Chapter 399: Returning to the Morning Star Again, Former Residence of the Hero, Qin Feng is a Hero

Chapter 399: Return to Morningstar, the Hero’s Former Home, Qin Feng is the Hero!

Within the Terran Council Chamber, golden streams of particles slowly settled.

The Emperor’s vast will surged through the void, finally coalescing into an unquestionable holy decree. It was not a consultation, but a direct definition of fate.

"The slot for the God-Chosen Battlefield belongs to Qin Feng."

The moment these words fell, an invisible shackle seemed to descend upon Qin Feng’s shoulders. It was not merely a qualification for competition; it was the rise and fall of the human race for billions of years to come, the life and death of trillions of souls.

Qin Feng rose slowly and bowed slightly toward the fading golden phantom.

"I shall not fail this mandate."

Only five words, yet they weighed as heavily as the stars.

"The preparation period is ten thousand years." The Emperor’s voice grew ethereal, as if returning to the depths of the Warp to suppress the restless Chaos gods. "In ten thousand years, the God-Chosen Battlefield will open. During this time, Terra will tilt every resource toward you."

"But your heart, you must settle yourself."

"Go."

As the final syllable dissipated, the ring of sacred golden light vanished entirely. The pressure within the chamber receded like a tide, leaving the saints and venerables to look at one another before turning their gaze toward the young man in black standing at the end of the round table.

No words were necessary.

The Heaven-Swallowing Saint stepped forward, his thick, calloused hand patting Qin Feng’s shoulder heavily. This rugged saint, who had once taught Qin Feng his first steps, now held complex emotions in his eyes—pride, worry, and the sentiment of watching a fledgling eagle finally soar above the firmament.

"Good lad," the Heaven-Swallowing Saint grinned. "Ten thousand years. For a mortal, it is an eternity; for us... it is but a single meditation."

"How do you intend to spend these ten thousand years?" Yun Fu adjusted his monocle and asked softly.

Everyone waited for Qin Feng’s answer. Would he remain on Terra in deep seclusion? Would he enter the great secret realms to hone his killing techniques? Or would he head to the frontiers to slaughter once more as a sacrifice to his banner?

Qin Feng remained silent for a moment.

His gaze pierced through Terra’s thick atmosphere, traveled across billions of light-years of galaxy, and landed on an insignificant coordinate deep within his memories.

He was born on that blue star called "Earth," but that was his past life.

He was born at the origin of this universe, on that tiny planet called "Morningstar." There lay his initial struggles, his deceased father, and the first blade he swung to survive.

He had been a god for too long, killed too much.

He had reincarnated for millions of years in the Chaos illusions, and slaughtered countless saints in the Endless Sea. Now, his divinity was near perfection, yet his humanity had become mottled and fragmented over the long passage of time.

If he were to represent the "Human Race" in battle, he had to rediscover that most pure sense of being "human."

"Going home."

Qin Feng uttered the two words softly.

The surrounding saints were slightly stunned, then suddenly understood.

"Go," the First Universe Lord’s aged voice echoed. "As for Terra, we will prepare everything for you. Ten thousand years from now, we shall see you off at this time, in this place."

Qin Feng nodded, his figure swaying slightly.

There was no thunderous roar of space tearing, no violent fluctuation of energy. He simply vanished into thin air, as if the concept of "Qin Feng" had never existed in the chamber at all.

This was a Venerable.

Modifying rules, ignoring distance.

The Canaan Star System.

This had once been an unremarkable, mid-tier system in human territory, but due to the rise of Qin Feng—the "Uncrowned King," the "Ultimate God-Marquis," the "Saint-Slaughtering Venerable"—it had long since become one of the holy lands of the entire human domain.

Especially Morningstar.

When Qin Feng’s figure condensed once more outside the atmosphere of Morningstar, even his ancient, unruffled state of mind could not help but ripple.

"It has changed."

Qin Feng looked down at the planet beneath his feet.

