Chapter 334: Twin Masks! Creating a Mechanical Race Avatar, the Vanguard

Chapter 334: The Twin Masks! Forging a Mechanical Avatar, the Vanguard! Lei Sacrifices His Cultivation!

It was the one hundred and third year since Qin Feng ascended to rule his fiefdom.

Yet for the Qin Feng Universe City and the seven hundred cosmic nations under its banner, this century had been a golden age of order, a time when the foundations of law were firmly laid.

Driven by the dual forces of Qin Feng’s iron-fisted statutes and his lavish rewards, a new power structure—centered on an AI network and executed by figures like the Sovereigns of Red Feather and Qiantian—had begun to operate with the efficiency of a precision instrument.

Internal rebellions and strife were thoroughly purged, while external trade routes and resource extraction expanded at an unprecedented pace.

The name of Qin Feng had long since evolved from a symbol of a terrifying "god of slaughter" into the absolute totem of faith for this entire star sector.

However, as the architect of all this, Qin Feng himself seemed to have evaporated from the universe; for a full hundred years, he had not appeared in public even once.

Save for a tiny circle of core members, no one knew that this young lord was, in the deepest recesses of his universe city, engaged in a creation of earth-shattering proportions.

Qin Feng Universe City, the City Lord’s Mansion.

The interior of the sanctuary was enough to overturn the understanding of any master craftsman.

There were no roaring forge fires, no deafening sounds of hammers striking metal.

What met the eye was a vast, boundless expanse, an absolute vacuum reminiscent of the universe at the dawn of time.

The temperature was precisely controlled to remain infinitely close to absolute zero, and not even a speck of dust could linger here.

In the center of the sanctuary floated a massive sphere, over ten thousand kilometers in diameter.

It was not a physical object, but a construct of trillions of pure psionic runes, arranged according to an unfathomably profound logic.

Inside the sphere, gravity, repulsion, and the strong and weak nuclear forces were being micro-adjusted by the AI’s terrifying computational power—trillions of quadrillions per second—down to the infinite decimal point, creating a perfect, dust-free, and interference-free forging space.

The walls of the sanctuary were not cold steel or rock, but flowing liquid metal as smooth as a mirror. Across the surface, countless data streams cascaded like waterfalls, calculating complex formulas of billion-fold magnitude in real-time.

It was the top-tier AI cluster under Qin Feng’s command, performing final parameter checks and calculating the optimal alloy ratios and the sequence of array inscriptions for the great project about to begin.

In the air, though the environment had been evacuated to a vacuum, a strange "scent" permeated the space.

It was a unique aroma born from the essence of matter, combined with highly condensed psionic particles.

Within this space, every breath seemed to draw the purest cosmic origin energy directly into the body, cleansing both soul and flesh.

At the core of the runic psionic sphere in the center of the sanctuary, a figure sat cross-legged: Qin Feng, who had been in seclusion for a hundred years.

His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, and his pure-black quality spiritual power surged out like a tide, merging perfectly with the operating system of the entire sanctuary.

He was adjusting, bringing his own state and the state of the entire sanctuary to the most perfect, peak level theoretically achievable.

Finally, after an unknown amount of time, Qin Feng’s eyes snapped open. They were eyes of profound depth, pitch-black as the night, yet seemingly containing the ultimate mysteries of the universe’s birth, death, and the cycle of all things.

"A century of preparation, today it is accomplished."

His low voice, transmitted through the vibration of spiritual power, carried clearly to every corner of the vacuum.

The moment the words fell, he moved his mind, and his storage space burst open.

In an instant, it was as if stars had collapsed and mountains had toppled.

Rare metals, each the size of a mountain, emerged from the void, floating silently around Qin Feng, each carrying a heart-stopping, terrifying weight and its own unique aura of laws.

Among them was a metal that appeared a dreamy, starry blue, its surface seemingly home to billions of stars slowly rotating, being born, and dying.

It was "Star Memory Gold," a miracle substance said to be born near the singularity of the Big Bang, possessing near-immortal self-repairing properties.

Any damage inflicted upon it would be restored to its original state by its internal "memory" in the shortest possible time.

This was a trophy Qin Feng had stripped from the remains of a God-Forbidden level Mechanical Clan prodigy within the Isle of Dead Meteors; its value alone was enough to move a Sovereign.

