Planet is protected by its Planetary Formation, something devised by Grand Monarch Wu Yu himself. It would be impossible to breach, are you asking us to die?!" Another Elder rebuked.

"Tch! We have two Realmlords, they have one! We can plan a tactic to bring them out and suppress them." The grey-haired elder slammed the table, causing the others to become even more invigorated in their arguments.

The arrival of a naturally ascended Realmlord had threatened their position, leaving them extremely nervous of the future. For over a millennia, they enjoyed the benefits of an Imperial Clan, the ruler of an entire starfield. The vast majority of these elders were born into royalty and nobility, and it was something they refused to surrender. 

A female elder interjected, "How is this even possible? According to our records, it should be impossible for Tuo Bihan to ascend! Tuo Bihan had a far lower foundation than that pure-blooded elf from the Sacred Light Palace, and he was similarly a purist. Is this merely a lie conjured to entrap us or bait us?" 

Her words caused the room to simmer into a silent deliberation. They, too, had this very question on their minds. According to the King of Everlore, the minimum requirement to succeed the Seventh Astral Tribulation was a 9th Mortal State Astral Soul, a fully-developed Intent, a Seven-Ringed Soul Idol, Seven-Ripple Spatial Resonance, and an Astral Core of at least a centimeter in size.

Anything less meant direct failure. This information was a secret that hadn't been spread, because it wasn't exactly conclusive. There were numerous other ways to survive and overcome the tribulation or exceptions, which is why the King of Everlore never publicized his hypothesis.

In fact, besides the one centimeter-sized Astral Core, Wei Wuyin had similarly conceived the same beliefs. Of course, with a better Soul Idol, a better Spatial Resonance, Zenith Mortal State, or a greater sized Astral Core, one could make up for any deficits in requirement.

"...It could be." A faint hope bloomed in their hearts at this thought. If that's the case, then they had ample time and could still maintain their position, but a voice had shattered this hope.

"It is not a lie."