Chapter 242 – Forge the Divine Court

For a hundred miles in every direction, the land remained desolate and still. Lu Yan’s words stirred no reaction, as if this entire realm had never contained something like the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao to begin with.

Lu Yan wasn’t surprised. He continued speaking on his own:

“I destroyed the Mech Version Fragment because I was at the edge of life and death. I had no choice but to do so for my own survival. But I hold no deep grudge against the other version factions—rashly destroying their version fragments would only bring me needless trouble.

If you choose not to respond, then the brief revival following the Mech Version Fragment’s collapse will be the only opportunity you ever get.”

At this, a hidden smile tugged at the corners of Lu Yan’s lips.

“You may think you can rely on the mech people, who have now become natives, but you must understand: without the protection of their version fragment, even their logistics bases are gone.

There are many who covet the Mech City’s legacy. With only a few satellite-class war fortresses and a single Prophet Mech, how long do you think you can survive in this hostile Great Collapse Domain?”

As Lu Yan mentioned the mech people—who had lost their anchor and become native to the Great Collapse Version—the world finally began to stir.

The heavens trembled. A low, ancient rumble echoed through the void like distant thunder. It was as if an invisible hand had snuffed out all the light in this world, plunging everything into a doomsday-like darkness.

Then, countless strands of ghostly blue rule-lines appeared out of the void, weaving through the air like threads of fate, forming the very fabric of this world’s laws.

They converged gradually, manifesting into a majestic and mysterious visage—an image far beyond mortal comprehension. Its eyes seemed to hold sun and moon, its breath became wind, its voice thunder, and all creation was but its manifestation.

This vast face formed by the rules exuded an unspeakable pressure—the will of the Heavenly Dao itself. The void distorted and trembled under its might, as if on the verge of shattering. The pressure bore down on Lu Yan, trying to subdue and crush him into submission beneath the laws of the Heavenly Dao.

Yet, facing this awe-inspiring force that could make all beings kneel, Lu Yan showed no fear in his eyes.

He had dealt with many Heavenly Daos before—even one as powerful as the Immortal Dao had to obey cosmic order and couldn’t strike him directly.

The Great Collapse Heavenly Dao before him had only just been born and was still gravely incomplete. Even with the power of the Great Collapse Version at its disposal, it could not truly harm Lu Yan.

The terrifying spectacle before him—the pressure meant to force him into submission—only further revealed how hollow the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao truly was.

Lu Yan’s eyes were like deep pools, his gaze sharp and penetrating. He saw through the terrifying scene before him to its core.

With a single thought, Lu Yan awakened the Supreme Divine Seed atop his tenth-layer Dao Foundation.

The Chaos Great Sun, condensed from myriad Daos, transformed into a formless black hole, devouring all the pressure descending from the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao.

Even the rule-lines descending from the sky were drawn in, gradually transforming into Dao patterns upon the surface of the Chaos Great Sun.

As the Supreme Divine Seed devoured the lines of rule, the face of the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao above the heavens showed unmistakable fury.

The Heavenly Dao’s power poured down, as if shattering the last barrier holding the world together.

The skies roared with tumult, lightning danced like serpents, and thunder rolled like dragons through black clouds. The earth quaked, mountains trembled—as if the entire world was shuddering in response.

And yet, even such a terrifying display could not make Lu Yan waver. The Supreme Divine Seed continued devouring the lines of rule, its Dao patterns growing ever more distinct.

Just as Lu Yan had expected—this destructive display of the Heavenly Dao’s might was only a bluff, a false front to coerce submission. The Great Collapse Heavenly Dao could not truly act against him.

In the heavens, the furious expression on the rule-woven visage began to fade. Its eyes of sun and moon dimmed, and cracks began to appear across its massive form like dry riverbeds.

With a final, echoing shatter, the entire world fell silent. The clouds cleared, thunder vanished, and peace returned.

The vast face formed from rules crumbled completely, dissipating into countless points of light across the sky.

Before Lu Yan, a new string of words popped up on the version update interface:

[What… trade?]

Upon seeing this, Lu Yan—though maintaining a calm appearance—finally exhaled in relief deep down.

In truth, when he proposed a transaction with the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao, Lu Yan had put on a show of confidence, but he was far from certain.

Of all the versions he had experienced, only the urban version’s mundane Heavenly Dao lacked supernatural rules. All the others stood aloof in high dominion.

Even the apocalyptic version’s Dao only aided Lu Yan after he’d slaughtered countless zombies.

Between Heavenly Daos and mortal beings, there remained an unbridgeable gulf.

Moreover, Heavenly Daos didn’t possess strict sentience. They merely upheld the operation of the world, always acting by order and law.

Had this been any other version’s Heavenly Dao, Lu Yan would never have dared approach it this way.

But the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao was completely different—it had too little control over its own realm, even less than the Apocalyptic Dao.

And despite just being born, it had already tried to manipulate the version update interface to command Lu Yan into destroying other version fragments—displaying reasoning and intent unlike any other Heavenly Dao.

Lu Yan was the only hope to break the deadlock in this version in tens of thousands of years, and the Heavenly Dao couldn’t harm him. That was the leverage he needed to propose this deal.

Since the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao had responded, the rest would naturally follow.

But before finalizing the transaction, Lu Yan had several questions he wanted answered.

He asked solemnly, “How are you able to interfere with the version update interface?”

