Myth Beyond Heaven

Buzz—

A tremor, sharp and sudden, ripped through the fabric of reality at the tomb's entrance. The air above the desolate plains surrounding the God Tomb shimmered, warping and distorting like a desert mirage caught in a swirling wind. Then, with a deafening crack that echoed across the wasteland, the shimmering distortion tore open, revealing a scene of celestial grandeur.

Floating amidst a swirling vortex of nebulae and stardust were figures that defied mortal comprehension. Clad in shimmering robes woven from the very fabric of the cosmos, these were the True Gods of the Primordial God Tribe, their presence warping reality itself.

A crown of swirling galaxies adorned the head of the lead deity. His beard cascaded down like shimmering constellations. His eyes, burning with the fires of a thousand supernovae, swept across the desolate landscape, taking in the crumbling remnants of the once-mighty God Tomb.

Beside him stood a woman, her form radiating a luminescence that rivaled a million suns. A shimmering nebula swirled around her outstretched hand, crackling with chaotic energy. Her gaze, piercing as a neutron star's core, scanned the tomb, searching for any sign of disturbance.

Others followed, each an embodiment of a celestial principle: a being of thunderous storms, another crackling with the fury of lightning, a third radiating the serene calm of a cosmic ocean. Their arrival sent tremors through the very earth, a silent symphony of power announcing their presence.

The God Tomb's once-all-encompassing silence felt heavy now, charged with anticipation. These beings, who had witnessed the birth and death of stars, had come to this desolate place for a reason. Whether it was to reclaim a lost power, prevent an ancient evil from awakening, or simply observe the audacity of a mortal attempting to breach the tomb's defenses, only they knew.

"Someone has arrived before us," the woman spoke calmly.

A frown creased the thunderous being's face. "This aura... The Netherworld?"

"Si Junyi," another man, with a serene demeanor, said gently. "It seems he couldn't wait."

"Unfortunately," the windstorm figure sighed. "Our big fish hasn't arrived yet."

"Let's meet the Tomb Protectors," the crowned deity declared calmly.

Without waiting for a response, he strode forward, heading towards the ruined temple in the distance.

The other four exchanged a brief glance before following suit.

***

Within the training chamber, Yun Lintian resembled a storm about to burst. Beads of sweat, charged with crackling lightning sparks, rolled down his face.

His ragged breaths fanned miniature cyclones that swirled around him, threatening to tear the chamber apart. Days of relentless channeling had pushed him to the precipice. His divine core, a churning vortex of raw energy, hung on the brink of a breakthrough.

Standing at the corner of the room, Long Qingxuan watched Yun Lintian attentively, prepared to rescue him at any moment.

A century had passed since they returned to the training chamber. During this period, Long Qingxuan and Yun Lintian continued to practice without stopping. Their strength grew tremendously. Long Qingxuan had successfully reached the peak level of the Middle God Realm without any hindrance, while Yun Lintian was on the verge of achieving godhood.

Long Qingxuan lamented in her heart. Had she known earlier, she would have chosen this method a long time ago. The progress speed was terrifying, beyond anything she had ever known.

Rumble—

Above the Nine Firmament City, the twilight hues of the setting sun typically painted a breathtaking canvas across the sky. But today, a colossal vortex materialized directly above the city's central plaza, swirling with the primal energies of the world.

Miniature storms raged within, lightning danced in chaotic patterns, and tendrils of earth and fire snaked through the churning mass. The very air crackled with unseen power, sending shivers down the spines even of the most seasoned practitioners.

BANG!

A century. A hundred years trapped within the sterile confines of this chamber, his only solace was the companionship of Long Qingxuan and the relentless pursuit of power. Yet, as Yun Lintian unleashed the final, earth-shattering roar, the weight of that time seemed to melt away. The chamber trembled, the air itself warping under the strain of his breakthrough.

Long Qingxuan, ever vigilant, remained rooted by the corner. A flicker of concern crossed her eyes before being masked by stoicism. Years of shared solitude had forged a silent understanding between them. She wouldn't intrude on this pivotal moment, but her hand hovered near a shimmering portal, a failsafe in case the raw power spiraled out of control.

BOOM—

Then, the dam broke. A torrent of energy, a maelstrom of wind, fire, earth, lightning, water, metal, wood, spatial, light, and darkness erupted from Yun Lintian's body.

The inscription runes, glowing desperately like a drowning man, strained to contain the burgeoning power. Cracks snaked across the chamber floor, the earth groaning like an overburdened beast. Even the air shimmered and distorted, unable to bear the raw power of a nascent god.

As the storm subsided, leaving behind an aura of crackling energy, Yun Lintian opened his eyes. No longer the color of mortal brown, they now swirled with the chaotic energy of a nascent storm.

A spark of lightning danced between his pupils, and a faint scent of ozone clung to him. He flexed his hand, and a miniature fireball materialized above his palm, pulsing with an infernal heat. With a thought, the fireball dissipated, replaced by a swirling vortex of wind that whipped around his form, mimicking a miniature tornado.

A century of relentless channeling had not just granted him godhood, it had forged an unprecedented connection with the fundamental forces of the world.

Fire danced at his command, wind obeyed his will, earth responded to his touch, and lightning crackled with his every breath. He was no longer just a practitioner but a god, a weaver of the very fabric of reality.

"Congratulations, husband," Long Qingxuan said, a hint of awe lacing her voice. "You've achieved what many spend millennia striving for."

Yun Lintian turned to her, a smile splitting his face. The raw power that radiated from him was both exhilarating and terrifying. He raised a hand, and a miniature storm cloud materialized above him, crackling with nascent lightning.

With a flash, Yun Lintian materialized before Long Qingxuan and pulled her into his embrace. "It wouldn't have been possible without you," he replied, his voice echoing in the chamber.

Long Qingxuan leaned against his chest, listening to the heartbeat of her beloved man in silence.

"I think I need to consolidate my power," Yun Lintian whispered in her ear with an evil grin…