Against the Gods: Acension

"You..."

The single word slipped from Mo Su's lips like a dagger barely restrained, as a thick vein pulsed violently along his temple. His vision wavered—not from exhaustion, but from the monumental effort it took to cage the storm of fury that had erupted within him. Even with a mind honed by millions of years of tempering, even with the unshakable will of one who stood at the peak of all existence, Yun Che's words had nearly shattered his composure.

Nearly.

"Calm yourselves..."The ancient voice of the Chief Priest echoed solemnly within the minds of all present, its sacred resonance weaving through the divine air like a silken thread. As if an invisible pressure was gently lifted from their hearts, the enraged beings slowly began to regain control of their emotions, one after another withdrawing their killing intent.

"To be honest, this Emperor never intended to offend any of you."

High above the crowd, Yun Che let out a long, regretful sigh, his expression a mask of false remorse as he slowly shook his head. The solemn gesture, paired with his unexpectedly soft tone, seemed to slightly ease the tension below. Several Gods let out light huffs, as if pacified—misreading his tone as humility, or perhaps an olive branch.

Yet just as stillness began to return, Yun Che's voice rang out once more, calm and cutting, shattering the fragile silence like thunder splitting the heavens.

"It's just that... all of you gathered here today... are simply... far too weak."

"Ai..."

Another sigh escaped him, this one carrying a weight of exaggerated pity, as though he were mourning their inferiority.

"...."

"You... YOU… YOU!!!"

Mo Su's voice thundered with such rage that it shook the divine court. He nearly toppled from his throne, his hand trembling violently as it clenched against the carved armrest—so hard that fractures webbed across the ancient divine stone. The veins on his forehead bulged like writhing serpents, his spiritual aura on the brink of eruption.

And if the mighty Mo Su—the most composed among them—was driven to such a state, then the reaction of the rest was predictable.

Their eyes burned crimson. Their pride, trampled. Their fury, uncontainable.

"YOU FUCKER!!!"

"HOW DARE YOU LOOK DOWN ON US?!!"

"GO TO HELL!!!!"

BOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!

In an instant, several divine auras erupted with deafening fury as one figure after another shot toward Yun Che like enraged celestial beasts unchained. The might of countless Peak Divine Limited Realm cultivators exploded forth simultaneously, shaking the very heavens. A thunderous shockwave tore through the Pure Land, turning the once-serene divine realm into a maelstrom of chaos and wrath.

"DIEEEEEE!!!"

The bloodcurdling roar echoed across the sky like a thousand bolts of divine lightning slamming into the firmament. A torrent of divine might surged forward from every direction, the air itself howling beneath their charge.

From every side, figures lunged forth, their eyes bloodshot, veins bulging grotesquely across their foreheads. Their fury was not hidden, nor restrained—it was raw, blazing, and absolute. Their divine pride had been trampled underfoot... and they would see the one responsible torn apart.

From one side, a divine moon rose high, eclipsing the sun in a breathtaking, ominous spectacle. The sky above darkened, replaced by an ocean of stars that shimmered with serene yet oppressive radiance. The moon's silver glow poured down like a divine curtain of judgment, sanctifying the battlefield in an ethereal light. Beneath it, celestial figures surged forward, their divine weapons gleaming with cold killing intent.

From another direction, darkness descended like a living beast. A chorus of unearthly howls echoed through the void as a monstrous, spectral claw—forged entirely from darkness—ripped through the air, tearing space as if it were mere paper. From the heart of the void, a shadowed figure shot out with terrifying momentum, bringing the abyss with him.

Elsewhere, the cry of a Vermillion Bird split the heavens, its blazing wings igniting the skies in crimson fire. The divine flame danced and roared, scorching the very air as it twisted around the figure beneath it—a warrior wreathed in flame, eyes locked onto Yun Che with unshakable resolve.

And from another side, a blinding golden light erupted as a radiant figure tore through the air. Behind him, his colossal dharma body, shimmering in golden brilliance and towering to the skies, took form. A divine halberd appeared in his grasp, glinting with unstoppable might, as each step of his sent ripples across the heavens.

From the direction of the Dreamweaver and Heaven Breaker sides, two ancient figures soared forward with unmatched force. One radiated a sword intent so sharp it split the divine air itself, while the other exuded a strange aura—tranquil, surreal, and overwhelming—soothing yet terrifying, as if the entire world was being lulled into an inescapable, eternal dream.

