Chapter Twenty-Nine: Resurrection!

The blood-red gleam faded from Zhou Yi’s eyes, his breath calmed, and he carried Zhou Tian to his room. The old warrior and Emperor Qin followed behind.

Watching their retreating figures, Zhou Zui felt his luck had truly run out today. Though he wasn’t sure what had happened, it seemed it had nothing to do with him. Still, at this point, leaving wouldn’t be so easy. Gritting his teeth, he followed after them.

In Zhou Tian’s room, he lay quietly on the jade bed, without the slightest sign of life.

Zhou Yi stood at the side, gazing at Zhou Tian with deep, unreadable eyes, lost in thought. Emperor Qin and Zhou Zhan stood behind him, brows furrowed.

“Old Warrior, what happened this time? Even you couldn’t stop the attacker?” Emperor Qin questioned Zhou Zhan.

Zhou Zhan sighed. “This is my responsibility. I thought it was just a few petty enemies of ours, never imagined it would be that old fiend, the Saint Demon, smuggling his way back to the Nine Provinces and targeting us!”

“The Saint Demon!?” Emperor Qin’s pupils narrowed—he clearly knew the name.

He’d seen it in the Zhou family’s records—a figure who rose to fame nearly ten thousand years ago, a contemporary of Zhou Zhan, with a unique soul: two wills inhabiting one soul, otherwise known as split personality.

Normally, such a person would find it nearly impossible to embark on the path of cultivation, since two personalities sharing control would easily disrupt the flow of spiritual energy within. Yet, somehow, this man had found a stroke of fortune, began his cultivation, and never looked back. One persona walked the path of light, the other of darkness, aligning with destiny itself. His breakthroughs came at astonishing speed, making him one of the greatest prodigies of his era.

Though the dual personalities quickened his advancement, they also limited his power. Though he cultivated two paths, his body could hold only so much; in every battle, he could only draw on half his strength, never unleashing the full power of either persona. This small gap became an unbridgeable chasm.

These memories flickered through Emperor Qin’s mind as he spoke: “How could he have smuggled his way back? The Nine Provinces’ formation is formidable—even a Celestial Lord would struggle…”

“It doesn’t have to be a head-on assault. Back then, he had close ties with the monks of Luotian Monastery in the Heavenly Buddha Province. Many suspect the legacy he obtained came from a great figure of ancient Buddhism. I fear those bald monks are behind this!” A cold light flashed in Zhou Zhan’s eyes.

“They intervened as well?”

Rage seethed between Emperor Qin’s brows, the dragon aura above the palace roiling and roaring, making the mighty of the capital wonder what had happened today. Was Luotian Monastery seeking war?

“No, not directly. Their reputation wouldn’t survive such a move.”

“Then why the trouble? Isn’t he unable to use his full power?” Emperor Qin pressed, frowning.

“The dual personalities allow rapid advancement, but after reaching the King realm, a new problem arises. Bearing the weight of two paths, he cannot break through to the Dao Lord realm.” Zhou Zhan’s tone grew strange. “He was called both the easiest and the hardest of our generation to become a Dao Lord. Easy, because if the two personalities fused, he could ascend instantly. Hard, because both are at the King realm with indomitable hearts—neither willing to yield, so fusion is impossible. For thousands of years he wandered outside the Nine Provinces searching for a solution, all in vain. But this time, things have changed…”

“He found a way to fuse them. Even if it’s only a trace of power, it’s more than I could withstand.” A hint of desolation flashed in Zhou Zhan’s eyes. Once the leading light of his age, he had looked down on the Saint Demon, but now found himself a step behind.

“Even if he becomes a Dao Lord, what of it? He should know the foundation of the Zhou family!” Emperor Qin snorted coldly.

“That is likely why he returned. He was stuck at that threshold for countless years. Now, with this sudden insight, I suspect someone has made a deal with him.” Zhou Zhan continued. It was not hard to deduce: the Zhou family had no recent enmity with the Saint Demon, so this sudden attack, coupled with the newly discovered fusion method, pointed to a larger conspiracy.

Emperor Qin fell silent. The name Saint Demon was now marked for death in his heart—the Zhou family had more than just Zhou Zhan.

From his corner, Zhou Zui listened, dumbstruck. What on earth was all this? Saint Demon? Even the name sounded terrifying!

Time ticked by. The Prince of Qin’s residence was on lockdown; no one could enter or leave.

In the cultivation chamber of the residence, opulent and grand, the black walls were inscribed with formations. Dense spiritual energy gathered here, and at the center lay a gigantic purple jade stone, mist swirling within.

Seated atop the jade was a woman of fair beauty, brows slightly knitted, stirring sympathy in any who saw her. It was Tian Ling, currently in seclusion, preparing for the grand competition.

Tian Ling opened her eyes. What was wrong? Even sitting on this warm purple jade, she could not calm her mind. Why this sudden anxiety…

A heavy silence hung in Zhou Tian’s room. Zhou Zui crouched in the corner, hardly daring to breathe. Hope had been all but abandoned. In previous times when Zhou Tian lost his vital signs, he would recover within a short span, but now, hours had passed with no sign of life.

Zhou Yi said nothing, but flecks of blood-red light reappeared in his eyes, the sound of surging blood echoing in the void…

At the stroke of midnight, a new string of messages appeared in the Immortality System’s log:

“Revival count refreshed.”

“Immortality System activated.”

“Host revived!”

To everyone’s disbelief, Zhou Tian’s heart gave a sudden thump, and he sat bolt upright, eyes wide open.

“What the hell…” Zhou Zui’s face drained of color, breath ragged, on the verge of passing out.

Zhou Zhan’s eyes shone with golden light, thunder flickering within as he scanned Zhou Tian from head to toe, finding nothing amiss. Emperor Qin did the same, his aura augmented, countless runes swirling in his gaze—still, no flaws to be found.

Zhou Yi appeared before Zhou Tian in a flash, blood-red light still glinting in his eyes as he stared at him.

“Hey—!” Zhou Tian, startled by Zhou Yi’s sudden movement, blurted out, “What are you doing? I’m warning you—a tiger doesn’t eat its cubs! Besides, my flesh isn’t exactly a delicacy!”

“Haha!” Zhou Yi burst out laughing, the blood-red light fading from his eyes. He slapped Zhou Tian on the head. “You little rascal! As long as you’re all right!”

Clutching his head, Zhou Tian looked around at the others in the room. Noticing Zhou Zhan and Emperor Qin, he straightened his posture and put on a serious face. “Everyone’s here… Hm, Zhou Zui, why are you crouched in the corner? That’s hardly proper!”