The distant deep space.

Hundreds of millions of light-years away, black clouds shroud the galaxies.

Beneath the galaxy, the sun appears enveloped in a grayish, hazy hue.

Sunlight falls upon the ground, casting the entire land in a dim, ashen brilliance.

Below, mortal cities dot the land like scattered stars—numerous at first glance, but upon closer inspection, deathly silent.

The mortals bear lifeless expressions, their eyes devoid of vitality. Though alive, they seem no different from the dead.

On every street, in every household, in every temple, a shared mountain-shaped totem is visible.

This is the star ruled by Taishi. Since he arrived in this totemic world, he changed the totem here to represent himself.

By channeling the power of the living beings' faith, he restored his strength and simultaneously fused this realm to form a new Heavenly Court for the galaxy.

Outside the star, pitch-black mist gradually devours a nearby celestial body.

It is Taishi devouring, extracting strength from the ground layer by layer.

The sun is veiled by layers of gray mist, a spell meant to obscure Song Lin's gaze.

Taishi is well aware of Song Lin's abilities, thus taking precautions to deter him from entering through the sun.

Though the likelihood is slim.

After all, the stars of the universe are countless, and without a clear target, searching one by one could take a thousand years or more.

Having been ambushed by Song Lin more than a few times, Taishi reluctantly conceded to believing in this peculiar occurrence.

This lad is truly unnerving; what he deems impossible, more often than not, Song Lin somehow manages to achieve.

Thus, Taishi cannot afford to overlook this possibility.

Boom!

With another star refined, Taishi's cultivation level advanced yet another step.

A shadowy, somber laugh echoed through the void.

"Kekeke, Song Lin, have you resolved the matter at Ghost Gate? Hold onto your head for now; the Demon Tribulation will come to claim it."

Harboring deep hatred for Song Lin, Taishi Demon Emperor pressed on with renewed determination.

On stars far from the Ancestor Star, the difficulty of cultivation increases manifold, yet Taishi persevered.

"Roar!!"

Another ear-splitting roar cut through the void.

A beast resembling both a massive dog and a Qilin, wreathed in monstrous demonic flames, soared toward the depths of the cosmos.

This is the Hou, the ultimate evolved form of the zombie.

During the last story arc, a few Flying Sky Zombies had escaped. The surviving zombies, by chance, cultivated into Hou and, learning from their past failures, established a Zombie Small Heavenly Court.

They have never forgotten a single person—one named Eastern King. It was this Taoist who brought them to such ruin.

Now that the tides have turned, they await the outbreak of the Demon Tribulation, when the world plunges into chaos. At that moment, they will emerge from concealment. Be it that man or his descendants, they will kill them all without exception, leaving no survivors.

The next Demon Tribulation will be the moment of their vengeance.

In yet another void, chants of prayers and sacrificial rituals resounded among the stars.

Deep in the starry sky loomed a patch of darkness, faint whispers emanating from its core, hinting at the name of Song Lin.

In this Small Thousand World, Song Lin had accrued countless enemies.

This time, the Demon Tribulation might very well become a grand assembly of revenge targeted at Song Lin.

Another section of the starscape.

The Heaven and Earth Xuan Gate flung open as millions of Heavenly Soldiers descended from above. Under Chiyou's command, they collided forcefully with enemy troops.

This was the star of the Demon Clan, home to a host of Ancient Strange Beasts.

"Glorious!"

Shi Yinhua fought with fervent abandon, surrounded by the Five Immortals Dharma Images. Each shared the same cultivation level as his own, imitating the Twelve Yuan Chen in resemblance.

Behind him stood disciples of the Five Immortals Magic Vein, their dharma forms nearly identical to Shi Yinhua's main body.

The Donghua Heavenly Court did not withhold its spells. Anyone qualified could learn them.

Whether it was Song Lin's Taiyi Jinhua Scripture, Innate Pure Yang Dao, or the Nine-Transformation Mysterious Skill, many disciples underwent cultivation in these paths.

The largest Golden Body in the void belonged to Luu Yunsheng, the most gifted in alchemy among the disciples, and the sole individual to have reached the pinnacle of Nine-Transformation.

This individual rampaged across the void, invincible wherever he went. The Nine-Transformation Mysterious Skill, unyielding and impervious, earned him legendary acclaim throughout the cosmos.

