CHAPTER 1442: THE RIFT II

The rift suddenly shuddered. A low, guttural hum reverberated through the clearing, deep enough to rattle the ground beneath Zhao Li Xin’s feet.

The fractures in the air pulsed like veins of black lightning, spreading farther, faster, until the very sky above the bamboo grove dimmed.

A sudden gust tore through the clearing. Howling like a chorus of restless spirits, pulling Zhao Li Xin’s robes and tugging his long hair toward the widening rift. The pressure thickened, crushing down from all directions, a suffocating weight of raw, untamed power.

The fire spirit flinched back, its flickering form trembling uncontrollably. [Master! It’s unstable!]

But Zhao Li Xin remained unmoving, his expression as calm as still water. Both of his hands were now buried past the wrist in the jagged void, his fingers curling with unyielding precision.

With every subtle shift of his palms, the rift groaned in protest, its edges splintering wider, spilling streams of dark-purple energy that lashed out like living tendrils.

The rift yawned wide, jagged edges tearing apart like shattered glass. A cyclone of spiritual energy erupted outward, slamming against the bamboo grove, bending it near to breaking. The fire spirit shielded itself with a burst of flame, its tiny voice cracking in fear:

[Master—!]

But Zhao Li Xin only smiled faintly, his grip tightening as if he were dragging the void itself under his command. Then his fingers tightened, and soon after, he released his power, and in an instant, the area around him ignited.

A surge of dark-purple fire roared outward from his palms, not in a single burst, but in a relentless wave, like a wildfire devouring heaven and earth. The flames spiraled around him, twisting into a vortex of raw, violent energy that struck the rift with crushing force.

The rift convulsed.

Cracks spread outward in rapid succession, splintering through the air like a spiderweb of shattered glass. Every fracture bled with searing light, a blinding brilliance that cut through the shadowed grove.

The fire spirit recoiled, shielding its ember-bright eyes as the pressure in the clearing spiked to a terrifying shriek. [Master! It’s—breaking!]

Zhao Li Xin’s expression remained carved from stone, his gaze locked upon the rift as his fire surged ever higher, feeding upon itself, until it became an inferno too wild to contain and then—

BOOM.

The rift exploded outward with a deafening crack, its jagged edges flung wide. Reality itself was torn apart, a gaping wound in the fabric of the world. From its depths, an abyssal light poured forth, twisting and writhing, as if something immense and ancient was stirring on the other side.

The bamboo grove bent violently, stalks snapping under the raw pressure, while the air was stripped of sound, as if the world had been reduced to a single, breathless moment.

The fire spirit’s voice was barely a whisper now. [It’s... open.]

Zhao Li Xin stood at the center of it all, robes billowing like storm-tossed banners, the inferno around him blazing as though it crowned him emperor of this broken sky. The rift before him writhed and crackled, its jagged edges bleeding light and shadow in equal measure.

And yet, his gaze held not an ounce of fear. Only quiet, unshakable command. Later, he let out a soft snort, [Annoying,] he hissed, in an upset but light tone like an elder reprimanding a naughty boy.

[Master?] The fire spirit’s voice was small, almost hesitant, lost beneath the chaotic hum of the fractured realm.

Zhao Li Xin didn’t turn his head. His eyes remained locked on the rift.

[Wait here,] he ordered, his tone absolute.

The fire spirit straightened instinctively, [Yes, Master!] it replied, reverence and excitement woven into every syllable.

The fire spirit watched as Zhao Li Xin strode forward, his movements fluid, unhurried, the wild flames bending to his will as if the world itself dared not oppose him.

The fire spirit never told Zhao Li Xin that actually, Emperor Lei Yu, who had only succeeded after three failed attempts, and each one nearly costing him his life. That was because the fire spirit knew his master character full well that such words were meaningless before Zhao Li Xin.

His master would not falter. He never had.

From a young age, he has always been fearless, resolute, and combined with a talent without equal. No wonder he became the most powerful figure of his generation; the truth is that not even his ancestor could match the man, whether in talent or character.

As Zhao Li Xin stepped into the rift, the searing light swallowed him whole, his figure dissolving into the raw brilliance between worlds. The fire spirit lingered at the edge of the formation, its flames flickering with quiet amusement.

’What an absurd man.’

With such power, he could rival even the mighty Lucient descendant. He possessed power that could crush kingdoms and bend the heavens if he so wished. By every law of fate, Zhao Li Xin was a man born to rule, the kind whose very name should have been carved into history in fire and blood.

...And yet... he humbled himself before love.