Beside it lay a mass of silver substance flowing like liquid moonlight, emitting an ethereal and pure aura, as if it did not belong to the reality of this dimension.

This was "Void Secret Silver," with a psionic conductivity efficiency of nearly one hundred percent, almost devoid of loss; it was the supreme divine material for constructing top-tier psionic cores and array circuits.

Further away, a pitch-black metal, thousands of kilometers in diameter yet emitting a terrifying gravity capable of warping light, floated silently.

Any one of these materials, taken alone, would be enough to trigger a frantic bidding war among countless powerhouses at a cosmic auction.

Yet now, vast resources capable of arming a top-tier race were gathered here, all for the birth of a single creation.

Looking at the scene before him, which would drive any grandmaster craftsman to madness, Qin Feng’s eyes remained as calm as an ancient well.

He did not summon any divine fire, nor did he use any tools.

For he himself was the most powerful "divine fire" and the most precise "tool" in this world.

"Begin."

A simple syllable escaped his lips.

In an instant, his spiritual power, which had reached the legendary "pure black quality," erupted like a sluice gate opening on a celestial river!

It was no longer an intangible thought, but a torrent of pure black, nearly materialized.

The moment the torrent appeared, it divided into trillions of psionic tentacles, as thin as hair yet incredibly tough. At the tip of each tentacle flickered the wisdom of one who perceives the essence of matter.

These trillions of spiritual tentacles lunged precisely at the various divine metals and exotic irons floating in the air.

There were no earth-shattering explosions, no cataclysmic psionic clashes.

There was only the ultimate, microscopic penetration and decomposition.

Qin Feng’s spiritual tentacles easily pierced the seemingly indestructible outer structures of the metals, reaching directly into the most core, fundamental atomic level.

"Break."

He moved his mind again.

The tips of those tentacles erupted with an invisible yet irresistible vibrational frequency.

This was a process that was extremely brutal, yet required the most delicate control.

It was brutal because it forcibly erased the inherent "attributes" and "laws" of matter at its most fundamental level, reducing it to its purest, most primitive particle state.

It was delicate because this process had to be flawless.

Any waste of psionic energy, any accidental damage to an atomic structure, could lead to flaws in the perfection of the final product. For Qin Feng, who pursued the "limit," any flaw was intolerable.

It was a process that was incredibly tedious and mentally exhausting.

Qin Feng’s consciousness was split into trillions of parts at this moment, processing trillions of different pieces of information simultaneously.

He was like the most rigorous monarch, inspecting every decomposed atom, ensuring it was in the most perfect state of "readiness."

Time lost its meaning in this moment.

Outside the sanctuary, the stars shifted and the seasons turned.

One year, five years, ten years...

A full thirty years of time slipped away in this silent decomposition and reshaping.

One day, thirty years later, in the center of the sanctuary, the countless mountain-sized metal materials had vanished.

In their place was a colorful nebula composed of trillions of different types of the purest atomic particles.

Qin Feng’s face was slightly pale, but his eyes were brighter than ever.

The first step, and the most time-consuming one, was complete.

"Shape."

He uttered the second word.

The atomic nebula, silent for thirty years, boiled in an instant!

Under the precise guidance of Qin Feng’s mental power, these atoms of varying divine metals and distinct properties began to reorganize in a novel, unprecedented fashion.

His hands traced slow arcs before him, as if sketching an invisible blueprint upon the void.

Following his movements, the atomic nebula churned and condensed.

First the skull, then the spine, followed by the limbs and every skeletal structure...

A humanoid frame, shimmering with a dark golden luster, was created "out of thin air" within this absolute vacuum. Its proportions and dimensions were identical to Qin Feng’s true form, accurate to the slightest fraction.

At every joint, a natural, innate Daoist rhythm pulsed, as if it were destined to be so.

Once the skeleton took shape, there followed the muscle-like spiritual energy conduits, the inner armor covering the body like a second skin, and finally, the sleek, dark outer battle-shell, radiating both power and aesthetic grace.

The entire molding process consumed another twenty years of time.

When the final component was assembled, a "man" of the same height and appearance as Qin Feng, eyes closed and forged entirely from an unknown dark metal, floated silently before him.