These figures... each and every one of them stood proudly at the pinnacle of the Divine Limited Realm! Their auras surged like tidal waves, no weaker than Hua Qingying—the fabled Sword Fairy whose might brushed the edge of True Godhood itself!

They were none other than the former Divine Regents of past generations—those who once ruled supreme over their Divine Kingdoms. In the world of Gods, once a successor was chosen and inherited the God Source, the title and power of a True God would be passed down, allowing the former regents to step down willingly.

Yet such power came with a price. The acceptance of the God Source drastically shortened one's lifespan. And so, many of these former Divine Regents chose to seal themselves away using ancient life-preserving methods—entering deep slumber, waiting for the day their Kingdoms would call upon them once more in times of ultimate peril.

And now... that day had come.

But precisely because they had been sealed away for so long, they had no knowledge of Yun Che's terrifying rise. They knew not the name that had sent even Gods trembling. Their pride was still that of former rulers... and their fury, unrestrained.

"So what if you're a True God?! DIE!!!!"

Their deafening roars shook the heavens as their divine figures shot forth, wrapped in power vast enough to tear reality itself asunder.

Watching the incoming assault from every direction, Yun Che's gaze never wavered. Instead, he turned his eyes toward Mo Su and met them with a faint, knowing smile.

"He... he provoked us on purpose..."

That was the chilling realization that echoed through Mo Su's mind the moment he saw the curve of Yun Che's lips. But by then... it was already far too late. Those old monsters—those proud former Divine Regents—were already mid-strike, their wrath unstoppable.

BOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!

From all sides, torrents of divine power clashed in an earth-shattering explosion. The very fabric of space cracked and splintered as the impact detonated outward like a divine storm. The sheer force of the collision blasted countless weaker cultivators away, flinging them like fallen leaves caught in a hurricane.

And then—amidst the blinding light and roaring devastation—

"Is that all?"

A cold voice cut through the storm like a blade of ice, sending chills through even the most battle-hardened hearts. As the dust and divine energy slowly cleared, their eyes fell upon a scene that froze them in disbelief.

Around Yun Che's body, a thin yellow earthen barrier stood firm—unblemished, unmoved. Not a single strand of his hair was out of place. It wasn't protection born from fear... no, Yun Che simply didn't want his clothes to get dirty. That was all.

He hadn't even budged.

"Just a bunch of weaklings... You don't even deserve to stand before this Emperor—let alone step onto this stage."

"Scram..."

BOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!

As his frigid voice dropped like a divine decree, Yun Che's power erupted without mercy. The shockwave of his release sent every attacker hurtling backward like ragdolls, their figures crashing into the distance with thunderous force.

"UGH!!!!!!!!!!"

"ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!"

"PUKEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Agonized cries filled the air as blood sprayed in all directions, painting the sky crimson. The proud, ancient figures who had charged forth with unmatched fury were now hurled backward like broken dolls—bones shattered, organs ruptured, divine auras in disarray. Their once-mighty forms trembled, contorted in pain, as trails of blood marked their arc across the heavens.

Ironically—comically—it was as if fate itself had mocked them.

Just as their divine pressure had moments ago sent the weaker cultivators flying in every direction, now they themselves were flung just the same... scattered across the sky like leaves in a storm.

BOOOOMMMMM!!!!

Explosions rang out as their bodies smashed into buildings, divine palaces, and mountainsides, cratering the very land they once ruled. Their divine figures, twitching and soaked in blood, lay barely conscious. But despite the devastation... they were still alive.

And then, like a sovereign descending from the heavens, Yun Che cast his gaze downward.

With the might of a God and the calm of a monarch, he spoke—

"Anyone else?"

His voice was neither loud nor angry, but it reverberated with unshakable authority, carrying the weight of absolute dominance. The moment it fell, the sea of cultivators below could only tremble... and lower their heads in silence.

"Then know your place..."

Yun Che's cold, unfeeling voice echoed across the devastated land, reverberating deep into the hearts of all who heard it. Those near the battlefield—be they proud or defiant—could only clench their fists and grit their teeth in frustration and shame as their eyes slowly turned toward the one figure who stood above all others: the Abyssal Monarch, Mo Su.

As much as they loathed to admit it… they were powerless.

Against Yun Che, they were utterly insignificant.

Remaining here, where a battle between True Gods and Ancient True Gods was about to erupt, would not make them brave—it would only make them corpses. Worthless casualties swept away by power far beyond their reach.

"Go."