He had set aside crowns, armies, and ambition, choosing instead to be nothing more than a mere painter, sitting before vast, empty canvases, content to pour his thought into brushstrokes simply for the sake of one woman.

The fire spirit let out a soundless laugh, a crackling spark of amusement in the heavy silence. Perhaps that was what made Zhao Li Xin so dangerous—power without desire was a force that could neither be bribed, swayed, nor broken.

[Master... you are truly infuriating,] the spirit chuckled, thinking of all the people in the world who would sacrifice everything for even half of what he possessed, yet he discarded it all as if it were nothing.

Zhao Li Xin stepped into a darkness so deep it seemed endless. It wasn’t just the absence of light; it was a hollow expanse, boundless and silent, stretching farther than his senses could reach. The air felt heavy and still, as if even sound had been swallowed whole.

There was no ground, no horizon, no sky, nothing, only a blackness so profound it gave the unsettling illusion of floating in an infinite void. It was like standing in the heart of space itself, where the stars had long since died and nothing remained but an eternal, suffocating emptiness.

Even when Zhao Li Xin lifted his hand before his face, he saw nothing. Not a shadow. Not a shape. Just a consuming dark that threatened to erase his very presence, as though he might dissolve into it if he stood still for too long.

And yet... far ahead, a faint glow pulsed; it was small, fragile, but undeniably real.

His pace quickened instinctively, the light growing larger and brighter with every step until, at last, he crossed into its reach.

There, beneath the dim glow, lay Girsha’s enormous body, sprawled weakly across the ground.

Alarm surged through Zhao Li Xin, and he immediately approached the fallen bird.

"Lord Girsha," he called out, his voice low but urgent.

Girsha’s massive eyelids trembled slightly before slowly lifting.

Those round emerald eyes, once fierce, now stared at Zhao Li Xin in confusion.

"Am I... dreaming?" Girsha’s voice was hoarse, uncertain. "Why am I dreaming about you?"

Zhao Li Xin placed a steady hand against Girsha’s great beak.

"You’re not dreaming," he said softly. "I’m here."

It took a moment for Girsha’s gaze to sharpen and focus on him. Then the giant bird’s head rose slightly, disbelief flashing across his features.

"How...? Wait—don’t tell me you were sucked to this place too!" His voice carried both stress and worry, though Zhao Li Xin knew most of it stemmed from concern for Lory.

"Calm down," Zhao Li Xin reassured him. "I broke into this space using an array. You know who my ancestor is."

Girsha blinked, stunned at first, then understanding washed over him. Of course. Lazarus, the master of this place, was Zhao Li Xin’s ancestor. No wonder Zhao Li Xin had managed to enter with his own power; such a powerful man, very suited for his Lory

"Thank goodness..." Girsha exhaled a long, weary sigh before letting his massive head rest on the ground again. "I was worried. If the two of us were trapped here... who would knock some sense into that girl if she went overboard again?"

A faint smile tugged at Zhao Li Xin’s lips. "Not like we could really stop her anyway," he gave a light reminder.

"But don’t worry—Lory’s fine. She’s reunited with her brothers and her friends. Soon, she’ll reclaim her position again as the Princess of Harland." He knew exactly what always troubled Girsha the most; therefore, he deliberately gave him the one piece of news that would ease his heart.

Girsha let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound weak but warm.

"That’s good... that’s good," he murmured, his voice filled with unguarded relief and joy.

Then his emerald eyes turned back to Zhao Li Xin. "So... why are you here?"

"I heard from the fire spirit that your condition isn’t good," Zhao Li Xin replied casually, as if he were merely visiting a sick friend in the neighborhood.

Girsha’s beak curved in what could almost be called amusement.

"My condition is indeed not good," he admitted with a weary sigh.

Slowly, he turned his massive head, his gaze shifting toward the distance. Zhao Li Xin followed his line of sight—

And there they were.

Zhao Li Xin followed Girsha’s gaze, and the sight before him stole his breath.

Millions of doors stood in flawless formation, encircling them in an unbroken ring that stretched into the distance. Layer upon layer rose upward, each tier vanishing into the abyss until it seemed the entire sky had been consumed by them.

The silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint hum of unseen power that made the air vibrate. Some doors gleamed faintly like dying stars, while others were so dark they seemed to swallow the void itself.

Together, they loomed over Zhao Li Xin and Girsha like an eternal monument, vast, cold, and watching. It was a sight both awe-inspiring and unsettling, as though they stood at the heart of a place that should not exist.