In his memory, this was a planet focused on martial arts education, with vast primeval forests, wilderness zones, and satellite cities scattered like stars. While the architecture of that time had an interstellar style, it was defined by a rugged pragmatism.

But now.

What met his eyes was a "Heart of Technology" completely encased in steel and halos.

Gigantic anti-gravity orbital rings circled the planet’s equator, and countless starships shuttled between them like worker bees. On the surface, the former wilderness zones had vanished, replaced by layers upon layers of skyscrapers reaching into the clouds. Those towers stood tall, connected by transparent high-speed vacuum tubes, with neon light flows pulsing like blood vessels through the city’s body.

Morningstar was now the second capital of the Canaan System.

Land here was worth its weight in gold, and residency here was more prestigious than the governorship of some lesser planets. Countless financial giants and great clans had moved their headquarters here, just to catch a glimmer of the "legendary figure’s" fortune.

Qin Feng suppressed all his aura.

At this moment, he was not the Universe Venerable who could erase dozens of saints with a flick of his finger, nor was he the "variable" that made the Evil Gods tremble.

He compressed his life magnetic field to the limit, down to the level of a near-mortal.

Because his current power was too great.

So great that if he breathed normally, the airflow would trigger a Category 12 typhoon; so great that if he leaked even a sliver of his pressure, this planet—reinforced countless times—would shatter like a glass marble in the tidal forces of gravity.

He drifted down like a speck of dust, silent and unnoticed.

He passed through the bustling floating districts, the noisy trade centers, and the plazas hung with massive holographic projections—playing various artistically embellished "Biographies of Qin Feng."

Finally, he arrived at a peculiar area.

This was the center of Morningstar, and also the most incongruous place.

Surrounded by silver towers thousands of stories high and a futuristic city filled with cyberpunk aesthetics, this ten-square-kilometer area preserved an ancient, dilapidated, and perhaps even "impoverished" appearance.

Low-rise apartment blocks, mottled concrete walls, old green belts, and even the long-obsolete asphalt roads.

Silver Gull Community.

There were no hovercars here, no holographic advertisements, only a stillness as if sealed in a piece of amber by time.

But in Qin Feng’s "Eyes of Return to Ruins," he saw a different scene.

Around this seemingly dilapidated community, at least thirty-six layers of top-tier defensive arrays were deployed, each costing enough to purchase an entire star system.

At the entrance to the community, the guards were not ordinary security, but two martial artists in the "Ascension Realm" wearing exoskeleton armor. And in the shadows, at least three "Galaxy-Level" powerhouses kept their divine senses covering the area at all times.

It looked like the poorest of slums.

In reality, it was the most noble and inviolable "Sanctuary" in the entire Canaan System, and even the surrounding star systems.

Only the descendants of elders who had made immense contributions to the human race, or figures at the level of the High Governor of Morningstar, were qualified to apply for residence in the... outer perimeter nearby.

As for the apartment building in the core area.

That was a forbidden zone.

Qin Feng did not use the front gate.

Although those defensive arrays were enough to withstand the full-force strike of a Marquis-level powerhouse, before a Venerable who possessed the authority to modify underlying rules, they were as thin as air.

He simply took a light step.

His body passed through like a curtain of water, bypassing the spatial barrier and appearing in the familiar stairwell.

The voice-activated lights in the hallway flickered to life.

The dim, amber light illuminated the mottled traces of old advertisements on the wall—though long since scrubbed away, the scars of time had been deliberately preserved.

Qin Feng reached out, his fingers brushing against the rusted iron railing.

Cold. Rough.

This tangible reality finally anchored the heart that had drifted through the cosmic seas for ten million years.

"I am home."

He whispered to himself, his voice echoing through the hollow stairwell. There was no answer from his father, no clamor from neighbors, only a deathly stillness.

He walked to the deep red security door.

The lock had long been upgraded to the highest-tier biometric system, but before Qin Feng, the mechanical structure simply dissolved and reassembled with a soft, metallic click.

The door swung open.

The room was not dark; the curtains were drawn, and the gentle radiance of a star spilled across the living room floor.