Mo Su's deep voice rumbled across the heavens, a simple word that carried undeniable weight. With a slow nod, he acknowledged the truth. But within that nod, for the briefest instant, a cold grin flickered across his eyes—a flash of something deeper, unreadable.

With the Abyssal Monarch giving his decree, the remaining Divine Limited Realm cultivators—those still barely standing—turned and began to retreat, scattering in all directions like ants fleeing a wildfire. None dared to linger. None wished to die a meaningless death.

RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

The heavens trembled.

As the crowd dispersed, the Ancient True Gods raised their hands in unison. Towering divine formations bloomed around them, conjuring barriers layered in countless seals, each one forged from the essence of their own worlds. In response, the True Gods followed, adding their own barriers atop the first—interlocking, reinforcing, shielding.

Within mere moments, the battlefield had transformed.

Where once the heavens were shared, now two worlds had been severed.

The realm of mortals and weaker gods was sealed away...

And in its place, a stage emerged—one where only the highest of beings would clash.

And at its center, every eye turned to one man.

Yun Che.

Staring at the newly formed barriers, Yun Che cast a glance of utter disdain outwardly, his eyes cold and scornful, as if mocking the Gods' efforts.

But within, his thoughts were far more composed… and calculating.

These barriers were no simple divine formations. Each one layered with the full might of a God's intent, crafted not just to separate realms—but to seal fates. Yun Che's gaze narrowed slightly, though no one could read his true thoughts from the surface.

The air grew heavy, suffocating in its stillness. His silent contempt weighed upon the realm like a looming thundercloud. Yet just as the atmosphere threatened to collapse—

A voice resounded.

"Yun Che."

Mo Su's voice boomed from his throne, no longer soft, no longer laced with observation or feigned civility. It came now like a divine decree—stern, absolute—echoing across the vast expanse of the Pure Land like the tolling of celestial judgment.

"I will not deny your growth... your strength..."

"Even I, who have lived since the Primordial Era, must give you praise."

There was no flattery in his tone, only the cold weight of truth spoken by one who had seen countless eons pass. His divine eyes locked onto Yun Che, their gaze neither wavering nor warm.

"But unfortunately, you have committed crimes—against the people of the Abyss... and against my dignity."

As those words fell, a terrifying chill radiated from Mo Su, his divine aura pressing down like the will of heaven itself.

"You... will be punished for your crimes."

"Since you've returned… let us continue from where we left off."

Mo Su's voice was calm, yet each word carried the weight of divine judgment. And then—like a manifestation of heavenly might itself—his figure vanished from the throne in an instant, only to reappear mere steps before Yun Che.

BOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!

A golden, razor-sharp aura exploded outward the moment he arrived, shaking the entire realm. The Pure Land quaked in dread as space itself twisted under the pressure, unable to bear the weight of his power.

RUMBBBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

It was as if the very heavens had been torn apart.

The ground cracked beneath his feet. The skies above darkened, shifting from serene blue to blood-red crimson. Behind him, worlds began to manifest—one after another—each orbiting around his divine form like celestial laws made manifest. They burned with indescribable brilliance, radiating both the light of genesis and the cold finality of annihilation.

Each world was vast and complete, forged through eons of divine cultivation, and their presence alone made the Pure Land tremble as if it stood at the brink of collapse.

The full majesty of Mo Su—the Monarch of the Abyss—was now on full display.

And in that moment, all bore witness to it:

The overwhelming, suffocating, absolute might of a Supreme Ancient True God.

Space shattered.

Heavenly laws bent.

Even with the barriers separating them, the weaker cultivators outside the battlefield dropped to their knees one after another—faces pale, bodies trembling violently, gasping for breath. Not because the pressure was directed at them… but simply because it existed. The sheer weight of Mo Su's divine presence was enough to cripple them.

As expected of the strongest.

As expected of the Monarch of the Abyss.

And then—

"For your crimes against the people of the Abyss,"

Mo Su's voice boomed with righteous fury, each word echoing like thunder forged from divine wrath,

"you will be punished for what you have done!"

His voice did not merely echo—it descended like a heavenly decree, reverberating through every layer of space, shaking the heavens and the earth alike. The skies darkened further beneath the weight of his divine judgment, and the ground quivered in response, as if kneeling to its sovereign.

That single command stirred the divine blood of every God present. From all sides, ancient auras erupted in a terrifying chorus—searing hot, bone-deep cold, suffocating pressure—each one belonging to a being that stood high above all creation.

Gods. Ancient True Gods.

Their power surged in unison, swelling beneath the Abyssal Monarch's banner, ready to descend upon Yun Che like the wrath of the heavens themselves.

