Ascension of The Unholy Immortal

Reaching into the void, Liang withdrew an ornate jade case. Nestled within it was a delicate vial.

As he gazed at it, irony washed over him. He had acquired this very jade case from the poor old man whose memories later revealed crucial information about the orchid. In fact, this seemingly innocuous artifact was indirectly responsible for the old man's untimely demise.

Inside the vial lay a single drop of golden blood—just looking at it was enough to make one's heart tremble. In the past, Liang had set it aside, unable to identify its origin or significance. But after assimilating the memories of the dwarf ancestor, everything became clear.

Strangely, this unassuming drop of blood was millions of years old.

It belonged to the Frostfall Ancient God—the same being slaughtered by Dong Jue in ages past and the very source of the Nine Revolution Era Orchid.

Was it mere coincidence? Had the old man known what he risked his life to obtain?

Liang couldn't be certain. He hadn't inherited all of the old man's memories—only fragments—but even so, the strange alignment of events gnawed at him. Was it fate, or something more?

Carefully, Liang tilted the vial, allowing the single drop of golden blood to fall, time seemed to slow. The droplet hung suspended in the air for an instant, It was as if the essence of something ancient and immeasurably powerful had been contained within this minuscule form, now unleashed into his Universe.

As the drop touched the surface of the crystalline pool—formed from the hundred-thousand-year-old spirit milk—a ripple spread outward, not just across the water but through the very fabric of the surrounding space. The pool reacted violently at first, its once-calm surface erupting into swirling eddies of silver and gold. The spirit milk frothed and churned, glowing brighter with each passing second until it became almost blinding. Yet, amid the chaos, there was a strange harmony, as though the two substances were completing each other.

The golden blood sank slowly into the depths of the pool, leaving behind trails of radiant filaments that branched out like veins of liquid sunlight. These filaments intertwined with the spirit milk, transforming it entirely. Its original silvery hue deepened into a luminous platinum shade, shot through with streaks of molten gold. Tiny motes of energy began to rise from the surface, floating upward like fireflies before dissolving into the air, infusing the entire garden with an aura of vitality stronger than anything Liang had ever felt.

The transformation wasn't merely visual; the spirit milk itself had undergone a fundamental change. What had once been a potent yet passive source of nourishment was now alive with energy, humming softly as if imbued with consciousness.

Liang could feel the shift even from where he standing.

The reaction of the orchid was immediate and breathtaking. The moment the transformed spirit milk made contact with its roots, which stretched invisibly beneath the surface of the pool, the entire plant shuddered as though waking from a long slumber. The eight fully formed petals began to glow more intensely, their radiance shifting from soft white to a spectrum of colors that danced and shifted unpredictably. But it was the ninth petal—the nascent bud—that underwent the most dramatic transformation.

The tiny bud trembled, then swelled rapidly, doubling in size within seconds. A crackling sound filled the air as the outer layers of the bud split open, revealing glimpses of what lay inside: a core of pure golden light pulsating with life. Fragments of the shell fell away, dissolving into motes of energy that were absorbed by the rest of the orchid. Within moments, the ninth petal unfurled completely, joining its siblings in full bloom.

But it didn't stop there. The newly emerged petal began to evolve further, developing intricate patterns along its surface—patterns that mirrored constellations visible in the night sky of the Universe. As these patterns solidified, they emitted faint beams of light that connected the orchid to distant stars, as if anchoring to Liang's universe.

The moment the ninth petal unfurled and connected to the stars, an unsettling stillness enveloped the garden. The vibrant energy that had filled the air seemed to freeze in place, as though reality itself hesitated to proceed. Then, without warning, threads of light began emanating from each of the orchid's petals, converging at its glowing core. The golden light intensified, pulsing like a heartbeat, growing brighter with every throb until it became almost unbearable for Liang to look directly at it.

Liang's expression shifted in an instant, his initial shock giving way to steely resolve. This was not part of the plan—this was far beyond anything he had anticipated. With a swift motion, he raised his hand, and the universe seemed to shudder in response. Vast torrents of qi surged toward him from every direction, coalescing into the shape of a colossal, translucent hand that crackled with raw energy.

Without hesitation, Liang clenched his fingers into a tight grip, as if seizing something intangible yet vital. The golden light emanating from the orchid flickered wildly, resisting his attempt to control it. But Liang pressed on, channeling all his strength into the effort.

Suddenly, the overwhelming presence emerged—a force so ancient and immense that it sent shivers coursing down Liang's spine. His knees buckled involuntarily under the weight of this unearthly power. He could feel his very essence being scrutinized, dissected, and judged by something far beyond comprehension. It was not malevolent, but neither was it kind—it simply was, vast and eternal.

As the light reached its zenith, a figure materialized within the radiance. At first, it was indistinct, a shimmering silhouette flickering between existence and nonexistence. But then it solidified into the form of a translucent humanoid standing amidst the orchid's luminous glow. Its features were sharp yet ethereal, its skin shimmering faintly with an otherworldly sheen. And its eyes—cold, piercing blue—seemed to hold galaxies within them, swirling endlessly as if containing the mysteries of creation itself.

For a moment, the figure simply stood there, gazing around the garden with an expression of confusion etched onto its face. Its gaze lingered on Liang, who felt as though he were drowning in those icy depths. Then, slowly, realization dawned upon the figure's countenance. A grin spread across its lips, subtle at first but quickly escalating into a wide, manic smile.

"Finally, After all these years… I am back."