It was like a perfect work of art, serene and profound, yet harboring within it a terrifying power capable of shattering the heavens and destroying the earth.

Qin Feng took a deep breath and began the third, most critical step—the imprinting of the arrays.

He extended a finger and touched the center of the mechanical body’s brow.

Then, using his finger as a brush and his mental power as ink, he began to etch the core arrays within the vessel.

The first array he imprinted was the ultimate manifestation of his own Dao, that supreme secret art he had long since mastered and integrated into his very marrow—the [Limitless Array]!

This was no mere duplication, but a creative miniaturization and reconstruction.

Countless runes, smaller than atoms, flowed from his fingertips, precisely branded onto the inner side of every metal bone, layered within every plate of armor, and fixed at every node of the spiritual energy circuits.

These runes interconnected to form tiny array units, which in turn coalesced into a magnificent, body-wide array map perfectly attuned to this vessel.

As the final rune fell, the entire mechanical body shuddered. An invisible, indestructible barrier of Daoist rhythm flickered across its surface.

The [Limitless Array] was successfully implanted!

This meant that from the moment of its birth, this body possessed the same terrifying "invulnerability to all laws" as Qin Feng’s true form.

Immediately after, Qin Feng pressed his palms together, and when he pulled them apart, he held a sphere of spiritual light so hot and violent it seemed capable of incinerating the universe.

The [Furnace Array]!

"Go!"

Qin Feng flicked his finger, and the light sphere transformed into a streak of radiance, plunging precisely into the chest of the mechanical body.

There, he had long reserved a core energy chamber.

The moment the sphere entered, it connected perfectly with the spiritual circuits, becoming an eternal "heart" capable of drawing endless energy from the void.

The two great arrays, one for defense and one for power, were perfectly compatible, serving as each other’s foundation.

Thus, the "Dao" of this body was forged. It possessed an unbreakable "form" and an inexhaustible "force."

The entire imprinting process took another forty-nine years.

Only one year remained of the century-long deadline.

Qin Feng looked at this masterpiece, the culmination of his life’s work, with a hint of satisfaction. But he knew the most critical and perilous step had only just begun.

He had to infuse this perfect shell with a true "soul."

Qin Feng slowly closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the deepest reaches of his soul ocean.

There, a primitive, mysterious mask, seemingly woven from light and shadow, floated in silence.

A cosmic wonder—the [Twin Mask]!

Its core ability was not merely the creation of clones, but the perfect division and synchronization of the soul!

"Split!"

Qin Feng’s soul origin let out a cry from the very depths of his being.

The [Twin Mask] trembled violently, and then, amidst a mysterious and unfathomable radiance, it slowly divided in two.

One half remained a pure white, representing "life" and "truth."

The other half turned a pitch-black, representing "death" and "illusion."

The instant the mask split, Qin Feng felt as if his soul had been precisely sliced down the middle by an invisible blade.

The sensation defied description; it was not pain, but a strange feeling of "I" being perfectly duplicated.

His consciousness, in that moment, naturally split into two completely independent yet telepathically linked perspectives.

"Merge."

Qin Feng’s intent stirred.

The black half of the mask transformed into a streak of light, flew from his brow, and imprinted itself with absolute precision onto the brow of the mechanical body, before slowly melting away and vanishing.

The white half returned to the depths of his true soul, merging completely until the two were indistinguishable.

As the black and white masks settled into their respective places, an ineffable connection, transcending the dimensions of matter and soul, was established with a roar!

Qin Feng felt his severed consciousness, like a wanderer finding home, instantly inject itself into that cold mechanical shell!

Hum—

A low chime, as if originating from the very source of the Dao, echoed throughout the temple.

The mechanical body, which had floated in silence for ninety-nine years, suddenly opened its eyes!

What shone forth was not cold, emotionless electronic light, but the same pure black radiance as Qin Feng’s true form, containing infinite depth and a domineering will!

It was alive!

Or rather, another "Qin Feng" was born.

"He" flexed his metal limbs, feeling the surging power within the alloy body, like a galloping galaxy.

The sensation was novel yet familiar, no different from the experience of a flesh-and-blood body, and in terms of pure physical defense and explosive force, it was even superior.

A peculiar scene unfolded in the temple.

Two identical "Qin Fengs," one of flesh, one of metal, stood facing each other, their gazes meeting. Their thoughts were synchronized; their wills were unified.

