Ascension of The Unholy Immortal-Chapter 421: Ten Thousands

The hesitation in the nascent divinity's eyes soon vanished, replaced by purpose.

With a final seal, the twenty runic chains quivered—then pulsed with eerie brilliance. The bound spectral veins, still coiled in chains, began to shimmer faintly, their forms growing increasingly incorporeal. Then, in a single breathless instant, all twenty were torn from Liang's physical vessel.

Liang's body trembled violently, as if the very core of his existence was about to collapse under the strain.

A shimmering mark appeared on his forehead— Universe Rune flickered erratically before transforming into the Spirit Genesis Rune. His flesh and bones began warping, folding inwards like a collapsing star, his form distorting into a swirling wormhole.

Around him, the ambient Spirit Qi was sucked in with terrifying force, drawn into the vortex that was now his body. Liang struggled to stabilize himself, battling the chaotic forces that threatened to consume him from within.

Just moments ago, the spectral veins had vanished from his physical form as the nascent divinity teleported away. Now, those veins fluctuated wildly—shifting continuously between corporeal and incorporeal states inside his body, as if caught between existence and oblivion.

A low rumble echoed from deep within the miniature universe.

Far in the northern quadrant of this universe, nestled in a remote star system perpetually blanketed in frost, a planet stirred to life.

This world had remained untouched since the universe's birth—its surface locked in glacial silence, its skies a mirror of frozen stillness. And yet, deep within its crust, a colossal river flowed ceaselessly, its waters formed of pure Yin Qi.

It was there the veins would be planted.

This was the new plan Liang had conceived.

Instead of forcefully cultivating the Ten Thousand Nether Veins within his own body—a path fraught with peril and unpredictable consequences—he would transfer the power directly into the fabric of his miniature universe.

By embedding the twenty spectral veins into this immense stream of Yin Qi coursing beneath the frozen planet's surface—he would allow them to take root and expand naturally.

Harnessing the laws of his universe, Liang intended to pour the essence of his universe into the river, nourishing these veins until they multiplied, blossoming into ten thousand, virtually cultivating the technique to perfection.

As the veins spread through the river's flow, their existence would no longer be confined to the corporeal or spiritual. Instead, they would fuse seamlessly with the universal laws—transforming from mere technique into an intricate lattice of runic chains of law.

This web would extend across the universe, weaving through stars and worlds, forming a complete Netherworld.

This foundation would not only fill the gaps in his universe but also become the gateway to cultivating the Second Heaven.

The Boundless Universe Art had described in painstaking detail how to achieve the First Heaven—the birth of the universe, the forging of basic laws, the shaping of time and space. That part had been clear. Precise. Intentional.

But now…

There was nothing.

The rest was up to him.

He drifted in thought, gazing inward at the frozen planet now pulsing faintly with Yin Qi, deep within the river where the Twenty Spectral Veins were already beginning to stretch and branch like ghostly roots.

The laws of netherworld were forming—not as abstract insights, but as real, physical constructs merging into the fabric of the universe.

"So this is the path," Liang thought. "The Second Heaven… it cannot be taught. It must be felt. Realized. Shaped by will and necessity." frёeωebɳovel.com

The First Heaven had been creation. But what use was creation without conclusion? Without consequence?

"Death is not destruction," he realized. "It is transition."

This was not simply about cultivating power or reaching the next realm. It was about balance. Life and death. Light and shadow. Existence and return.

"The First Heaven birthed a world. The Second Heaven will give that world purpose and turning point"

The spectral veins would grow, weaving a vast network that stretched through his universe, carrying the laws of the Netherworld along every current of Yin Qi. They would become the unseen framework that governed fate and karma, silently shaping the destiny of all future beings.

Already, he could feel the subtle shifts—the faint resonance of the laws growing more complex.

Liang's lips curled faintly.

"If the First Heaven made me the Creator… then the Second makes me the Arbiter."

Beyond this, he could already sense the stirrings of a Third Heaven—a realm where true life would emerge. But he would not rush. The Netherworld must come first. Its laws must stabilize. Its web must be complete.

Only then could souls exist. Only then could karma flow.

Only then could his universe be truly alive.

And so, he turned back toward the frost-blanketed planet.

A vision appeared in his mind's eye: the icy river swelling and flowing beyond its physical boundaries, becoming an immense illusory river, stretching across the cosmic expanse.

Meanwhile, The twenty chains streaked across the stars, plunging into the planet's atmosphere like comets of spectral ice. They descended into the river —like roots seeking soil—burrowed into its depths.

The spectral veins unraveled, stretching along the riverbed, winding through the icy flow. Each vein merged with the river's natural current, turning the entire waterway into a living circulatory system of Yin essence. The cold thickened. The flow slowed. The stars above dimmed slightly, as if holding their breath.

From the heart of his universe, Liang stood with his nascent divinity overlooking the planet. He raised both hands—and summoned the laws of his universe.

Countless silver and golden threads of law, previously dormant, began to descend upon the river.

Nourish!

With that single command, the laws sank into the river like rain into soil. The twenty spectral veins, now fused with the river, began to multiply—splitting like cells, weaving into one another, expanding.

Twenty became a hundred. A hundred became a thousand.

Then—ten thousand.

And as the Ten Thousand Nether Veins reached completion, something impossible happened.

Had Tian Shu witnessed it with his own eyes, he likely would not have believed it. To his knowledge, forming ten thousand veins was the pinnacle of the technique—a lofty goal he had long aspired to. Never had he imagined that something lay beyond it.