Myth Beyond Heaven

Zhan Tian’s attack had been blocked.

The War God stood motionless, his greatsword resting on his shoulder. His expression was unreadable.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

“…You did it.”

The words carried the weight of an ancient being’s acknowledgment.

Yun Lintian coughed, blood splattering onto the ground. But his golden-flecked eyes remained unyielding as he forced himself to stand.

Zhan Tian’s lipless grin returned. “To think you could withstand my final strike. Not even the other Primordial Gods could claim that.”

He raised his hand—

A crimson orb of pure battle essence materialized above his palm, pulsing with unimaginable power.

“My authority is yours, Yun Lintian.”

The orb shot forward, slamming into Yun Lintian’s chest.

BOOM!

The moment Zhan Tian’s authority surged into him, Yun Lintian’s vision went white.

It wasn’t just power—it was an ocean of battle essence, raw and untamed, flooding his battered body like a collapsing dam. His Divine Core, already strained to its limits, shuddered violently as it tried to absorb the torrential energy.

CRACK!

A bone in his arm fractured from the pressure. Then another. Then another.

His meridians bulged like overfilled rivers, threatening to burst. His muscles twisted and reformed, tearing and knitting back together in an endless cycle of destruction and rebirth.

“Guh—!” Blood sprayed from Yun Lintian’s mouth as he collapsed to one knee. His hands dug into the earth, fingers breaking the stone beneath him.

Linlin and Qingqing rushed forward, but a shockwave of crimson energy blasted them back.

“Big Brother Yun!” Linlin cried, her tiny body skidding across the ground.

Qingqing’s eyes widened in horror. “His body can’t handle it!”

Yun Lintian roared, veins popping across his skin as the War God’s power raged inside him.

It was like swallowing a star.

Every cell in his body burned. His blood boiled. His soul trembled.

Memories—not his own—flooded his mind.

Endless battlefields.

Mountains of corpses.

The taste of blood and steel.

The unrelenting will to fight, to conquer, to survive.

Zhan Tian’s lifetimes of war poured into him, threatening to overwhelm his very being.

Yun Lintian’s consciousness flickered.

Darkness crept in.

“Fall,” a voice whispered—the instinct of war itself. “Submit.”

His vision blurred. His body screamed in agony.

But then—

A spark.

The Beyond Heaven King’s Crown flared, its brilliant light piercing through the crimson storm. The six Primordial Authorities within him awakened, resonating with the War God’s power.

They clashed with the War God’s essence, not to suppress it, but to temper it.

un Lintian’s teeth shattered from how hard he clenched them.

“I… refuse… to break!”

His Divine Core spun madly, its capacity expanding under the pressure. His bones shattered and reforged, becoming denser, stronger. His meridians widened, accommodating the raging energy.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

His body was being remade.

Zhan Tian watched silently, his massive arms crossed. There was no mercy in this trial—either Yun Lintian adapted, or he perished.

And Yun Lintian adapted.

Slowly, agonizingly, the storm inside him began to calm.

The War God’s power, once a raging beast, now bent to his will.

His breathing steadied. His trembling stopped.

Then—

BOOM!

A shockwave erupted from his body, sending dust flying in all directions.

When it cleared, Yun Lintian stood.

His tattered robes barely clung to his frame, revealing a body now carved from war itself—every muscle honed to perfection, every scar a testament to survival. His golden-flecked eyes burned with a new intensity, the weight of countless battles lingering in his gaze.

Linlin gasped. “He… he did it!”

Qingqing’s tiny hands covered her mouth. “His aura… it’s completely different now!”

Zhan Tian’s lipless mouth curled into a satisfied grin.

“Well done.”

Two words—an acknowledgment few in history had ever earned.

Yun Lintian exhaled, his breath carrying the faint scent of blood and steel. He flexed his fingers, feeling the unreal power coursing through them.

This was the War God’s Authority—not just strength, but the instinct of battle itself.

Zhan Tian’s massive form began to fade, his trial complete.

“Remember this feeling, Yun Lintian,” the War God rumbled. “War is not just about power—it is about enduring, adapting, conquering.”

Zhan Tian’s fading form suddenly solidified once more. His pupil-less eyes gleamed with contemplation as he looked at Yun Lintian.

“Before I go,” the War God rumbled, “there is one last thing.”

With a metallic screech, he planted his massive greatsword into the ground between them. The weapon stood taller than Yun Lintian, its blackened steel blade covered in ancient runes that pulsed with crimson light.

“This,” Zhan Tian said, placing a massive hand on the sword’s hilt, “is Heaven Sunderer.”

The moment the name was spoken, the blade trembled, releasing a wave of killing intent so dense it made the air itself feel heavy.

Linlin’s fur stood on end. “That sword… it’s alive!”

Qingqing shivered. “It’s drunk so much blood…”

Zhan Tian chuckled darkly. “Forged from the heart of a dying star and quenched in the blood of ten thousand gods. This blade has been with me since the dawn of the first war.”

His fingers traced a deep groove along the flat of the blade. “This mark was left when I split the Primordial Void Creature in half. This chip here—that’s from when I beheaded the Titan of Endless Sands.”

Yun Lintian stared at the weapon, feeling its hunger. It wasn’t just a sword—it was a living chronicle of destruction.

Zhan Tian’s gaze turned serious. “I know you’re a sword cultivator at heart. This greatsword isn’t your style.” He smirked. “But I won’t let such a fine weapon gather dust just because its new owner prefers pointy sticks.”

With that, he yanked Heaven Sunderer from the ground and—to Yun Lintian’s shock—offered it to him hilt-first.

“Take it.”

The words carried the weight of a divine decree.

Yun Lintian hesitated only a breath before gripping the massive hilt. The moment his fingers touched the leather-wrapped grip—

BOOM!

A vision exploded in his mind:

A battlefield stretching to the horizon. Mountains of corpses. Rivers of blood. And at the center, Zhan Tian standing atop a pyramid of dead gods, Heaven Sunderer dripping with golden ichor.

The vision vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Yun Lintian gasping. The sword was heavier than it looked—not in physical weight, but in karmic burden. Every life it had taken, every battle it had fought—that history now pressed against his soul.

Zhan Tian watched with amusement. “It likes you. That’s good—last person who tried to wield it without its approval had their arms torn off.”