The next moment, Qin Feng’s true form and his mechanical avatar spoke in unison, their voices overlapping perfectly, neither preceding the other, echoing through the vast temple:

"From this day forth, you are named 'Vanguard,' stationed here as my foundation."

"Should I fall in the outside world, I shall use this body as an anchor to be reborn within this city."

As the words faded, a deep, sharp glint flashed in the eyes of Qin Feng’s true form.

His thoughts had already drifted toward the distant and unknown Furnace Village.

"Golden Emperor..."

He murmured the name in his heart. "A confidant of the Ancient Luo King’s legacy, perhaps even a fragmented inheritor himself. To obtain the complete legacy, he will inevitably strike at me. And for this opportunity, which could allow any existence to ascend in a single step, there may be other Emperor-level beings I am unaware of, lurking in the shadows."

"The journey to Furnace Village is a life-and-death gamble. That is no exaggeration."

Yet, in the next instant, he turned his gaze toward the "Vanguard" before him, a confident curve touching the corners of his lips.

"But now, with the Vanguard and the Twin Masks, my 'life' shall no longer be a desperate gamble where I stake everything I possess."

"It shall be, instead, a game played upon a table."

"A game where, as long as my foundation—the Vanguard—remains unextinguished, I can resurrect infinitely, returning to the table time and time again."

"This is the ultimate bedrock of my confidence, the reason I dare to act with such high profile, to cast myself into the fray, and to face any storm or slaughter head-on!"

With this, Qin Feng had forged the most solid and reliable insurance for the most perilous journey of his future.

The mechanical avatar known as "Vanguard" carried half of Qin Feng’s soul essence; it was his "rebirth beacon," an absolute sanctuary within this universe.

The core, the most critical technical foundation of his "faked death" escape plan, had been perfectly realized.

Previously, the mechanical creations Qin Feng forged relied on the mechanical race’s innate gifts; as long as the soul core remained intact, one could be reborn infinitely, yet this was bound by distance—once exceeded, rebirth became impossible.

But now, Qin Feng had expended his spirit to craft an entirely new physical body, and by channeling the Twin Masks to their limit, he had successfully birthed this avatar!

This avatar was immune to the constraints of distance!

Should Qin Feng fall in the infinitely distant Furnace Township, it would be of no consequence.

……

Qin Feng did not depart immediately.

Before embarking on this brand-new journey, fraught with variables, he had to thoroughly stabilize the rear he had built with his own hands—this vast private territory spanning over seven hundred cosmic nations.

This star sector was not merely a domain bestowed by the Human Saint Academy; it was a vital link in his future plans. It served as his testing ground for "ruling with an iron fist" and establishing his own order, as well as the training camp where he honed the massive AI network behind his God-Forbidden mechanical servants, "Thunderfire" and "Vanguard," thereby feeding back into himself and allowing his "pure black quality" mental power to advance without cease.

This place could not be lost, nor could it harbor any latent corruption stemming from the Chaos Gods.

And that sudden, shocking change during the wedding ceremony in the Linglu Cosmic Nation remained like a thorn, deeply embedded in Qin Feng’s heart.

Slaanesh’s seemingly "generous" blessing, that overt scheme known as the "Hook of Desire," possessed a strangeness and malice that sent a genuine chill through even Qin Feng, a man long accustomed to blood and slaughter.

Lei and Ling Yao, old acquaintances with whom he had shared history, were the most direct victims and test subjects of this scheme.

Their state was the perfect sample to examine the power of the "Hook."

Before leaving, Qin Feng had to confirm their condition with his own eyes and attempt to find a solution.

This was both to settle karma and to gain a deeper insight into the methods of the Evil Gods.

With a flicker of thought, Qin Feng’s figure vanished from the core meditation chamber of [Qin Feng Cosmic City].

Given his current strength, spanning the territories of dozens of cosmic nations was but a stone’s throw away.

……

Deep within the imperial palace of the Chiyu Cosmic Nation, inside a meditation chamber prepared for the most distinguished guests.

The chamber was elegantly appointed; the floor was paved with "Star-Veined Jade" to soothe the spirit, and the walls were inlaid with moonstones emitting a soft, gentle glow.

