That contemptuous smile, as though he had trampled the entire primordial world beneath his feet, did not linger on Yang Chen's face for long.
Like a crack in ice, it appeared quickly and vanished just as fast.
Because that terrifying burden, enough to crush the entire world, had not eased in the slightest.
Above his head, the inky tribulation clouds continued to churn and gather in silence. The Heavenly Punishment Divine Thunder brewing within gave off an aura of destruction that rose geometrically with every passing moment, as if it would become the Heavenly Dao's most merciless judgment in the next instant and erase him completely from existence.
The six supreme Sage wills had transformed into six invisible cosmic mountains, pinning him firmly in place from every point in time—past, present, and future—and from every law of karma, fate, and reincarnation.
That pressure did not act upon his flesh. It crushed his True Spirit directly.
The boiling blood Yang Chen had just ignited because of the system was being forcibly chilled by that cold will.
Within him, the curses and wails of the countless dead souls of the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin Clans had never ceased.
It was not an illusion.
It was real, an eternal brand etched into karma itself.
Miserable Dragon's Roars, carrying the endless venom of betrayal, tore at his Divine Soul.
The mournful cries of the Divine Phoenix contained the despair of Nirvana Fire being extinguished, scorching his Dao Heart.
First Qilin's undying killing intent turned into the purest demonic sound, trying to make him lose himself completely and become a madman who knew only slaughter.
Any Grand Unity Golden Immortal subjected to such torment would have suffered a complete collapse of the Dao Heart and destruction of the Divine Soul within three breaths.
Yang Chen's eyes began to lose focus uncontrollably.
The muscles in his face twitched in agony, and his body began to tremble violently like a sieve.
He knew that his brief, silent provocation might have been nothing more than the final ridiculous struggle of an ant before death in the eyes of these Sages who had lived through countless epochs.
They would not believe him.
They would not believe that anyone, in such a hopeless situation, would still think of bargaining for survival.
They would only wait for him to be completely crushed by this immeasurable karma and Heavenly Might, reduced to an empty shell without self-awareness. Then they would act and thoroughly purify him, this "Karma Vessel."
So he could not wait any longer.
He could not simply flip the table. That would be too abrupt and would only invite the fiercest thunderous strike.
He needed an opportunity.
An opportunity that would make every lofty creditor believe without question.
An opportunity that would make them believe he had truly reached his limit, that he truly "couldn't go on living."
He had to act.
Using every scheme he had learned across two lives, and his deepest understanding of human nature, he would put on a performance capable of deceiving the Heavenly Dao and the Sages alike... a Dao Heart collapse!
This thought, like the coldest venomous serpent, coiled deep within his heart, which had been seized by icy madness.
The next moment.
The last trace of clarity and reason in Yang Chen's eyes completely "went out."
He released the final shred of protection over his Divine Soul, allowing the endless negative emotions to swallow him in an instant like black floodwaters bursting through a broken dam.
"Aah—!"
A howl unlike any human sound, filled with utter pain and despair, exploded from the depths of his throat.
He clutched his head fiercely, curled into himself, and rolled and convulsed in agony across the ground covered in immortal grasses and precious flowers.
"Why!"
"Why me!"
His voice was hoarse and shrill, every word carrying blood-weeping grief and fury, filled with the most vicious accusation against fate.
"I only wanted to cultivate peacefully! I only wanted to attain immortality through the Dao! What did I ever do wrong!"
He smashed his head wildly against the hard ground, producing dull bang bang sounds.
He pounded the earth beneath him with his fists, every strike using all his strength. The flesh on his knuckles split open at once, and blood mixed with black karmic energy, corroding the immortal grass beneath him into a patch of scorched earth.
But he could not feel the pain.
Or rather, the pain of his body had long been completely drowned out by the endless torment from the depths of his soul.
His performance was so real.
Because he did not need to "act" out pain at all.
He only needed to reveal, without reservation, one ten-thousandth of the real pain he was enduring, and it was enough to move any living being and fill them with dread.
The sight before his eyes had completely transformed into a hell of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
At his ears, only the endless wails and curses of countless dead souls remained.
His Dao Heart, battered by that endless karma, was letting out a grievous cry as cracks spread under the unbearable burden.
"Too tired..."
His roar gradually became a low, meaningless murmur.
"Really... too tired..."
His rolling stopped, and his whole body went limp in the shallow pit he had smashed into the ground, as though every bone had been pulled from him.
His chest heaved violently. Every breath was like the laboring gasp of a dying bellows, difficult and faint.
The last light in his eyes dimmed bit by bit.
In the end, it became a dead, ashen gray devoid of any hope.
As though all his will, all his hope, and all his vitality had been utterly ground down, swallowed, and consumed by the karma of the Immeasurable Tribulation.
This scene escaped no one's eyes.
It was sensed with absolute clarity by the Heavenly Dao high above the nine heavens.
It was also fully observed by the six supreme wills spanning the universe.
Within the Jade Void Palace on Eastern Kunlun Mountain, that cold and majestic will merely "watched" indifferently, without the slightest ripple. In his view, this had always been the destined outcome. An anomaly tainted by filth possessed a Dao Heart that was inherently fragile; its collapse was only natural.
Within Biyou Palace on Golden Ao Island in the East Sea, that incomparably sharp aura of slaughter receded slightly. Sovereign of Heaven waited for the moment when this source of karma completely lost the ability to resist, so he could destroy it with thunderous methods and eliminate all future trouble.
Beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, within Wa Huang Palace, that trace of compassion became even stronger, yet also more helpless. She saw a living being about to perish, but because of a Sage's duty, she could not act to save him.
Mount Sumeru in the West. Those two calculating wills now seemed somewhat "regretful." What they regretted was not Yang Chen's death, but that such an excellent "Karma Vessel" was about to be completely ruined, unable to contribute its final measure of value to the great aspiration of the Western Teachings.
At Eight Sceneries Palace on Shouyang Mountain, the will of supreme nonaction remained as still as an ancient well. Life and death, in its view, were merely ordinary stages in the operation of the Great Dao. The appearance of this anomaly had been a variable, while his destruction would return everything to the proper course of "nonaction."
In the perception of the Heavenly Dao and the Six Sages, this unfortunate fellow who had inherited all of Rahula's karma had finally failed to endure.
His Dao Heart had already collapsed.
His True Spirit was about to be annihilated.
Only one final step remained before his complete, irreversible destruction.
This was normal.
This was only natural.
This was the sole and inevitable outcome.
Yet they did not know that this was merely the prelude to a world-shaking gamble Yang Chen had carefully prepared.
Before you continue