"For my crimes?"

"Hahahaha... ridiculous!"

Yun Che's sneer was sharp and unyielding, cutting through the divine storm like a blade of mockery. Even as Mo Su's power surged with the force to shatter worlds, threatening to unravel the heavens themselves, Yun Che stood tall—robes billowing in the raging tempest, eyes filled with scorn rather than fear.

And then— The Heaven Smithing Devil Emperor Sword materialized in his hand, its emergence tearing open the air with a chilling hum. The chaotic storm twisted around him, drawn to the blade's presence like trembling shadows before a sovereign of calamity.

Yet strangely, the moment the sword appeared… Yun Che's figure dipped ever so slightly, lowering a fraction in the air.

For just a brief instant—barely noticeable to any watching—his body seemed to sink.

"...She gained weight again...!" That single thought passed through Yun Che's mind like a sigh in the middle of a storm. His brow twitched, his mouth tugged slightly at the corner.

As Yun Che's thoughts drifted back toward Mo Su, a silent sigh echoed within him, inaudible to the world, yet heavy with a thousand unspoken truths. For all the bravado, for all the chaos unfolding in the air between them, he knew, deep in his bones, that this spectacle was nothing more than a carefully staged performance—one where every movement, every word, was dictated not by hatred or righteousness, but by necessity and the crushing weight of responsibility.

As much as he longed to tear apart this pretense, to shatter the veil of hypocrisy and bring everything to its end with a single strike, he could not—not because he lacked the power, but because the rules had already been written, the stage set, and both of them, unwillingly or not, had to play their roles to the bitter end. Mo Su, the vaunted Abyssal Monarch, stood before him not as a man seeking justice, but as someone burdened with the same frustration, the same urgency, the same gnawing impatience to bring this ordeal to a close, and Yun Che could feel it clearly—feel the undercurrent of his emotions as though they were his own.

For all the righteous fury he displayed, for all the divine proclamations he hurled across the Pure Land, Mo Su's true desire was never vengeance, never justice, but something far more personal, more desperate—he wanted to know if Yun Che truly possessed what he sought most in the world. The anger in his eyes, the solemn decree of punishment, the grandiose posturing before the gods… it was all a fabrication, a mask worn not for Yun Che, but for the sake of appearances, for the Divine Kingdoms watching, for the ancient eyes of the heavens that loomed above.

Justice? Yun Che almost laughed aloud at the thought, his internal voice dripping with disdain. Justice, you say? Don't speak to me of justice, not when you were the one who nearly brought ruin to the Abyss itself—all for the sake of a single woman. You dare stand there and talk of crimes, when the very collapse of this realm bears your name.

And yet, for all his contempt, Yun Che couldn't deny a certain respect for Mo Su. Despite their history, despite the weight of the truth that lay hidden between them, the man still carried himself with the dignity of a ruler, still understood the gravity of perception and the importance of honor in a realm were appearances often outweighed reality.

Both of them understood that Yun Che held what Mo Su sought—but if they were to suddenly set aside all grievances and act as though none of it had ever happened, if they were to walk shoulder to shoulder without crossing blades first, then the image of the Abyssal Monarch would be nothing more than a shattered crown in the eyes of all who followed him.

This fight, this unavoidable clash between two beings who bore the weight of their worlds upon their backs, was not born from hatred or vengeance—but from the sheer, inescapable burden of the thrones they carried, and the crowns that dug mercilessly into their skulls.

But even with full understanding of the truth behind this orchestrated conflict—behind Mo Su's fury, behind the façade of righteousness that veiled his true intent—he, Yun Che, the Emperor of the God Realm, would not, could not, and would never go easy on him. This wasn't just a battle between two figures standing at the peak of existence—it was a statement to the entire Abyss, a message carved into the bones of heaven and earth alike, that no matter the era, no matter the realm, there could only be one ruler above all, one sovereign who stood at the summit of creation, and that sovereign could only be him.

So regardless of their shared understanding, regardless of the subtle, silent truce buried beneath the clash of divine might, Yun Che knew that he would have to reveal a glimpse—just a glimpse—of the power that truly resided within him. Enough to crush the pride of those who still clung to hope, enough to obliterate the last flicker of resistance hiding in the hearts of the Abyss, enough to make even the most ancient of True Gods lower their heads not out of fear, but out of absolute submission.

After all, in the end, they would all come to his realm.

Because the world—this world and any world beyond—was not vast enough to hold two rulers.