Think the lightning tribulation isn't big enough? This Venerable One will send you a Heaven-Opening Divine Thunder to taste.

Ten thousand miles away, at Tiandang Mountain, Taixu Temple.

The concentration of spiritual energy within the Stone Chamber had reached a terrifying level—it was no longer flowing; it was condensing.

Fine particles of spiritual energy hung suspended in mid-air, visible to the naked eye, each one slowly drifting toward the white-clad figure on the prayer mat.

Shen Yichen sat cross-legged.

His posture was identical to the day he emerged from seclusion—one leg resting over the other, hands placed on his knees, his spine straight but not rigid.

Not a speck of dust touched his white robes from collar to hem, a simple white jade hairpin secured his topknot, and a few stray locks of hair hanging by his temples remained perfectly still.

His eyes were slightly closed.

His breathing was so long and drawn out that it was almost imperceptible.

His entire being had merged with the heavens and earth, making it impossible to distinguish where he ended and Tiandang Mountain began.

But his divine sense was not here.

—Or rather, it was not only here.

With a cultivation at the Half-Step Great Dao, the range covered by his divine sense far exceeded the imagination of worldly cultivators.

Every inch of land on the Douluo Continent, every reef on Sea God Island, and even the void beyond the plane's barrier were all within his perception.

Everything that occurred on the nine-story pagoda of the Asura God Hall, from the gathering of that purple-black orb of light to the devouring of the Asura Blade—not a single frame was missed, all captured within his divine sense.

The right corner of Shen Yichen's mouth twitched.

The movement was infinitesimal.

It was not a smile. It was a sense of... languor, like watching an ant brandish a dewdrop as a weapon.

"Increase the lightning tribulation?"

The two words slipped through his lips, light as air, not even disturbing a single particle of spiritual energy in the Stone Chamber.

"Truly overestimating oneself."

The latter half of the sentence was even softer. It was so light that it dissolved into the silence of the Stone Chamber, mingling with centuries of Daoist aura until the two were indistinguishable.

The Asura God.

One of the supreme war gods of the God Realm, the Asura Blade forged from ten thousand years of slaughter, the endless killing intent suppressed by the nine-story pagoda—in the eyes of lower-realm cultivators, that was an existence not even worthy of being looked up to.

But Shen Yichen was no lower-realm cultivator.

Half-Step Great Dao.

This realm had no coordinates within the cognitive system of the entire Douluo Continent—no one had reached it, no texts had recorded it, and no one had even imagined it.

Beyond the God King.

He was only one step away from the Supreme Grand Perfection.

That step was "tempering the heart in the mortal world."

It was not a lack of cultivation, nor a deficiency in magic power; it was that his Dao heart required one final layer of refinement.

And the Asura God—

A mere God King-level existence dared to bring down a divine punishment upon his woman?

And tripled it at that?

Shen Yichen slowly raised his right hand.

The movement was slow to the extreme.

It lifted from his knee, passed before his abdomen, and finally stopped at the height of his chest.

His five fingers were loosely spread, his index finger slightly extended forward.

Then—

His fingertip lit up.

A ray of light. An extremely thin, fine ray, thinner than a strand of hair.

Purple-gold.

It was not purple, nor was it gold; it was a third color born from the intertwining of purple and gold.

Intense, pure, and containing not a single impurity.

That ray of light seeped out from beneath the skin of his fingertip, hovering an inch above his fingernail.

There was no sound.

There was no fluctuation.

There was not even any leakage of aura.

But the Stone Chamber changed.

Cracks appeared on the bluestone floor beneath the prayer mat—they did not extend from his fingertip; the bluestone itself could not withstand the "existence" of that light and shattered on its own.

The cracks spread from the base of the prayer mat in all directions, silent and soundless, inch by inch, until the entire floor of the Stone Chamber had shattered into a spiderweb pattern within three breaths.

The Daoist patterns remaining on the walls all flared to life.

The markings, which had been dim for over a hundred years, reactivated the instant that wisp of purple-gold light appeared—not lighting up gradually, but exploding into brilliance all at once, illuminating the entire Stone Chamber.

The space outside the Stone Chamber was twisting. Visibly twisting.

In Spirit Crane Valley behind Taixu Temple, the white cranes resting there took flight in alarm all at once.

