Alas, fate toyed with him. He had stumbled into Slaughter City, fallen victim to the Nine-Headed Bat King's scheme, had all his cultivation shackled and his divine soul eroded, and been trapped for a full century, wasting away the years.
He had thought that he could only die trapped in that purgatory for the rest of his life, forever cut off from the divine path and reduced to dust in the river of time.
Yet he had never expected to find life in the depths of despair. Borrowing a wisp of the Holy King's remaining divinity, he had defied fate, broken free of every shackle, and successfully ascended to the hundredth-level divine realm!
Though it was not an orthodox inheritance, it was a genuine transformation into a god!
A complicated emotion flashed through Tang Chen's eyes—joy, relief, and a faint trace of regret.
He was joyful that his century-long obsession had finally been fulfilled, relieved that he had broken free from the shackles of fate, and regretful that this was not the Asura path he had originally pursued.
But now, he had become a god. All the humiliation and unwillingness of the past had vanished like smoke.
The baleful aura of Slaughter City surged wildly toward him, all of it absorbed and refined by his divine body. Even the laws of heaven and earth quietly yielded before him.
Countless fallen soul masters stranded below trembled violently, prostrating themselves on the ground without daring to raise their heads.
The pressure of a god, the suppression of rank—before mortal soul masters, it was an absolute, insurmountable chasm. There was no possibility of resistance.
Hovering in the air above, Tang San was completely dumbfounded.
He stared blankly at his grandfather below, whose bearing was transcendent and divine might imposing. A monstrous wave rose