Everything was exactly as he remembered.

The old fabric sofa, the chipped porcelain mug his father had loved so dearly still resting on the coffee table. On the wall hung his high school diploma and a photograph of him and his father.

Back then, he was callow and green, his eyes burning with a stubborn, unyielding fire.

Back then, his father, though aged, had smiled with such genuine joy.

The room was spotless.

Clearly, specialists performed the highest-grade maintenance here every day. Even the humidity and temperature were held at values optimized for the preservation of relics.

Qin Feng stepped inside slowly and closed the door.

He shut out the clamor of the world.

He did not use his divine power to probe, nor did he practice any arts in this room. He was merely a weary traveler returning home, shedding the black cloak that could withstand cosmic storms and tossing it onto the rack.

Then, he walked to the sofa and let himself fall into it.

"Hah..."

The long sigh seemed to exhale the stagnant air accumulated over countless eons.

The sofa gave an overburdened creak—a phantom sound, of course, for with Qin Feng’s current control, he could make his weight as light as a feather.

He sat there.

Watching the familiar yet alien sky outside the window.

No need to ponder how to break the laws of reality, no need to contemplate the slaughter of saints, no need to worry about the future of humanity, no need to endure the cruelty of the God-Chosen battlefield.

In this moment, he was simply Qin Feng.

The boy from the Silver Gull community.

Drowsiness washed over him.

It was absurd. At his level of existence, the soul’s fire burned eternally; sleep was unnecessary. Yet in this room, in the air that smelled so intensely of "home," Qin Feng felt a long-lost fatigue.

He closed his eyes, his breathing growing long and steady.

As if the birth and death of the universe outside had nothing to do with him.

I do not know how much time had passed.

"Beep—"

The security system emitted a soft chime, interrupting Qin Feng’s light slumber.

He did not move; he did not even lift an eyelid. This was his home; he needed no defenses against anyone. Moreover, he could sense that the intruders held no malice, and were, in fact... as weak as ants.

The door was pushed open.

Several middle-aged women in uniform entered. They carried professional, high-tech cleaning tools, moving with the cautious, practiced steps of those who had undergone rigorous training.

"Sister Li, should we change the nutrient solution for the Clivia today?" a younger cleaner asked in a hushed tone.

"Shh! Keep it down!" the lead cleaner, known as Sister Li, glared at her. "Do you know where this is? This is the 'God’s Abode'! Every speck of dust is a historical artifact. Just do your job and keep your mouth shut!"

"Oh, right..."

The cleaners donned their shoe covers, ready to begin their routine maintenance.

This cleaning company, "Heavenly Purity," was the official, top-tier service provider for the Morning Star government, tasked specifically with the upkeep of this room. Being selected to clean here was a matter of immense political vetting and honor; even their wages were calculated by the minute.

Their workflow was etched into their minds: enter, silence, wipe, maintain, withdraw.

But this room had been empty for thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of years.

In their minds, this was less of a private residence and more of a temple, a memorial.

Until...

The young cleaner was reaching to wipe the coffee table when her movements suddenly froze.

Her eyes widened, her pupils contracted violently, and the nano-cloth in her hand dropped to the floor with a soft thud. "Si... Sister Li..."

Her voice trembled.

"What is it? You clumsy girl!" Sister Li turned around, annoyed, and followed the girl’s gaze.

The next second, Sister Li froze as well.

On the sofa.

Sat a person.

A young man with black hair.

He wore a simple white shirt (a casual garment Qin Feng had manifested on a whim), his eyes closed, his hands crossed over his abdomen as if taking a nap.

The sunlight fell across his profile, carving out a near-perfect silhouette. Yet, there was no aura of power about him, no halo, no pressure; he looked like nothing more than an ordinary white-collar worker, exhausted after a long day.

But...

Where was this?

This was the core unit of the Silver Gull community! One of the most heavily guarded places in the entire galaxy!

How could anyone be here?!

