After his marriage, Linley did not stay long in the Yulan Empire.
After the wedding banquet, he went to see Doehring. Doehring was still the same indifferent person, only reminding him to be careful on the road and not to be reckless in any situation, before waving him away. As he parted, the old man watched his retreating figure and sighed almost imperceptibly, as if relieved but also reluctant to let him go.
Linley led Delia, Bebe, and Haeru back to the Baruch Mountain Range.
The days that followed flowed by like water, and ten years passed in the blink of an eye.
For the past decade, Linley has devoted most of his attention to the Baruch Mountain Range. When he was away, this chaotic land was managed by Wharton, but ultimately, it was a fragmented and intricately divided territory, with various factions vying for power and none willing to submit to the others. Over the course of ten years, Linley led his troops on campaigns to the east and west, subjugating the various forces entrenched in the Baruch Mountain Range one by one, either forcing them to surrender or form alliances, and ultimately transforming this originally fragmented and chaotic land into a unified kingdom.
The Baruch Kingdom.
On the day of the founding of the kingdom, the entire kingdom was decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations, and crowds thronged the mountain city. Wharton, as the head of the royal family, sat on the throne and received the congratulations of the tribal leaders. Linley, the number one contributor to the conquest of this land, did not sit on that chair—he simply stood in the crowd, watching Wharton sit on that high platform, his eyes as calm as a deep pool of water.
"Third brother, you've pushed your older brother onto the throne while you hide on the sidelines," Reynolds said, walking over with a wine bowl and teasing him with a smile.
" Wharton is more composed than me; he's cut out for that chair," Linley said calmly, taking the drink. "I have my own path to walk."
Reynolds looked into his eyes and didn't try to persuade him further. Having followed Linley in conquering the world for so many years, he had long seen that what this third brother cared about was never just the power of this kingdom.
During these ten years, Linley never stopped his spiritual practice, even in the gaps between his duties in governing the country.
The memory of being driven to the brink of despair by two Peak Saint Realm that night was like a thorn constantly pricking his heart. He knew more clearly than ever before that his abilities were still far from sufficient. So during the day he handled military affairs and managed the kingdom, and at night he would practice his swordsmanship, meditate, and contemplate in an open space on the mountaintop.
He had long understood the Tempos of the Wind. But what truly propelled him to new heights over the past decade was another, deeper path— the Pulsation.
This all started with his understanding of the Laws of the Earth. The bloodline of the Dragonblood Warrior was inextricably linked to the earth. Linley gradually realized that the power of the earth was not entirely in its heaviness, but in the continuous, layered Pulsation. The fluctuations of the soil, the tremors of the mountains, and even every inch of the ground he stood on all contained some kind of pattern.
He tried to grasp the pattern. At first, he could only vaguely hear the deep, muffled throbbing of the earth, like the heartbeat of an ancient beast. He followed the throbbing, sinking down, one beat, two beats... and slowly he began to understand.
During those ten years, Linley's understanding of Pulsation was like climbing a mountain with no end.
At first, there were only a few levels, then dozens, and after that, every step forward became as difficult as climbing to the heavens. He often sat quietly for half the night, just for that one moment of enlightenment. Sometimes he felt he had grasped it, but the next moment it slipped through his fingers. But he was stubborn; once he set his mind on a path, he refused to turn back.
Until the tenth year, on a winter night with the first snow.
Linley stood alone on the mountaintop, facing the swirling snow, and slowly closed his eyes, letting the Pulsation he had comprehended over the years sink into his heart again and again. One layer, two layers, three layers... those pulses surged up in his body layer upon layer, like an inexhaustible torrent deep underground.
He counted down the layers one by one, until he broke through the barrier again after the eightieth or ninetieth layer.
One hundred and twenty-eight layers.
In that instant, Linley suddenly opened his eyes. There was nothing unusual about his aura, but he knew that it was a completely different kind of perfection— the Pulsation of the earth was completely connected within his body, with 128 endless rebirths, without end or flaw.
He looked down at his hands, which were covered in dragon scales. For the past ten years, he had deliberately suppressed the urge to Dragonblood Warrior Transformation, honing his cultivation bit by bit in his most ordinary human form. Now, with all 128 Pulsation fully connected, he had steadily stepped into the Saint Realm without needing to transform.
He didn't make a sound. He simply stood in the swirling snow, holding the Purple Blood Soft Sword that had been with him for ten years, quietly feeling the unprecedented, smooth, and complete power within his body.
After a long silence, he whispered, "Grandpa Doehring, I've finally found a path you were talking about."
The kingdom continued to operate according to its established order. Under Wharton's rule, the Baruch Kingdom gradually stabilized, all the tribes were won over, and peace prevailed both inside and outside the mountain city. Linley lived in a stone house atop the mountain, so simple it was almost shabby. Apart from a sword, an ancient book, and Bebe who was always by his side, he had nothing else.
Ten years have passed, and he hasn't aged much, but the depth in his eyes has become much more profound than before.
That night, he returned to the house and saw Delia waiting for him under the oil lamp, with a pot of warmed wine on the table. He went over, said nothing, and simply sat down beside her, gently placing his calloused hand on hers.
"Are you done with your work?" she asked.
"Hmm." Linley looked at her. "We've made some progress on this path."
The snow fell silently outside the window. He thought back on these years, from that clueless boy who stumbled into the Mountain Range of Magical Beasts to the Dragonblood Warrior now wields 128 Pulsation and can step into the Saint Realm upon reaching the Human Form Realm—he had walked this path for a long time. But he knew in his heart that the Saint Realm was just the beginning. The real world behind him was still very vast.