In the corner, an antique purple-gold incense burner sent up wisps of blue smoke, the result of burning "Tranquility Sandalwood" gathered from cosmic secret realms. The smoke drifted ethereally, carrying a fragrant scent that calmed the mind and cleansed the soul.

The entire space was enveloped in an atmosphere of peace and serenity.

Yet, this tranquility was stirred into turbulent undercurrents by the invisible pressure radiating from the two figures standing in the center of the room.

Lei and Princess Linglu—now to be called Ling Yao—stood side by side.

Compared to the day of their wedding, their auras had undergone a heaven-shaking transformation.

The surging power brought by the Evil God’s "blessing" that day had now been thoroughly stabilized and contained.

Even so, with every gesture, wisps of law-based energy lingered and flickered around them—a sign that their power was so immense that they had yet to achieve perfect control.

Their cultivation had firmly settled at the Black Hole level, and they were steadily advancing toward the realm of the Ultimate Black Hole.

Just then, the space within the chamber rippled like the surface of water, and Qin Feng’s figure appeared before them without warning.

He seemed to have been standing there all along, perfectly integrated with the space itself, without causing the slightest ripple of spiritual energy.

"Senior Qin Feng!"

Lei and Ling Yao’s hearts skipped a beat; they bowed in unison, their expressions filled with indescribable, complex emotions.

There was heartfelt awe—the fear and worship of the supreme power Qin Feng had displayed when he instantly slew the Evil Bone Marquis and settled the fate of the world with a flick of his finger;

And there was a hidden, lingering unease, as if students who had performed poorly were facing a stern mentor.

Qin Feng did not speak immediately.

He simply stood there, his deep eyes appearing to transform into two voids of pure black cosmos.

There was no ripple of emotion, no oppressive aura, yet when his gaze fell upon Lei and Ling Yao, the two felt as if their souls had been stripped bare, seen through from within to without, leaving no secrets behind.

That pure black mental power, in its quality, had transcended the realms of matter and spiritual energy, becoming nearly a manifestation of the "Dao."

It flowed like mercury, penetrating every crevice, yet it was silent and gentle, carrying not a hint of aggression.

The first layer was their physical bodies.

Slaanesh’s power had altered their life essence, granting them vitality and recovery far beyond their peers—a combat vessel that could be called flawless.

The second layer was their Dao foundation.

The third layer, and the most core of all—their souls.

At this moment, Qin Feng’s brows finally furrowed, ever so slightly.

His mental power cautiously enveloped their soul essences, conducting the most minute investigation.

He saw the joy in their souls, their reliance on and intoxication with this sudden surge of power, and the burgeoning ambition born from their skyrocketing strength... but the only thing he did not see was any form of "corruption."

There were no whispers of Chaos, no brand of the Evil God, no twisted will, and no parasitic soul fissures.

Their souls were as clean as a blank sheet of paper, upon which someone had simply used the most magnificent brushstrokes to paint a beautiful picture titled "Power."

"……Flawless."

Qin Feng reached this conclusion in his heart, and it filled him with unprecedented gravity.

"Slaanesh’s methods are far more sophisticated and malicious than the direct corruption of Khorne, which is filled with slaughter and brutality."

"This is not pollution, nor is it control; it is a pure 'gift'."

"It truly left no backdoors or traps within this power, as if a supremely generous elder, holding high hopes for you, had selflessly bestowed their most precious treasure upon you, their junior."

"But this is precisely what makes it so terrifying."

For the true battlefield lies not in the flesh, not in the Dao foundation, and not even in the soul itself, but in that ethereal, intangible thing that determines how far a cultivator can go—the Dao Heart.

What Slaanesh sent was not a gift of power, but a potent poison capable of cracking any Dao Heart.

It attacks the most primitive desires and sloth within the cultivator.

When a person grows accustomed to reaping without sowing, they lose the patience to toil with their own hands.

When a person grows accustomed to rain falling from the heavens, they forget the hardship of digging a well to draw water.

This "blessing" is a hook, a hook baited with "desire." It does not drag you into the abyss immediately; instead, it makes you willingly, step by step, walk toward the cliff it has prepared for you.

The air in the chamber seemed to solidify under Qin Feng’s silence.

Lei and Ling Yao could hear their own hearts drumming like war drums.