"Who are you?!" Sister Li screamed instinctively, but immediately realized she shouldn't be making noise. She clamped her hand over her mouth, her face turning deathly pale. "How... how did you get in?"

A thief?

No, what thief could pass through the thirty-six great formations outside?

Was it the illegitimate child of some high-ranking official sneaking in for a look?

Qin Feng slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze was as deep as an abyss. Just one look made the cleaners feel as though their souls were being sucked into a bottomless black hole. But the sensation vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by a gentle, quiet peace.

Qin Feng looked at them, his focus unfixed, as if still savoring that brief moment of tranquility.

"No cleaning today."

His voice was soft, and very calm.

It was as if the master of the house were tossing a casual command to a house cleaner.

"Out... get out." Qin Feng waved a hand, closing his eyes once more. "I wish to be alone."

The cleaners were utterly bewildered.

Their minds had gone blank, incapable of processing the scene before them. Yet, when faced with an incomprehensible terror, the human instinct is almost always to obey.

"Oh... oh, yes..."

Sister Li nodded mechanically, her legs turning to jelly. She grabbed the young girl, who was already paralyzed with fright, and they scrambled out of the room in a frantic, stumbling retreat.

Click.

The door shut once again.

Standing in the hallway, the biting cold wind brought Sister Li back to her senses.

Cold sweat instantly drenched her back.

"Someone... there is someone inside!"

"Quick! Report this to the supervisor!"

The young girl began to sob in terror: "Will they silence us? Who is that man? He actually dared to sit on the sofa of the 'God'!"

The two women fled the building in a panic, their trembling fingers dialing the company's emergency channel.

"Manager! Something terrible has happened! At the Silver Gull community... that room... someone has broken in!"

"What?!" The manager on the other end nearly overturned his desk. "Are you seeing things? Not even a mosquito can get in there!"

"It's true! It's a man! He's sitting on the sofa, and he... he told us to get out!"

This news was like a depth charge dropped into a calm lake.

The cleaning company immediately reported it to the Tianshield Security Group, which was responsible for the area's protection.

The executives of Tianshield were struck with mortal terror, fearing a catastrophic breach in their defense systems, and immediately escalated the report to the Morningstar Garrison Command.

"The Hero's former residence has been breached?!"

The Commander of the Morningstar Garrison was in the middle of a meeting when he heard the news; he slammed his fist down, shattering the solid wood conference table.

"Scoundrels! Who is it? What reckless madman would dare to desecrate the residence of Lord Qin Feng!"

"Investigate! Mobilize the Special Task Force! Seal off the Silver Gull community!"

"Notify the Galactic Governor's Office! Notify the stationed Adeptus Astartes detachment!"

Less than ten minutes later.

The once peaceful and serene Silver Gull community was instantly transformed into the eye of a storm.

Piercing sirens tore through the sky. Hundreds of pitch-black armed hovercrafts descended like a dark cloud, encircling the community until not even a drop of water could pass through. Thousands of elite soldiers in full combat gear dropped from the heavens, their Gauss rifles and laser cannons locked onto the old residential building.

Three terrifying auras erupted from the distant skyscrapers, surging toward the heavens.

These were the three Galactic-level powerhouses stationed on Morningstar!

"What manner of vermin dares to run wild on Morningstar!"

A roar echoed through the firmament, making the very air vibrate with a low hum.

The lead powerhouse, clad in purple-gold armor and wielding a war spear, wore a face of pure fury. He was a fanatical devotee of Qin Feng, having grown up on his legends; now, tasked with guarding his idol's home, such a lapse in security filled him with uncontrollable rage.

"Come out!"

"Or be executed on the spot!"

Facing the dragnet outside, facing enough firepower to level half a continent.

The deep red security door remained tightly shut.

The person inside seemed not to have heard the clamor outside at all.

"Stubborn fool!"

A flash of killing intent crossed the eyes of the armored warrior. "Assault team, breach the door! Be careful not to damage the contents of the room; drag that madman out to me!"

"Yes!"

A squad in state-of-the-art exoskeletons charged up the stairs. They were well-trained and swift, reaching the door in an instant.

