Ascension of The Unholy Immortal-Chapter 372: Astral King

The Heaven’s End Pavilion’s headquarters was a world unto itself, a colossal spacecraft woven into the fabric of a pocket dimension accessible only through intricate spatial coordinates.

Upon arrival, Ren Shui, Zi Er, and Li Song were immediately swept into a tide of urgency. Cultivators of all levels hurried through the corridors, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and grim determination.

"Senior Brother Ren!" A harried-looking cultivator in the distinctive robes of the Pavilion’s intelligence branch intercepted them. "The Pavilion Lord requests your immediate presence in the Grand Assembly Hall. The situation is dire. Proceed directly."

Ren Shui nodded curtly, leaving Zi Er and Li Song behind.

"Word has it that the Pavilion Lord has secured a fragment of the Heavenly Will and is en route to Astral King," the man explained hurriedly, leading the way.

As they reached the assembly room, only the core members of the pavilion were present: the four half-step Void Return Realm experts—Iron Abbot Xue, Vermilion Blade Lian, Silent Oracle Wen, and Thrice-Cursed Hong—along with eighteen Void Transformation Realm experts.

***

Shadow Exalt appeared in a barren wasteland at the edge of the Martial Rising Realm. The cracked earth stretched endlessly under a blood-red sky, and the air hummed with unstable energy. He glanced around cautiously before vanishing into thin air.

When he reappeared, he let out a slow breath. "Finally."

Though the space around him looked empty, he stood just outside the invisible barrier protecting the Astral King’s hidden base. One step forward, and he’d be inside its legendary defense formation—a shield so powerful that even a peak Void Return Realm expert couldn’t touch him here.

He stepped through.

Instantly, the air grew cooler, cleaner. Runes flickered faintly under his feet like submerged stars. Shadow Exalt relaxed his shoulders, the tension easing. Safe.

Before him loomed the Astral King—a colossal fortress shaped like a jagged black warship, its surface crawling with glowing energy veins. Towering spires pierced the sky, and massive cannons hummed with dormant power. Shadow Exalt floated toward the main gate, his spatial ring holding the Heaven Will Fragment.

But as he raised his hand to unlock the entrance, his blood turned to ice.

He spun around.

Three figures in black robes materialized inside the protective formation. Their hoods hid their faces, and strange energy rippled off them like a mist.

"Did you truly think stealing Heaven’s Will would go unpunished, little thief?"

Shadow Exalt’s eyes narrowed. No one should have been able to breach the Astral King’s defenses. Yet here they stood—close enough to strike. His mind raced. The Heavenly Will Fragment pulsed in his ring, almost mockingly.

He smirked, masking his unease. "You’ve walked into a tomb. This formation answers to me."

The trio didn’t flinch. The space beneath them began to rot, their auras sealing the void.

The leader chuckled. "Your shield is strong...but we’re already inside."

Shadow Exalt’s fingers twitched, ready to summon the fortress’s weapons. But doubt crept in—how had they slipped past his defenses? And why did their presence feel...familiar?

Shadow Exalt had won the Heaven Will Fragment at the auction fair and square—or so he thought. Now, three black-robed figures surrounded him, their auras suffocating. All three radiated the crushing pressure of late Void Return Realm experts, far surpassing his own mid-stage Void Return cultivation.

Before Shadow Exalt could react, the attackers moved.

The leading figure raised a hand glowing with runes. Space itself screamed as a massive black spear materialized, its tip dripping liquid void. With a roar, he hurled it at the Astral King fortress. The spear struck the warship’s energy shield, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then—crack. The shield splintered like glass, and the spear plunged into the fortress’s main cannon. A shockwave of energy erupted, tearing through walls and floors.

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Inside the Astral King,

The core members—Iron Abbot Xue, Vermilion Blade Lian, Silent Oracle Wen, and Thrice-Cursed Hong—had been gathered in the war room. Dozens of Void Transformation Realm elites stood guard.

The explosion hit without warning.

The ceiling collapsed. Half the Void Transformation cultivators disintegrated instantly, their bodies vaporized by the spear’s corruptive energy. Vermilion Blade Lian barely raised her sword in time, deflecting debris with a blood-red barrier. "We’re under attack? Inside the formation?!" she shouted.

Thrice-Cursed Hong coughed blood as his stolen organs ruptured. "The shield—it’s gone!"

The unrestrained power of an attack from a late-stage Void Return Realm expert is catastrophic, capable of annihilating entire civilizations and laying waste to small realms or pocket dimensions like the Astral King’s. The sheer force of such an attack would be enough to shatter the fabric of reality, leaving behind a chaotic void where once there was life and order.

Even the residual energy from such a devastating attack would be incredibly potent and lethal, more than sufficient to instantly obliterate an ordinary Void Transformation Realm expert caught within its wake.

The mere thought of a late-stage Void Return Realm expert unleashing their full power sends shivers down the spines of even the most seasoned cultivators, for it represents a level of destruction that few can comprehend and even fewer can withstand.

The remaining two figures lunged at Shadow Exalt. The woman on the left chanted in a dead language, her fingers weaving a cursed seal. Shadow Exalt’s shadow suddenly twisted, wrapping around his legs like chains. At the same time, the third attacker—a hulking man with glowing cracks in his skin—slammed a fist coated in star-devouring flames toward Shadow Exalt’s chest.

Shadow Exalt barely dodged, his cloak shredding as the flames grazed his arm. The curse binding his shadow tightened, drawing blood. "Who sent you?!" he growled, summoning a blade of condensed dark qi.

The female attacker laughed. "You stole what belongs to the ancient."

Inside the Astral King:

The fortress shook violently. Corridors collapsed, trapping cultivators. Screams echoed as the remaining Void Transformation elites tried to flee—only to be consumed by the black spear’s lingering corruption.

Iron Abbot Xue roared, his stone armor glowing as he shielded Silent Oracle Wen. "Regroup! Activate the emergency arrays!"

But it was too late. Of the original twenty Void Transformation elites, only ten survived—many missing limbs or bleeding from cursed wounds. The four half-step Void Return experts stood battered but alive, their higher cultivation the only reason they’d endured.

Silent Oracle Wen clutched his head, blood seeping from his stitched eyelids. "The attackers...they’re not here for the fragment alone. They’re cleansing us..."

Outside:

Shadow Exalt sliced through the shadow-binding curse, but the third attacker’s starfire fist struck his ribs. He flew backward, crashing into the Astral King’s hull. Blood dripped from his lips as he glared at his foes. "You think this ends here?"

The female black-robed figure sneered. "Your fortress is already dead. You’re just the last rat to drown."