Volume 4: Super-Tier Awakening & The Ancient Capital Calamity
Chapter 381
The Imperial Will's Trial
The space before Lin Feng shattered like a pane of glass struck by a heavy sledgehammer. The reek of death from the Imperial Mausoleum’s forbidden grounds vanished entirely, and the frantic pounding of his own heart in his chest faded away. The only thing engulfing his entire consciousness now was a dizzying, overwhelming crimson of blood and fire.
Rumble— rumble— rumble!
A deafening explosion assaulted his senses. Lin Feng staggered half a step back, his boots suddenly sinking deep into a squelching, reeking, thick quagmire. Looking down, he realized the mud beneath his feet was no ordinary earth, but a horrific slurry of congealed blood, shattered entrails, and the ashes of countless living beings.
The foul stench punched straight into his nasal passages, violently churning his stomach and sending a sickening wave of nausea rising to his throat. But he reacted instantly, biting down hard on the tip of his tongue. The pungent, numbing taste of metallic blood dragged him back to absolute lucidity.
“Could this be... the Primeval Battlefield?”
Lin Feng lifted his head, his gaze sharp as a razor blade sweeping across the landscape before him.
The sky was completely torn apart. There was no blue sky or white clouds; instead, the dome of heaven was stained a violent crimson, as if slashed open by giant blades, leaving behind gaping wounds that oozed thick, dark blood, dripping heavily down onto the earth. The moment those blood-rain droplets touched the air, they ignited into bizarre, eerie blue flames, turning the entire battlefield into a colossal purgatory.
The surroundings were breathtakingly silent, save for the space-ripping roars of otherworldly fiendbeasts. Far on the distant horizon, colossal silhouettes hundreds of meters tall strode forward, their bodies covered in black scales, sharp horns sprouting from their heads, and eyes blazing red like seas of blood. They trampled over the corpses of countless human soldiers, crushing towering mountains into dust.
Yet what made Lin Feng’s heart skip a beat wasn’t the fiendbeasts’ fury, but the extreme, unyielding resilience of the human race.
Right before his eyes, tens of thousands of warriors clad in battered armor stood straight, their bodies riddled with fatal wounds—some even missing arms and legs, their internal organs exposed—yet they remained upright. They used broken lances jammed deep into the ground as support, their calloused hands gripping tightly onto battle standards stained black with blood. Not a single cry of agony, not a flicker of fear in their eyes. There was only one flame burning fiercely to the bitter end: to fight to the death without retreating a single step!
“Countless years ago, they too fought amidst this very scene...” Lin Feng muttered, his fingers unconsciously clenching into fists.
Suddenly, from the depths of the void, an invisible yet crushing pressure as heavy as Mount Tai slammed down mercilessly upon his head.
Snap!
Lin Feng’s knees buckled slightly, the ground beneath his boots shattering into spiderweb cracks. This mental pressure was not aimed at the physical body; it pressed directly down upon his soul, his dantian, and every single nerve cell. It felt as though millions of wandering souls were shrieking inside his mind, forcing him to kneel, forcing him to bow in submission before the absolute might of antiquity.
“You want me to kneel? In your dreams!”
Lin Feng let out a muffled roar from the depths of his throat. He channeled his power to the absolute limit, dark magic and golden light surging wildly from his dantian to form a protective barrier around his sea of consciousness. Gritting his teeth, veins bulged furiously across his temples as he glared upward, his jaws clenched so tightly they ground together with a grinding screech. Every muscle in his body trembled violently beneath the crushing weight of a thousand tons.
At that exact moment, an ancient, resonant voice—deep and booming like a bronze bell echoing from an endless primordial era—directly invaded Lin Feng’s sea of consciousness:
“Lin Feng... To cultivate to the realm you stand in today, what on earth is your ultimate purpose?”
That voice carried the supreme majesty of an emperor ruling the world, imbued with a power that pierced straight through the heart and compelled one to utter the truest answer buried deep within their soul.
Lin Feng gritted his teeth, cold sweat pouring profusely from his forehead, streaming down his cheeks to drip into the bloody mud. He let out a cold, raspy laugh, his voice hoarse yet unyielding:
“What a redundant question! I cultivate for myself, for my own survival and absolute freedom!”
“Only for yourself?” The ancient voice carried a deep, enigmatic undertone, suddenly ringing like thunder beside his ear, accompanied by a fatal temptation.
Boom!