Dozens of spirit cranes flapped their wings and soared into the sky, circling the valley entrance three times while emitting a series of sharp cries—not out of fright, but because they sensed a power that should not exist in this world.

The branches and leaves of ancient trees shook violently despite the lack of wind.

The water in the mountain stream flowed backward for twenty feet.

The sea of clouds surrounding the main peak surged, transforming from gentle white into a rapid vortex.

And all of this was caused by merely a single wisp of light.

A wisp of purple-gold lightning as thin as a hair on his fingertip.

Shen Yichen looked down at his fingertip.

A hint of something appeared in his listless eyes—not seriousness, but boredom.

How much effort did the Asura God expend? Gathering divine power, infusing the Asura Blade, and increasing the original lightning tribulation to three times its magnitude.

The entire Asura God Hall had been left humming with vibration, forcing even the attending divine officials to retreat half a step.

And he—

One finger. One wisp of light.

No channeling of energy, no activation, no sense of ritual whatsoever.

What seeped from his fingertip was no different from a breath.

"I await your divine punishment lightning tribulation."

Shen Yichen turned his index finger slightly, and the wisp of purple-gold lightning followed, tracing a very short arc at his fingertip.

Where the arc passed, space split open—not large, only the thickness of a chopstick, but what was revealed in the crack was the void beyond the plane barrier.

Pitch-black, icy, endless void.

Torn open casually by a wisp of lightning.

"And I shall return to you a Heaven-Opening Divine Thunder."

The spatial rift healed itself after persisting for a single breath.

The restorative power of the plane barrier was extremely strong, but the scar left behind was clearly visible—a faint, almost imperceptible purple-gold mark embedded in the void above the Stone Chamber.

Shen Yichen lifted his eyelids.

He glanced at the scar without any further reaction.

Comparing the divine lightning condensed from centuries of killing intent stored in the Asura Blade to the Heaven-Opening Divine Thunder of the Celestial Master Sect?

The Asura God likely did not understand one thing—the lightning techniques of the Celestial Master Sect were not cultivated post-natally. They were bestowed by heaven and earth.

The lightning that struck the first ray of light out of the primordial chaos was called "Heaven-Opening."

Innate lightning technique, the root of the Dao.

Before it, all post-natal lightning arts were merely inferior.

Including the Asura Divine Thunder.

"I would like to see—"

Shen Yichen withdrew his finger.

The wisp of purple-gold lightning lingered on his fingertip for one last moment before dissipating silently.

The Stone Chamber returned to silence. The cracks on the floor remained, and the reactivated Daoist patterns on the walls were still glowing, but the oppressive force that had caused the heavens and earth to change color had vanished completely.

Cleanly, without a trace left behind.

His control was so effortless it was beyond comprehension.

"Whether your Asura Divine Thunder is stronger—"

Shen Yichen closed his eyes again. He rested his hand back on his knee, his posture not a hair different from before.

"Or if my Heaven-Opening Divine Thunder is superior."

The tail end of the last few words was drawn out slightly, carrying a languor that no one else could ever imitate.

It was not a provocation.

Provocation is an act that only exists between equals.

This was the echo of the upstream to the downstream.

It was the indifferent, three-word verdict of an existence at the half-step of the Great Dao toward a God-King level Asura God—

It doesn't matter.

The Stone Chamber returned to deathly silence.

Shen Yichen's breathing became long and steady once more, the rise and fall of his chest barely perceptible.

His entire being merged with the world again, resonating with the spiritual veins of Tiandang Mountain and syncing with the energy of the firmament.

Outside Taixu Temple.

The sky was clear for ten thousand miles.

Sunlight poured down from above the main peak, piercing through the branches and leaves of ancient trees to cast fragmented spots of light upon the bluestone path.

The white cranes of Spirit Crane Valley returned to their nests, the water in the mountain streams resumed its normal flow, and the sea of clouds returned to a gentle calm.

Everything was exactly as it had been just moments before.

But—

High, high above Tiandang Mountain. Deep within the cloud layer, far beyond the reach of the naked eye.

Lightning flickered.

It was not a bolt of lightning.

A lightning bolt dissipates the moment it strikes, but this did not.

A purple-gold light pulsed between the fissures of the clouds, brightening and dimming, brightening and dimming, in a rhythm that was slow and steady.