Of course, the Heavenly Court did not come without losses. The fierce resistance from demons caused significant casualties among the Taoist Soldiers, and also claimed the lives of many cultivators.

A wisp of a ghostly soul drifted through the void, arriving at a pitch-black river.

As the river washed over the soul body, it turned transparent and crystal-clear, like flawless glass.

The higher one's cultivation, the brighter their light. A white glow spanning a thousand miles heralded the crossing of tribulations. Long had it been since the last tribulation-induced demise. This time, two souls arrived simultaneously, startling even the Yin Emperor.

Within a deep and foreboding palace.

An elder entered, followed by a man with sharp eyebrows and star-like eyes at his side.

In the dim main hall, Yuanbo, adorned in the Yin Emperor's regalia, radiated Divine Light as his gaze swept over the two newcomers.

"Shoucheng, Jianxin, what happened to you two?"

"A moment's misstep," Shoucheng replied with a bittersweet smile.

Once a Taoist Heavenly Master, Shoucheng had fared decently after siding with Song Lin, with notable progress in cultivation.

But times had changed. Primordial Spirits, once considered upper-tier strength, now barely ranked among the vast expanse of the cosmos.

"An error," Jianxin said coldly.

"What are your plans next? Reincarnation, awaiting awakening in a future era, or serving a role in the Yin Bureau?" Yuanbo inquired.

"A role in the Yin Bureau. I'm tired of striving," Shoucheng answered, his expression relaxed. Perhaps retirement in the Yin Bureau was an ideal outcome. Given his level and merits, he might even secure a position guarding a star.

Backed by the Heavenly Court, his lifespan would persist as long as theirs. Though his cultivation might plateau, after a lifetime of wars, he found solace in the notion of living restfully.

Living eternally, witnessing the vicissitudes of the mortal world, even occasionally manifesting himself to partake in its tales and leave behind legends.

Could there be any greater freedom?

"Mountain God, Earth Deity, Water Master, or Yin Bureau—you have the freedom to choose," Yuanbo offered.

After some thought, Shoucheng replied, "Mountain God."

"Very well…" Yuanbo pondered for a moment before saying, "I will petition the Heavenly Emperor to appoint you as the Yin Bureau Overlord of Yang Yuan Star, overseeing the star's underworld affairs."

"Thank you, Emperor."

"And you, Jianxin?"

"The Yin Bureau." Jianxin contemplated, ultimately abandoning the idea of reincarnation.

After all, who could guarantee the reincarnated self would still be the same? Even if his memories returned, wouldn't the accompanying Heart Demon return as well?

Unless he completely severed ties with his past.

After much deliberation, Jianxin concluded that continuing cultivation as a Ghost Cultivator was the better choice. Who's to say Ghost Cultivators couldn't achieve the prestige of a Sword Immortal?

Yuanbo appreciated his resolve and thus appointed Jianxin as the Three Realms Chief Judge, assisting the Yin Emperor in managing affairs.

Time flowed silently by, the Demon Tribulation drawing ever nearer.

In the hundred and twentieth year of Emperor Xinn's reign.

The Chaoge Divine Court was established. On that day, the heavens emitted brilliant white light, illuminating thousands of miles. King Zhou ascended Lud Platform as divine radiance bathed the kingdom.

Amidst the adoration of the Three Officials, Five Officials, Eight Witches, and delegations of humans, gods, monsters, and demons, he declared himself the Human Emperor.

Xibo once again offered a portion of land.

"This is the Map of Western Territory."

"Good. Another day, we shall campaign against the Eastern Yi. Deploy eight thousand men."

"As you command."

The repeated humility and concessions of Xibo lulled King Zhou into discarding his vigilance toward Xiqi.

After all, it was but a mere vassal lord in the west. When their power swelled, they would be struck down. If necessary, he could kill them and replace them.

His ancestors had used the same approach to manage the powerful vassals and barbarians from all quarters.

Barbarians rose annually, while vassals rebelled perpetually.

Did they truly believe the King of Shang, sovereign of the realm, couldn't eliminate them all in one fell swoop?

The nature of Yinn Shang dictated that the world could not remain in peace. Peace would mark the decline of Yinn Shang.

King Zhou firmly believed he held everything in his grasp. His only oversight—the accursed Eastern King.

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