The demolitionist moved to install a directional charge, but was stopped by the captain.

"Idiot! This door is a relic! Use the master key!"

"Yes..."

The electronic lock clicked open once more.

The soldiers charged in, weapons leveled, fierce as wolves.

"Don't move! Hands on your heads, get down!"

"Raise your hands!"

The roars echoed through the cramped living room.

Yet, the next second, every shout died in their throats.

The captain, leading the charge, had his muzzle trained on the young man on the sofa. His finger was already curled around the trigger, but his body stood frozen, as if struck by a paralysis spell, stiff as stone.

Through the visor of his tactical helmet, he saw the man's face.

It was a face that was young and handsome, yet carried an indescribable weight of passing ages.

Even with his eyes closed, the sense of detachment radiating from his very bones forced a primal submission upon the captain.

But that was not what terrified him most.

What terrified him most was... this face was too familiar.

So familiar that every citizen of Morningstar, from the moment of birth, had seen it countless times in textbooks, on statues in the plazas, and in holographic films.

Though the man before him was more vivid than any statue, and his aura more restrained than in any film, that unique essence was something no one could ever imitate.

"Cap... Captain?" the soldier behind him asked, nudging him in confusion. "What is it?"

The captain did not speak.

The gun in his hand clattered to the floor.

Then, his knees gave way, and he knelt down, unable to control himself.

His entire body shook, his teeth chattering.

"Qin... Qin..."

Outside, the Galactic-level powerhouse grew impatient as the silence persisted within.

"Useless trash!"

The armored warrior snorted, his figure flickering as he teleported directly to the doorway.

"I shall see for myself who has such gall!"

He strode into the room, his star-power surging, ready to seize the "madman" sitting on the sofa.

Yet.

The very instant his gaze fell upon that figure.

His previously tempestuous astral power, like a mouse encountering its natural predator, recoiled instantly into his body, nearly rupturing his meridians from the violent backlash.

The earth-shattering killing intent he had exuded vanished into nothingness in that singular moment.

The figure remained with eyes closed, leaning against the sofa, breathing steadily, his expression serene.

It was as if the heavily armed soldiers surrounding him, as if this furious galaxy-level powerhouse, were nothing more than specks of dust in the air.

A strange, rattling sound emanated from the throat of the warrior in the purple-gold armor.

His brain was screaming alarms; his soul was shrieking in terror.

As a galaxy-level powerhouse, his perception far exceeded that of any mortal. He could clearly sense what manner of horror lay dormant within the young man before him, who appeared to possess no aura at all.

It was not mere power.

It was an abyss.

It was an ultimate terror, capable of churning the entire cosmic sea with the mere flicker of a thought.

Furthermore, he recognized that face.

The face enshrined upon the altar, the face regarded by countless human martial artists as the lifelong goal to pursue.

"Qin... Lord Qin Feng?"

His voice was so faint it sounded like a dream.

The person on the sofa finally opened his eyes slowly.

Those eyes swept over the crowd with calm indifference. No anger, no reproach, only the weariness of one whose peaceful slumber had been disturbed.

"I said."

Qin Feng’s voice remained soft, yet it resonated clearly within the depths of everyone’s soul present.

"No cleaning today."

"And no need... to be so loud."

"Thud."

The warrior in the purple-gold armor slammed his knees heavily onto the wooden floor, uncaring whether he shattered the "relic" beneath him. He prostrated himself, his forehead pressed hard against the ground, his entire body trembling like a leaf.

"I... I pay homage to the Venerable!!!"

This roar, laden with boundless terror and ecstasy, echoed throughout the entire Silver Gull community.

The dazed special forces soldiers at the doorway, the powerhouses hovering in the sky outside, even the Governor rushing toward the scene from afar...

Everyone, in that moment, was struck dumb.

The entire planet of Qiming fell into a deathly silence.

Only the figure sitting on the sofa closed his eyes once more, as if all the worship surrounding him had nothing to do with him at all.