Jin Rilie walked alongside his son, Jin Shitai, toward the Heavenly Execution Platform. They passed through layer upon layer of pavilions and towering halls until they finally stood before a vast and imposing temple.
The temple loomed above them, its entrance reached by three thousand six hundred jade steps. Lining both sides of the staircase were countless weapons — blades, axes, hooks, chains, swords, spears, halberds, hammers, maces — each one enormous, ten times larger than ordinary weapons. The sight was like stepping into a world of giants, yet the atmosphere was solemn, majestic, and thick with the aura of death.
This was the Heavenly Execution Hall — the very heart of judgment within the Celestial Ascension Palace.
The entire palace itself floated amidst the clouds like an endless sky-city. No one knew how vast it truly was, or what mysterious power kept it suspended in the heavens. But among all its grand halls, none carried a more suffocating sense of dread than this place.
Even someone as proud as Jin Shitai couldn't suppress a shiver. Since the founding of the Ascension Sect, the Heavenly Execution Platform had been the site where countless mighty beings were slain — their power spanning worlds, their ends written here in blood. Retribution was carried out in heaven's name, and karma never failed.
Jin Rilie straightened his robes and began the ascent. Each jade step bore dark stains — traces of ancient blood that had long seeped into the stone. Though his cultivation allowed him to fly, he dared not. No one did. It was a rule of the sect — even elders must walk.
At the top, a vast square unfolded before them, and at its center stood a colossal execution platform, nine zhang tall, wide, and long. It wasn't made of jade, but of some ancient, rugged stone that exuded an aura of age and desolation. No one knew what material it was forged from.
This was the true Heavenly Execution Platform — where traitors were slain, gods and demons were judged, and true disciples settled life-and-death duels.
Blood-stained steps. Weapons like a forest.
A majestic temple. A boundless square.
An ancient stone altar.
Together, they formed a painting of divine judgment.
Jin Shitai's eyes widened — not at the platform itself, but at the figures standing upon the square. Among them was Fang Qinxue, his sworn enemy from the Violet Lightning Peak. And beside her stood a calm, moon-browed Daoist in azure robes.
"Senior Brother Tiandu!" Jin Shitai exclaimed.
It was Hua Tiandu — the first true disciple of the sect, master of the Celestial Yang Whip, and the one who had rescued Mo Shijie and Yuan Jiankong from peril.
"Elder Tianxing," Hua Tiandu said formally, ignoring Jin Shitai. "The disciples I rescued — all but one, Liu Kang, have survived and been cleansed of the Six Desires Yin Thunder. However, their flying swords were lost. Even Yuan Jiankong's Silver Serpent Sword is gone. My own Celestial Yang Whip seems to have been destroyed. This is no small matter. I've come to report it. First, to determine punishment for those who lost their weapons; second, to track down where those treasures went."
A lazy voice drifted from deep within the hall. "Lost their swords? Even the Celestial Yang Whip? Useless fools! Hua Tiandu, you'll investigate this yourself. Retrieve the sect's treasures — the Ascension Gate may be vast, but even we can't afford such losses. Those disciples are to be locked in the Celestial Prison for three months, stripped of all elixirs. Let them eat from the Five Qi Cauldron instead — if they can lose their weapons, they're not fit to cultivate divine arts."
"Yes, Elder." Hua Tiandu bowed. "However, Yuan Jiankong is tenth on the Mountain River Ranking — a gifted disciple, close to breaking into the Divine Ability Realm. To halt his elixirs—perhaps the Elder might—"
"Enough!" The voice turned sharp. "Rules are rules. No exceptions. Go — I grant you full authority to investigate and punish as you see fit. This is the Heavenly Execution Order. With it, you may command any disciple — even elders. The Celestial Yang Whip was a treasure forged by Master Ruyi himself; it must not fall into foreign hands. Lest other sects mock us."
A streak of light shot out from the hall, landing in Hua Tiandu's hand — a dark golden command token pulsing with power.
