Hearing Zi Tianjun’s words, the members of the Heavenly God Clan erupted in cheers. They shouted things like “Welcome the new clan leader!” and “Long live the new clan leader!” At his side, Zi Xunyi gazed at him with eyes full of shy affection. The three beautiful masters watched with deep satisfaction, as if they were seeing their own child finally come into his own.
Only Yan Zhen himself felt a bit speechless. Wasn’t this plot a little too over-the-top? Who rocketed to the top so effortlessly?
Yet another voice countered in his mind.
—I’m the protagonist, after all. Picking up an ancient inheritance and soaring to new heights—isn’t that perfectly normal?
“No, no, no. Jumping straight from Mystic Venerable to Nine-Star Great Saint? That’s way too ridiculous. I’d buy it if you hit Supreme.”
—The protagonists in those sign-in stories start with Emperor Realm cultivation right out of the gate. What’s wrong with me skipping two major realms? I’m a power fantasy protagonist too. I’ve got a system.
“But our System-chan is so useless. All the rewards are just leftovers from my past life. It’s downright embarrassing.”
【……】
【(A certain plant)】
【o(￣︶￣)o】
Yan Zhen casually swatted away the system interface that kept popping up in front of him, but deep down, he inexplicably began to waver.
—Other protagonists stumble into a mysterious old man in prison who hands them an ancient ring. They go from rags to riches, becoming dragon kings or asuras, slapping faces left and right. I picked up the Heavenly God Ring, gained the Heavenly God inheritance, and now I’m in charge of the Heavenly God Clan. Isn’t that perfectly reasonable?
Now with Nine-Star Great Saint cultivation, he could refine a few more Extreme Flames, then go challenge the Demon Domain Lord one-on-one and just kill the guy. What could be bad about that?
Once the Demon Domain Lord was dead, he could keep collecting Extreme Flames, summon Extreme Flame: Boundless, and use its power to break through to the Emperor Realm. The sooner he claimed the Emperor Throne, the sooner he could explore the path to Heavenly Emperor.
Only by becoming a Heavenly Emperor could he avert the tragedy of his previous life!
His thoughts spiraled out of control. Yan Zhen increasingly felt that this wasn’t an illusion—or rather, he desperately wanted it not to be. He wanted it all to be real, everything so perfect.
—Whoosh.
The Little Pitiful Fire Seed flickered faintly, instantly scattering the stray thoughts. Yan Zhen snapped back to clarity on the spot.
“No, this is an illusion. I don’t need this fake nonsense. I want power I earn myself!”
As his words fell, Yan Zhen’s cultivation plummeted. He rapidly dropped from Nine-Star Great Saint to Half-Saint, but he didn’t waver in the slightest. His cultivation continued to fall—to Supreme, then back to One-Star Mystic Venerable!
But the regression didn’t stop there. He fell from One-Star Mystic Venerable to Mystic Ancestor, then to Mystic Lord and Mystic King… all the way back to Mystic Disciple Third Stage, just as he had started.
The world around him shifted as well. Zi Tianjun looked down at him imperiously and said coldly, “Mystic Disciple Third Stage at twenty years old? A waste like you has no right to be my son-in-law. Get lost.”
Zi Xunyi looked disappointed beyond measure. “Yan Zhen, how can you face my daughter and me?”
Even the three beautiful masters turned away from him. “You’re hopeless—no amount of teaching will stick. You’re on your own.”
One thought brought paradise; the next plunged him into hell.
Acclaimed one moment, spat upon the next.
Yan Zhen ignored it all. A cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No one takes what’s mine—neither my power nor my women!”
An invisible fire seed leaped to life in his palm. The people, objects, and events around him began to blur, until only Yan Zhen remained real. He was still himself: One-Star Mystic Venerable with All Eight Realms at Extreme.
“Daring to test me with this garbage? You think you’re hot stuff? It’s just a damn painting!”
Mental Fire ignited in Yan Zhen’s eyes. He locked onto the Painting Immortal’s position and transformed into a streak of starlight, charging straight toward it.
Outside, everyone watched the Heavenly God Descent Painting with rapt attention. They saw all three still wandering in circles when suddenly Yan Zhen’s trajectory changed. He shot toward a certain spot, his figure gradually fading until he vanished entirely.
Zi Tianjun’s eyebrows shot up. Before long, he sensed the Painting Immortal’s panic as it pleaded for help from him, its master.
Before Zi Tianjun could confirm what was happening, the Heavenly God Descent Painting began to burn from the center outward. Even with his steady composure, he nearly cursed out loud. He hurriedly formed hand seals and released Yan Zhen, stopping the flames just in time.
However, the once-perfect Grotto-Heaven Artifact now had a hole burned right through it. It should have been able to repair itself, but for some reason, the process was agonizingly slow.
Yan Zhen smoothly escaped the painting’s illusion. He glanced around and let out a quiet sigh of relief upon seeing no sign of Zi Xuandu or Zi Jinchan.
“Clan Leader Zi, does that count as passing the trial?”
Zi Tianjun stared heartbrokenly at his ancestral treasure, at the stubborn hole in it, his face darkening. He snapped irritably, “Kid, if you saw through the illusion, why not just leave? Why attack the Painting Immortal?”
Yan Zhen pursed his lips and muttered under his breath, “It was asking for a beating. Isn’t that obvious?”
Zi Tianjun itched to bonk the little punk on the head a couple times. Instead, he hurriedly released Zi Xuandu and Zi Jinchan as well. The two still thought they were trapped in the illusion.
One lounged lazily on a cloud, hugging a fish-shaped pillow, and drawled leisurely, “Nice weather today. Perfect day to slack off.”
The other sat primly on his cloud, acting like a tough gang boss as he bragged arrogantly, “I’m not singling anyone out. I’m saying everyone here is trash!”
The Heavenly God Clan members watched their behavior and felt utterly speechless.
Zi Tianjun wasn’t pleased either. He let out a heavy, cold snort. Zi Xuandu and Zi Jinchan jolted awake, meeting their clan leader’s face—which had turned pitch-black like charcoal—and both trembled inwardly.
“F-Father.”
“Clan Leader…”
“You two worthless brats can’t even see through a simple illusion!” Zi Tianjun vented his frustration on them. “The kid not only broke the illusion but beat up the Painting Immortal too. When did the Heavenly God Clan’s prodigies become so pathetic?”
What? He beat up the Painting Immortal?
Zi Xuandu and Zi Jinchan turned to Yan Zhen in shock. Yan Zhen put on a stubborn face that said, “Don’t look at me. I did nothing wrong.”
Zi Jinchan gritted his teeth and stepped forward. “Clan Leader, the final trial is a strength contest, right? Let me go. I’ll take him down!”
Zi Tianjun wanted to humble Yan Zhen a bit too. “You’ve passed the first two trials on temperament, Young Friend Yan Zhen. Now we come to the third and final one: a contest of strength.”
“Having cleared the first two, Young Friend Yan Zhen is fully worthy of Zi Ji. But you’re not the only one worthy of her. This old man can’t favor an outsider over the wishes of our own clansmen, so you two will have to settle it yourselves.”
“Jinchan, suppress your cultivation to the Mystic Venerable Realm and fight Young Friend Yan Zhen. Remember: pull your punches.”
Zi Jinchan replied excitedly, “As the clan leader commands!”
Zi Jinchan was about to suppress his cultivation to Nine-Star Mystic Venerable when Yan Zhen spoke up. “No need to hold back. Come at me full strength!”
