Chapter 465: Thousands of Lives

Thunder roared!!

Lightning crashed down like the arrival of apocalypse.

Instantly, everyone in the area witnessed a hazy silhouette stepping out from a house, treading on air toward the void. Thousands of Chains binding him were torn apart by overwhelming force. Lightning strikes left no marks on his body. Two border-guarding Elders from the Totem Tribe flew toward the disturbance, but lost their external power source mid-flight and plummeted downward.

“What happened? Why is there no Power of the Totem here?”

These Totem Tribe Elders were supreme beings of the Endless Realm. Though their perfected bodies suffered no injury from the fall, the sudden power loss made them crash embarrassingly. Normally, their stored energy would’ve prevented such a humiliating descent.

“It’s spreading beyond this area…” The other Elder felt the phenomenon expanding.

“Will it drain the Power of the Totem from our entire world?”

“Impossible! Not even King-level ancestors could…”

Both froze mid-sentence, faces twisting with disbelief.

If King-level failed…

What about Imperial Level?

Ancient texts described heaven’s colors shifting and all laws vanishing when an Emperor emerged. They finally understood those words. Yet how? The Totem Tribe’s ancestors had declared this world incapable of sustaining Imperial Level existences. Even King-level power was fading – soon it might become mere legend. For someone to reach Imperial Level under these conditions seemed like pure fantasy.

In distant Totem Tribe lands, their dying ancestor opened clouded eyes, gazing toward the calamity’s epicenter.

“Imperial Level…?”

Every King-level strong individual worldwide sensed it simultaneously. Being nearest to Imperial Level, they felt the cosmic shift most acutely.

Zuo Meng ignored these ripples.

After eras of Closed Door Meditation in the Dream Realm, he’d witnessed ten epochs and discovered extraction – stealing a world’s power to break through. Others in the Dream Realm had succeeded, escaping to higher planes as saints’ disciples. With their examples, Zuo Meng refused to wait longer in this suffocating world.

Sky’s Pressure intensified.

Another lightning bolt struck.

This time Zuo Meng didn’t dodge. He snatched the thunder from air.

Zzzt! The electric arc writhed like trapped vermin in his grip, its Distortion energy straining to pierce his flesh. Useless. His fingers clenched, obliterating what even King-level experts would fear.

“Heaven’s Dawn!”

A golden silhouette nine-tenths his likeness erupted from Zuo Meng’s form.

The colossal figure stood beneath firmament, seizing the heavenly Chains of logic itself – rules made physical. This Daoist manifestation represented his second breakthrough method, forged through endless study.

BOOM!

The golden silhouette gripped the Chains for three breaths… then ripped them apart bare-handed. Channeling nearly a world’s entire strength, it tore open an ascending path.

Limitless energy flooded down, lifting Zuo Meng’s long-suppressed cultivation.

“Now comes the true trial – world’s vengeance.”

As creator, Zuo Meng knew worlds intimately. Though this bamboo scroll world differed from others, its core remained. Sure enough, alongside ascension energy came invisible forces ordinary people couldn’t perceive – critical yet dangerous energies needing subjugation to reach Imperial Level.

“World memories, then…”

Zuo Meng’s consciousness blurred, drowning in fabricated recollections spun by the world itself.

Jumping out led to the Imperial Level.

Succumbing meant turning to dust, returning to the earth.

“Xiao Meng, Xiao Meng…”

The familiar voice belonged to this body’s mother, his only cherished relative across lifetimes. He awoke once more in the small village, though the Power of the Totem had vanished. Beyond lay not tribal lands but a sprawling feudal dynasty. This time, Zuo Meng forgot deeper truths—even his identity as a creator. He married, raised children, and fretted over mundane matters like ordinary folk. The woman lived contentedly, departing surrounded by grandchildren. Even Uncle Dayou reached his nineties, their families joined by marriage.

After an unremarkable lifetime, Zuo Meng’s soul entered the cycle again.

Life after life, reincarnation after reincarnation.

Memories eroded completely. He no longer recalled his true self. The power of the “real” world proved more terrifying than he’d ever imagined.

The 3,200th life.

A modern metropolis. Zuo Meng worked as an undercover cop infiltrating a drug cartel. The police had planted many operatives, but he’d climbed closest to the core. Today, the boss summoned them to the docks to punish a traitor. When Zuo Meng arrived with his gang brothers, the betrayer already lay battered beyond human semblance.

Boss Luo Kun lit bamboo incense, bowed thrice before a deity statue.

“Thirty million in product—gone.”

He planted the incense in the burner.

“How should I deal with you?”

“Boss… please…” The underling clutched Luo Kun’s pants, face swollen. “They forced me!”

“You break it, you buy it.”

Luo Kun stared coldly at the grasping hands.

“Ah Meng. Cleanup duty.”

“Got it, Luo Ge.”

Zuo Meng took the blood-crusted iron pipe. The traitor wheezed wetly. He raised the weapon, mentally whispering apology.

*Thud.*

“Ah Meng.” Luo Kun lit a cigarette at the docks. “How long’ve you been with me?”

“Seven years. Nine months.”

Zuo Meng kept his tone neutral. The boss checked his watch, snuffed the cigarette on a railing.

“Wish I could keep you.” Luo Kun smiled. “Pity.”

Eight men materialized with machetes. Luo Kun already stood yards away by a black sedan.