"One more thing," the voice added. "Some of the outer disciples are growing restless. Restore order. I do not wish to see the Heavenly Platform stained with blood every day."
Hua Tiandu accepted the token with a faint smile. Turning, he met Fang Qinxue's cold gaze. "Junior Sister Fang," he said, "it's said that one of your followers, Fang Han, carries a demonic treasure — a gift from you — and that he defeated an inner disciple, seizing his sword. He was also involved in the recent disaster. The elder has granted me the power of life and death. I intend to investigate — and perhaps question your people. I say this to you now, so there'll be no misunderstandings later."
Hua Tiandu's tone was calm, measured — every word deliberate, revealing the poise of a leader-in-waiting.
Fang Qinxue snorted coldly. "Yes, Fang Han carries the Seven Fiends Gourd — a relic I took from the demonic prodigy Wang Molin. I granted it to him. He's a man I admire — loyal and fearless. When the Demon Marshal offered him seven flying swords, he refused them all. If you wish to investigate, do as you must. But if Fang Han suffers so much as a scratch, I'll take it to the Sect Master herself."
Hua Tiandu inclined his head slightly. "Then I'll proceed as I always do — with fairness. Otherwise, the Elder would never have entrusted me with the Heavenly Execution Order. Farewell, Junior Sister."
With that, he descended the jade steps, his robes flowing like clouds, his bearing that of a future master.
"Elder!" Jin Shitai dropped to his knees. "You must deliver justice for me!"
The elder's voice replied, calm yet distant. "I've heard of your arm. Fang Qinxue already explained — Shi Longzi challenged Ying Tianqing and lost. As for the Demon Marshal who crippled you both, I'll see to him myself in time. But Fang Qinxue is blameless. In fact, she faced a demonic god's avatar beneath the earth and triumphed, earning great honor for our sect. I've already recommended her to enter the Little Immortal Realm to pursue the Heaven-Man Stage. When she succeeds, the Ascension Gate will gain another master of the Fifth Divine Ability — one who can forge true spiritual artifacts."
"What?" Jin Shitai gasped. Even Jin Rilie's expression hardened.
The Heaven-Man Stage — the fifth level of the Divine Ability Realm — was no small feat. One who reached it could commune with heaven and earth, forge powerful artifacts, and extend their lifespan to eight hundred years.
The Ten Divine Stages were:
Arcane ForceTrue EssenceAstral QiYin-YangHeaven-ManUnityGolden Core SeedFire-Wind TribulationHeaven-Earth ManifestationFate Reversal
Each step was a trial beyond imagination — a leap toward immortality.
"Humph! Elder Tianxing, have you thought this through?" Jin Rilie barked. "That girl consorts with the Demon Emperor's son! If something happens in the Little Immortal Realm, will you bear the blame?"
"Mind your tongue," the elder replied lazily. "Your son's a disappointment. Even with the Yin-Yang Longevity Pill you begged for him, he's made no progress. Do you really think he can topple a true disciple with limitless potential?"
"You—!" Jin Rilie's face flushed with anger. "Fine! I'll take this to the Sect Master myself!"
"Be my guest."
The voice grew faint again, ending the audience.
"Qinxue," the elder murmured, "go. Enter the Little Immortal Realm. Leave everything behind. Break through."
——
In the Courtyard of Sleeping Immortals, three days passed swiftly. Early that morning, Fang Han awoke from deep sleep and stretched. His joints crackled like thunder, his tendons snapping taut like bowstrings. Every inch of his body pulsed with raw vitality.
When he rose, he found himself half a head taller than before.
He reached out — his hand closed around the edge of the hardwood bed, and with a casual squeeze, the wood splintered like tofu. He picked up a ceramic cup, pressed lightly — it shattered to dust between his fingers.
"What strength!" he murmured, eyes alight. "I must have the strength of several hundred horses now. Time to see what the Demonic Battlefield truly holds."