Chapter Forty-Three: Breakthrough

The vortex loomed just ahead. Qin Shuang tried to evade it, but no matter how wildly he darted through the air, he always found himself facing the raging tornado head-on. The tornado moved with terrifying speed, and its immense suction, born of its furious spin, swallowed Qin Shuang in the blink of an eye.

A gale as fierce as any storm in the Divine Realm slammed into him, knocking him askew. He spun helplessly through the air dozens of times before finally managing to steady himself, expending tremendous effort as the tornado continued to whirl him around.

At this point, there was no longer room for choice. Cursing inwardly, Qin Shuang summoned his immortal energy to envelop his entire body, holding it in place with grim determination.

The wind battered him with ten times the force of before, and even the finest immortal armor would have been obliterated in an instant. His body, as tough as a superior artifact, was shredded in moments, covered in countless wounds.

Clenching his teeth, Qin Shuang sent his immortal energy surging through his body, desperately healing the wounds carved by winds sharper than blades. Yet the tornado’s power was simply overwhelming; no matter how frantically he restored himself, the tearing winds outpaced him. Thin, agonizing cuts opened up all over his flesh, and in the blink of an eye, his body became riddled with holes, resembling a ragged sack.

“If this keeps up, I’ll die here!” His immortal energy surged like a tide, draining swiftly; in mere moments, more than half his strength was gone. A growing weakness seeped from deep within him, and Qin Shuang managed a bitter smile. If he couldn’t find a way to resist, he’d be torn apart by the relentless wind before he could endure it.

Thoughts raced through his mind as his body grew weaker, and his soul core began to dim. If he didn’t find a way out soon, he would become another lost soul beneath this tornado.

“No, I can’t just give up at the first sign of trouble!” he growled, biting down hard. Suddenly, the dim soul core burst forth with brilliant golden light.

The tornado, wild and blood-red from the seawater it carried, battered him relentlessly. Even his bones were torn apart, exposing the soul core in his brain and the nascent soul in his dantian.

“This pain… truly unforgettable!” His immortal energy was nearly spent, and the agony seemed to pierce his very soul, much like when he had swallowed that pill. Even his spirit could barely withstand it.

“So, this is my limit?” Qin Shuang teetered on the edge of collapse, barely clinging to consciousness.

“I really am useless. Not only in the Purple Profound Palace, but even on this Infinite Continent, I can’t pass a single trial.” Facing death, Qin Shuang recalled his life in the Purple Profound Palace.

“Why was I so stubborn? Wouldn’t it have been easier to swallow my pride and be a worthless nobody in the palace? Even those lofty Divine Kings and Holy Emperors played the part of humble servants there.

Thinking back, although Grandpa Lan and Grandma Zuo Qiu favored my brother, Uncle Black Feather, Uncle Hou Fei, and Grandpa Yi Feng treated me well, never regarding me as a failure.

So it was me, I forced my brother’s aura upon myself, chained myself with needless expectations.” At this moment, his body had almost vanished entirely, leaving only his soul core and nascent soul adrift.

“So tired… I need to rest…” Gradually, his consciousness faded, and the soul core dimmed.

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Lightning split the sky with a deafening crack. Two supreme primordial treasures absorbed much of the force, but even so, Qin Si dared not relax for a moment.

Divine power surged through his entire body into his superior celestial armor, which shimmered with rainbow light, clearly at its limit.

A bolt of lightning pierced through the two treasures and struck Qin Si directly.

The armor shattered with a crisp bang, fragments raining down onto the sea. The treasures had lessened the force, and the armor absorbed most of what remained, but the lingering energy still made Qin Si’s body tremble, his very soul quaking.

“So strong!” Qin Si no longer cared who had set up this cursed Sea of Tribulations; his only concern was surviving the first trial.

“There’s still one more superior celestial armor!” He quickly scanned his storage ring, “But I’ll save it for when it truly matters.”

The black vortex above continued to gather lightning, more terrifying than any cultivator’s Ninefold Tribulation. At least in that trial, there were only nine bolts to endure; here, Qin Si had no idea how many times he would be struck, only that the power was monstrous.

Another bolt crashed down, even thicker than before, striking him atop the head after passing through the treasures.

His soul rang with thunder, nearly shredded by the force. Fortunately, Qin Si’s spirit was strong enough to withstand the assault.

“Damn it.” He thought rapidly, “This is bad. Now I’ll have to spend another hundred years recovering.”

The lightning had dealt his already wounded soul another severe blow, and it would take centuries to heal.

The black vortex whirled faster, several times its previous speed, with black-purple lightning flashing wildly at its core.

“Still not done? Just wait—if you don’t kill me now, when I return to the Divine Realm, I’ll make you pay!” Qin Si shouted at the sky.

The vortex seemed displeased, gathering dozens of arm-thick lightning bolts in its center, pulsing as if storing energy.

Countless bolts struck at once, and Qin Si donned his remaining armor, channeling all his divine power to face this monstrous attack head-on.

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From a distance, the blood-red sea and the tornado—hundreds of miles in diameter—were awe-inspiring, powerful enough to obliterate superior artifacts instantly.

Yet within this wild tornado, a faint figure floated, untouched by the spinning force. A viscous aura enveloped him, immune to even the destructive power that could shatter artifacts.

“So comfortable…” Qin Shuang lay at the heart of the viscous substance, his soul not fully awakened, feeling as if wrapped in warmth, reminiscent of being held in his mother’s arms as a child.

As his consciousness flickered back, the viscous aura vanished, exposing him once more to the raging wind.

A gust slashed across his arm, opening a thin wound and jolting him awake.

“My body…” He realized, to his amazement, that his body had fully healed, his immortal energy restored, and most astonishing of all, his power had broken through from the eighth to the ninth level of the Immortal Emperor.

“My body… It’s even stronger than before.” Previously as tough as a superior artifact, his body now surpassed that, approaching the terrifying resilience of a lower-tier celestial artifact.

The tornado, which could instantly destroy a superior artifact, now only caused minor wounds that were easily healed by his immortal energy.

“Huh! Why isn’t the center of the wind spinning like the area I’m in?” A sudden gleam appeared in Qin Shuang’s eyes as he noticed something unusual about the tornado’s heart.

“Now it seems this tornado isn’t so fearsome after all.” Having undergone a transformation, Qin Shuang flashed through the wind’s periphery and reached its silent center.

Here, everything was still, as calm as a placid lake, with spiritual energy so dense it nearly became tangible. Qin Shuang felt suffocated amidst it.

Abundant spiritual energy, tranquil space, and outside, the destructive tornado still raged—a stark contrast.

As he marveled at the disparity, the tornado abruptly dissipated and the blood-red sea calmed, as if the storm had never existed.

“So, the first trial of the Sea of Tribulations is over.”

PS: Recommended—new novel “Epoch of Fires” by Yu Lei Man Jiang.

Synopsis: A hero’s small step, a giant leap for history. Robin’s small step, the dawn of a new era. The world is filled with justice and evil; the legends of heroes and demons never cease. The only difference is that heroes create history, while demons destroy it. History chooses its heroes; demons and heroes are destined to be rivals. The journey of legend is never easy; the path of the hero is never smooth. An epic tale, an immortal hero! The ancient legend begins with the Epoch of Fires.