Qin Feng’s gaze was calm, yet it pressed upon them with the weight of a mountain.

At last, Qin Feng shattered the suffocating silence. His voice remained level, devoid of joy or anger, yet every word struck the lakes of their hearts with the force of a thousand tons.

"The path of martial arts is like rowing against the current; if you do not advance, you recede."

"Every step you take must be trodden by your own feet; every ounce of power you wield must be earned through your own tempering in blood and fire."

"For the value of power lies not in its magnitude, but in the price you paid to obtain it and the indestructible Dao heart forged in the process."

He paused, his eyes sweeping slowly over their faces, capturing every subtle flicker of expression.

"A windfall from the heavens is often a poison wrapped in the sweetest honey."

"Its toxicity does not strike at once, nor does it bring immediate pain."

"On the contrary, it grants you a sense of pleasure and satisfaction you have never known before."

"But it will slowly, silently erode your will, making you forget the meaning of arduous cultivation, the brutality of life-and-death struggle, and the truth that the path of the strong is a lonely journey paved with thorns and bones."

"It will ensure that one day, when you are truly trapped in a desperate situation and must fight for your life with everything you have, the first thought that surfaces in your mind will not be how to use your wisdom and strength to break the deadlock, but to kneel in the dust and humbly beg for the next 'miracle' to descend."

Qin Feng’s voice deepened as he painted a vivid scene for them:

"Let me give you an analogy."

"To a compulsive gambler, the most terrifying thing in the world is not losing his last copper coin and being left with nothing."

"For such despair might just be the thing that brings him to his senses."

"The true horror is when he has reached the end of his rope, abandoned by all, and is ready to give up everything, only for the Goddess of Luck to suddenly smile upon him, allowing him to win big with his final, borrowed stake."

"A victory so great it clears all his debts and leaves him living in luxury."

"Can you imagine it? That instant of ecstasy, the violent shock of being lifted from hell to heaven, becomes the deepest brand upon his soul."

"He will not see it as luck; he will see it as the favor of destiny, proof of his own innate genius."

"From that moment on, he can never turn back. He will become a slave to his desires until the day he loses not just his wealth, but his very life."

"That victory is the final hand that pushes him into the abyss of no return."

"And you two, right now, are just like that gambler who won big."

Qin Feng’s words struck like an invisible hammer against the hearts of Lei and Ling Yao.

Ling Yao’s face turned pale, her slender frame trembling as a flicker of confusion and terror surfaced in her eyes.

She clenched her fists instinctively, feeling the surging, vast power within her—the power she had once been so obsessed with and proud of—now feeling like a cold, venomous snake coiled around her heart.

Lei’s reaction was even more violent.

His expression shifted through a kaleidoscope of emotions as Qin Feng spoke.

First, there was bewilderment.

He could not understand why this heaven-sent opportunity was being described by Senior Qin as a lethal poison.

Then came the struggle.

He recalled the time since he had gained this power; he had indeed grown lax.

The daily, unwavering cultivation had become sporadic;

The spirit of dissecting every martial mystery had been replaced by the thought that "enough love is enough to gain power."

He had even fantasized more than once that if he and Ling Yao continued to love each other, that benevolent "deity" might bestow grace upon them once more.

Every word of Senior Qin pierced the deepest, most decayed part of his soul—a rot he had not even noticed himself.

Then, fear.

A chill rising from the depths of his soul left him frozen.

He was afraid—not of an enemy, but of himself.

He feared he would truly become the hopeless gambler Senior Qin described, eventually losing everything.

He thought of Qin Feng.

He remembered the peerless grace of this senior on the Island of Death, facing the armies of ten thousand races alone; the overwhelming might as he slew six Limitless Black Holes before the Red Feather Pass; and the god-like silhouette as he obliterated the top-tier Marquis-level Evil Bone Marquis in a single breath within the Spirit Deer Universe.

All of this was achieved by the senior, step by step, through endless mountains of corpses and seas of blood!

That power was heavy, pure, and filled with an unyielding will.

And his own power? It was light, baseless, a castle in the air.

Finally, all the bewilderment, struggle, and fear coalesced into an unprecedented resolve!

"Thud!"

Lei dropped to one knee, the impact of his weight causing the hard star-patterned jade floor to groan.