The space before Lin Feng abruptly shifted. The blood-soaked battlefield scene instantly vanished, replaced by a magnificent, towering palace forged of pure gold and jade, perched atop the highest peak of the world.
Standing at the center of the grand hall was a regal throne crafted from the bones of gods, radiating a supreme aura of absolute authority. Surrounding the throne, millions of living beings from various realms knelt upon the ground, chanting his name and offering countless heavenly treasures, rare resources, and breathtaking beauties—whatever power and wealth he desired, he could have.
“All you have to do is bow and accept your place as the lord of this realm, and everything shall be yours.” The seductive voice whispered by his ear, like a hypnotic spell burrowing into Lin Feng’s sanity. “You won’t need to risk your life fighting evil gods, nor will you need to protect weak strangers who mean nothing to you. You will stand at the supreme peak, living eternally, ruling over the life and death of all things.”
Supreme power! To become a lonely monarch holding absolute, unrivaled authority!
Lin Feng’s gaze flickered. For a fleeting second, the image of that lavish throne was clearly reflected in his pupils. It was something any cultivator in this world craved—the ultimate pinnacle of the strong.
Yet, in less than a heartbeat, that flicker of hesitation vanished instantly, replaced by a bone-chilling coldness and a mocking, disdainful smirk.
“Ruling over a bunch of mindless corpses and puppets beneath my feet—what the hell is so enjoyable about that throne?”
Lin Feng snapped his head up, his clenched fist suddenly throwing a brutal punch straight into the illusory space ahead!
Crash!
His fist-wind, carrying the might of thunder and roaring dark flames, shattered the luxurious palace into countless fragments. The golden illusion collapsed, plunging him back into the bloody Primeval Battlefield filled with ear-splitting roars.
The ancient voice rang out once more, carrying a hint of surprise and an even more terrifying wave of coercion: “You renounce supreme power? Then why do you risk your life plunging into this sea of blood? Could it be for fame, to be worshiped by mankind and have your name echo through eternity?”
“Fame?” Lin Feng burst into loud laughter, his laughter carrying an arrogant mockery that echoed across the blood-drenched sky. “Can fame fill an empty stomach? When I die and my ashes don’t even have a plot of earth, will fame resurrect me? I was never some noble, righteous savior meant to rescue the world!”
“Then why didn’t you run? Why do you still stand here, facing overwhelming enemies without taking a single step back?” The voice interrogated relentlessly, the mental pressure multiplying instantly.
Crack, crack!
The bones throughout Lin Feng’s body emitted agonizing cracking sounds. The pressure was now heavy enough to force his frame down centimeter by centimeter. Fresh blood seeped from the corners of his lips, staining the front of his robes. Yet, his spine remained as straight as an ancient pine tree rooted deep into the cliffside, refusing to bend or snap even by a hair’s breadth.
He rolled his bloodshot eyes, glaring directly up at the churning black clouds from whence the voice originated, his words freezing cold, dripping with monstrous killing intent yet terrifyingly resolute:
“I am not saving the world! I am only protecting what belongs to me!”
“My friends stand behind me, my woman is sheltered by my own hands, and this land is where I was born and where I belong. If these otherworldly fiendbeasts want to cross this ground, if they want to trample over the heads of my people, they will have to walk over my corpse first!”
“I don’t need anyone’s worship, nor do I need anyone’s charity. I only wish to stand at the summit with these two hands, so that not a single soul can ever threaten, trample, or dictate the lives of the people I care about!”
“This—is my will!”
Rumble— rumble— rumble!
The moment those final words left his lips, the entire Primeval Battlefield shook violently. The torn sky suddenly burst open with a blinding golden beam that pierced straight through the rain of blood. Tens of thousands of warriors kneeling across the battlefield abruptly raised their heads in unison, bowing deeply toward Lin Feng.
The crushing mental pressure that had weighed upon Lin Feng vanished like mist under the morning sun. In its place, a warm, surging current poured into his soul, expanding his spiritual perception to its absolute limit and completely transcending him to a brand-new realm.
Lin Feng’s pupils constricted as he caught sight of a majestic, regal phantom draped in imperial robes slowly materializing mid-air, its gaze fixed upon him filled with profound appreciation and expectation.
Before Lin Feng could fully steady his mind, however, the space around him abruptly split open with a pitch-black fissure. From within that tear, a colossal arm covered in pitch-black dragon scales, radiating an oppressive aura of death and terrifying destructive laws, violently stabbed out of the void and lunged straight for his throat!
“What?!” Lin Feng’s expression shifted drastically.