Ascension of The Unholy Immortal

"Fortunately, these dwarfs didn't leak anything." Liang's gaze flickered thoughtfully as he examined the jade scroll in his hand.

After emerging from the Yin Yang Abyssal Mountains, he hadn't gone straight to the Devil Realm to deliver the gemstone. Instead, he returned to the Dong Clan—not out of familial obligation, but for multiple strategic reasons. The first was to gather information: he needed to confirm whether the dwarfs had exposed him.

But unsurprisingly—or perhaps exactly as expected—they hadn't. It made perfect sense. With the disappearance of the Ninth King, they were now vulnerable without a divine-level expert to protect them. What Liang didn't know, however, was that their higher-ups had even sealed off the city indefinitely in response to the crisis.

The second reason for his return was the jade scroll itself—a direct message from Sun Wu. In it, Sun Wu informed Liang that he had settled scores with the Dong Clan on his behalf. From this point forward, they would treat him as a Supreme Guest Elder. Moreover, any child born between him and the Dong girl would bear *his* surname, not the Dong name. Sun Wu also encouraged him to make the marriage public and arrange a grand wedding as soon as possible, going so far as to provide a detailed list of who should—and shouldn't—be invited.

"This monkey certainly knows how to exploit a situation," Liang muttered under his breath, his eyes flashing with disdain. He understood precisely what Sun Wu was thinking.

Sun Wu wanted to use him as a bridge between the Dong Clan and the Divine Spirit Palace. This wasn't the first time such a tactic had been employed. Something similar had occurred before Liang's initial arrival in the Runestone Solar System. Back then, there had been a grand wedding between Dong Tian Shu and Bi Tian's daughter, Bi Jiangxi. That union had paved the way for an alliance between two supreme powers: the Dong Clan and the Mortal Ascension Legion.

Though Liang saw through Sun Wu's intentions, he wasn't particularly opposed to playing along—it benefited him too. In the past, the Dong Clan had used him. Now, things would be different. While the position of Supreme Guest Elder lacked the authority of the vice clan head role, it came close enough. More importantly, it granted Liang access to the Dong Clan's vast information network and resources—resources far greater than those of the Divine Spirit Palace.

Still, none of this was his primary motivation. Greater purposes drove him.

"Let them have their show," Liang murmured to himself, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "It will benefit me as well. It's time for me to step onto the stage."

Closing his eyes, his nascent divinity flickered slightly is suddenly disappeared, transporting to his Inner Universe.

The space stretched infinitely in every direction, filled with countless stars glowing faintly against an eternal night sky. Planets of varying sizes floated silently through this cosmic sea—some barren and rocky, others shrouded in swirling clouds or encased in crystalline ice—but none bore life. It was a pristine canvas awaiting creation.

In his hand rested the shimmering orb containing the compressed secret garden. Liang took a moment to survey the vast emptiness before him, considering where best to plant the miniature realm so it could thrive without interference.

"Somewhere stable," Liang murmured, his voice echoing faintly across the void. "A place close enough for easy access but far enough from chaotic energies."

With a flick of his fingers, threads of universe spiritual energy extended outward, weaving through the fabric of his Inner Universe. They acted as guides, mapping out potential locations until they settled on a small, uninhabited planet orbiting a dim yellow star. The planet had no atmosphere, its surface composed entirely of smooth black stone veined with veins of luminous silver. Perfectly isolated, perfectly serene.

Without hesitation, Liang teleported to the planet's surface, landing lightly on the cool, glassy terrain. He knelt down, pressing one palm flat against the ground. A pulse of energy rippled outward, reshaping the landscape. The black stone softened under his touch, forming a shallow basin lined with layers of protective spiritual barriers. These barriers would shield the garden from external forces while allowing it to draw nourishment from the ambient cosmic energy permeating the Inner Universe.

Satisfied with the foundation, Liang held up the orb and released it into the air above the basin. As it hovered, he channeled another surge of spiritual energy into the orb, unraveling its compression seals. Slowly, the orb expanded, unfolding layer by layer until the secret garden reemerged in all its glory.

The crystalline pool appeared first, its golden waters cascading gently into the basin below. Around it, lush grasses sprouted, spreading outward in vibrant waves. Trees grew rapidly, their branches reaching skyward as if drinking in the light of distant stars. Flowers bloomed in bursts of color, filling the air with fragrances both familiar and otherworldly. At the center of it all stood the Nine Revolutions Era Orchid, suspended majestically above the pool, its nine petals glowing faintly.

As the last remnants of the orb dissolved, Liang stepped back, admiring his work. The garden now existed as a self-contained ecosystem within his Inner Universe, drawing sustenance not only from the surrounding starsbut also from the spiritual reservoirs of the Inner universe.

But Liang wasn't done yet. With deliberate movements, he began reinforcing the garden's boundaries, embedding additional runic arrays into the surrounding landscape. These arrays served multiple purposes: some enhanced the flow of spiritual energy into the garden, ensuring it remained vibrant and healthy; others acted as defensive mechanisms, ready to repel any intrusions should someone ever breach his Universe. Though such an event was unlikely given his current situation, caution dictated preparation.

Once the arrays were complete, Liang turned his attention to the orchid itself. Approaching the crystalline pool, he knelt beside it, gazing at the delicate petals floating above. Each petal represented a stage of growth, each more profound than the last. Only eight were fully formed—the ninth remained nascent, a mere bud waiting to unfurl over millennia.

"Two thousand years, Time may be patient, but I am not. Let us see how much we can accelerate your awakening."