He raised his head, his eyes burning with fanatical worship and iron-clad will. His voice was hoarse with emotion, yet resonant and firm:

"Senior, I understand! I... I finally understand!"

"My Dao heart was weak, I craved shortcuts, and I was blinded by this unearned power! I fear... I truly fear that I would drown in it, unable to pull myself out, and end up a waste who only knows how to beg for divine mercy!"

He took a deep breath, as if summoning all his strength, and bowed his head heavily to Qin Feng, his forehead striking the floor with a resounding crack.

"I beg you, Senior, strip me of this cultivation!"

"Lei... is willing!"

"I want... I want to start over, step by step, honorably, and fight my way back to this realm!"

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Ling Yao stared at her husband, stunned and disbelieving.

Strip his cultivation? Had he gone mad? That was the Black Hole realm, the dream of countless cultivators!

Even Qin Feng felt a flicker of surprise and approval.

He had expected Lei to wake up, perhaps to reflect, but he had not anticipated such immense courage and decisiveness.

It was the ruthlessness of a "warrior cutting off his own arm."

One who could be so cruel to himself, provided his Dao heart remained intact, would have a future of limitless potential.

Qin Feng’s expression turned solemn. He asked in a low voice, as if for a final confirmation, or perhaps to offer one last chance to recant:

"Are you certain?"

"You must understand, your current cultivation is that of a true Black Hole powerhouse, only a step away from the Limitless Black Hole. What a height that is!"

"Across the entire human territory, among billions of cultivators, how many spend millions of years in bitter toil without ever touching this threshold?"

"Once stripped, you will fall from the clouds to the dust in an instant."

"To cultivate it back will be harder than ascending to heaven. The path you once walked, tainted by the memory of this 'blessing,' will be even more treacherous, filled with inner demons."

"Have you truly thought this through?"

Every word of Qin Feng rang like a great bell in the depths of Lei’s soul.

Beads of cold sweat broke out instantly upon Lei’s forehead.

His body trembled faintly, his lips drained of all color from the sheer force of his clenching.

Could he truly let it go?

How could he ever bear to part with it!

That was power on the scale of a black hole!

It was a realm he had never dared to imagine even in his wildest dreams! It was the supreme authority that would allow him to look down upon all living beings and dictate the fate of a nation!

At the mere thought of losing it all, a heart-wrenching agony, sharp as a blade, surged through his entire being, accompanied by a profound, desperate reluctance.

Within him, a war between heaven and man was raging.

Reason told him this was the only correct path; yet emotion and desire screamed in madness, begging him to retract his words.

Pain! Incomparable, searing pain!

Yet, it was precisely this intense agony that made him realize, with chilling clarity, how deeply this power had corroded his very marrow.

He bit down hard on the tip of his tongue, the sharp sting bringing a momentary clarity to his mind.

He lifted his head, his voice choked with tears and bordering on a plea, as he roared at Qin Feng:

"Benefactor! Please, strike now! I beg of you!"

"If you ask me again, I fear... I fear I might truly regret it, that I might not be able to let go!"

He had spent the last of his strength to scream these words.

This was not merely a plea to Qin Feng; it was a final declaration of war against the beast of "desire" lurking within his own heart.

Hearing this, the solemn expression on Qin Feng’s face melted away like snow under the sun. In its place appeared a smile, genuine and brimming with immense satisfaction.

"Good!"

Qin Feng uttered this single word with a resonance that shook the heavens, filled with boundless approval and admiration.

This was exactly what he had been waiting for from Lei!

Only one who could face the deepest cowardice and greed within his own soul, and dare to turn the blade against them, was a true warrior!

Qin Feng let out a hearty laugh, no longer harboring a shred of hesitation. He extended a single finger; at its tip, there were no earth-shattering surges of energy, no world-destroying divine laws, only a soft, jade-like glimmer flowing gently.

Within that faint light seemed to dwell the most profound truths of the universe.

The supreme mystery of the Ten-Fold Hand was summoned with a flick of his wrist, the power of laws representing "perfection" and "control" coalescing at his fingertip.

The next moment, he flicked his finger, and that light drifted weightlessly, landing squarely between Lei’s brows.

"Hum—!"

Lei’s body convulsed violently, and a pain beyond the reach of language erupted from the core of his foundation, instantly flooding every limb, every bone, and every corner of his soul.