The interface fell silent for several long minutes. Eventually, fragmented text appeared:

[You… in Mech Fragment… opened… detected loophole…]

Lu Yan’s eyes narrowed. Though the message was disjointed, he pieced together the meaning.

The Heavenly Dao had managed to interfere with the version update interface because Lu Yan activated it within the Mech Version Fragment, allowing the Great Collapse Version to detect a loophole.

Lu Yan immediately thought back to the Demon Version—when he first saw the message from Eternal Heaven Venerable. That had also occurred just as he triggered the update interface.

“If I hadn’t triggered the version update, would you still have been able to detect the loophole and interfere?”

[No.]

That simple reply made Lu Yan raise an eyebrow.

He now realized the key lay in that moment of frozen time when activating the version update.

Against low-tier beings—like the nether god of Abyss—Lu Yan could use the temporal freeze to stall for time.

But against high-tier existences like Heavenly Daos or “this world’s only ones,” that freeze made it easier for them to detect the interface.

This discovery made Lu Yan more cautious. While he couldn’t change this for now, he would be more careful in future versions.

He moved on to his second question.

“Is the task you posted through the interface—to gain a new permission—real?”

This time, the Heavenly Dao replied quickly:

[Real.]

Lu Yan was overjoyed, but still pressed, “Why should I believe you?”

[Though interfering with the display, order cannot lie. All is… true.]

The interface was bound by its own order—external forces could interfere, but they still had to obey the truth of the rules.

That meant the task and its 10% progress were indeed genuine.

So long as he completed it, Lu Yan would gain a new permission.

Delighted, Lu Yan continued.

With his cultivation rising and more versions encountered, he drew ever closer to stepping into the domains of beings like the “this world’s only ones.”

Not all of them would treat him as kindly as Jiang Zhiwei. If another Eternal Heaven Venerable appeared with designs on his “unchanging trait,” he could face unprecedented peril.

This wasn’t something brute force alone could overcome—no matter how fast he grew, he couldn’t yet contend with “this world’s only ones.”

But a new permission from the interface might just give him a chance.

He asked his fourth question:

“Is the permission truly from you? Or was it something the interface was always meant to give me?”

The interface paused again.

Eventually, two words appeared:

[Trade!]

Clearly, the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao was growing impatient.

Either Lu Yan’s questions had touched a sore point, or interfering with the interface came at some cost—and it no longer wanted to waste energy answering.

Having gotten what he wanted, Lu Yan didn’t push further.

“This trade is simple. I’ll destroy ten version fragments for you—but what can you offer me?

Don’t try to fob me off with the permission reward. At most, you only accelerated its appearance through interference. That’s not a fair trade.”

The Great Collapse Heavenly Dao was silent. Only after a long time did it respond:

[Provide… rules… to complete… your divine power.]

Lu Yan’s heart stirred.

That was indeed tempting. The Supreme Divine Seed required an astronomical amount of rule resources. Even after plundering the Mech City, he’d only filled a small portion of what was needed.

To fully incubate it would demand far more.

But for the Heavenly Dao of the entire Great Collapse Version—rich in rules hard to find elsewhere—it would be nothing.

If it could complete the Divine Seed, it would be a highly worthwhile trade.

Still, Lu Yan wasn’t satisfied.

“Not enough.”

He shook his head and said seriously:

“If I destroy ten version fragments, I’ll gain countless rules from those factions. I might finish the Divine Seed by then anyway.

Your offer doesn’t cut it.”

The Great Collapse Heavenly Dao seemed surprised by his rejection.

After another long silence, it responded:

[Also help… you ascend… to Dao Gold Core.]

Lu Yan’s gaze flickered.

In alchemy, Nine Grades formed the foundation, with First Grade supreme. Above that was the fabled Heaven Grade.

This so-called “Dao Gold Core” likely surpassed even Heaven Grade.

But Lu Yan still shook his head.

“I’ve already laid my Supreme Dao Foundation. Once the Divine Seed is complete, achieving the Dao Gold Core will be simple.

This is just dressing up what I’d do anyway.”

Lu Yan’s second rejection clearly displeased the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao.

[You set terms… but how… guarantee destruction… of the fragments?]

“Each version fragment is backed by a powerful faction. Of course I can’t guarantee success.

All I can do is try my best.

After all, I’m your only choice. This is your only chance.”

The Great Collapse Heavenly Dao hesitated.

The trade hit a deadlock.

Lu Yan took out the Human Emperor Banner and released the Heavenly Dao Merit sealed within.

At once, the blazing light of merit shone across the sky, illuminating the dark heavens.

Lu Yan held the banner high and declared:

“You, as the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao, should know how much Heavenly Dao Merit is stored in this artifact—and that this cycle of merit has already broken through the limits of the rules.

In the Apocalyptic Version, I aided the Apocalyptic Dao. This very artifact was forged with its aid.

I can’t make you any promises. All I can offer is that I will help you destroy version fragments just as I helped the Apocalyptic Dao—so you can regain control of the Great Collapse Version.”

From the heavens, a pair of illusory eyes gazed down, fixated on the Human Emperor Banner in Lu Yan’s hand.

The Great Collapse Heavenly Dao should have doubted—but the artifact was undeniably real. As another Dao, it could feel the blessing granted by its kind.

For a weak version Heavenly Dao to forge such an artifact must have cost it dearly. That alone spoke volumes.

At last, after a long silence, the Great Collapse Heavenly Dao responded:

[I shall help you… Forge the Divine Court!]

(End of Chapter)