Chapter 342: The Mystery of Immortality!

To forcibly replace the Heavenly Dao with one’s mortal flesh, and with a single person’s power open up the Three Realms—transforming a cyberpunk world on the verge of collapse into a fully-structured, rule-bound Three Realms version—such divine might and grand design far surpassed anything the concept of a “this world’s only one” could encompass.

Within the void, the projection of the Lord God’s will, composed of pure intent, was becoming increasingly translucent, like a wisp of smoke soon to be scattered by the morning breeze.

He could distinctly feel that the causal link binding this projection of his will to the Divine Space, which bore all the fruits of his Dao, was being severed by an even more fundamental cosmic law.

In truth, in terms of pure power level alone, any “this world’s only one” standing at the pinnacle of endless versions could theoretically achieve what Lu Yan had just done.

To tear apart a broken world and reconstruct its laws with one’s Dao—such a feat was not beyond them.

But the key had never been whether they could do it, but whether they dared to bear the consequences.

A version was never an isolated island suspended in the dark sea.

Behind each one stretched countless unseen threads of karma, connecting to infinite mirrored timelines and probabilistic worlds.

Although the “this world’s only ones” could, through their vast power, step outside the cycle of version updates and to some extent resist the erosion of time, it did not mean they were truly above all restraint.

Most of the time, any drastic changes they made to a version would be corrected or erased by the supreme rules of version updates in the next update tide.

Like a child building a grand castle on the beach—when the cosmic tide rolls in, all will be washed away and returned to its most primal form.

However, once such changes touched upon the very foundation of a version—such as altering the Heavenly Dao or initiating a transformative evolution of the world itself as Lu Yan had done—the consequences would no longer be so simple.

It was tantamount to challenging the law of tides with bare hands, shaking the roots of the sea that gave birth to countless versions.

The backlash from such a feat would not be limited to a single version, but would become a karmic tsunami sweeping through the heavens. Through the invisible net of causality, it would instantly ripple into countless interconnected versions, forming a terrifying flood capable of obliterating even the souls of the “this world’s only ones.”

This was why these beings always acted with extreme caution during version invasions.

They usually followed the flow of a world’s existing trends, borrowing strength rather than confronting it.

For example, spreading true cultivation methods in demon worlds or introducing zombies into apocalyptic versions—these were clever manipulations that aligned with the world’s own evolving Heavenly Dao, subtly embedding their own will rather than outright defying it.

But what Lu Yan had done now ran completely counter to such caution.

He had taken the most domineering and wild path.

He used the unreasonable and eternal attribute of the “Unchanging One” as a foundation and directly made himself the Heavenly Dao of this version.

He did not borrow. He seized. He did not guide. He created.

In an impossibly short span of time, he forcibly evolved a world built on code and psionic energy into a brand-new Three Realms version complete with Heaven, Mortal, and Nether realms—mythic in tone, complete in structure.

While this allowed the new version’s sturdy laws to serve as an impenetrable fortress, rejecting the invading Divine Space of the Lord God, the chain reaction it caused would one day erupt with unimaginable force.

As the “Unchanging One,” Lu Yan was like an absolute coordinate engraved upon the foundation of the cosmos—an eternal singularity.

When he used his own power to push a world into transformative evolution, this earthshaking event would become the strongest of signals. Through this eternal coordinate, it would instantaneously ripple across all versions where he had any karmic ties.

Such a shockwave could shake the very rules of version updates to their core.

Now, as the barriers of the Three Realms version fully stabilized, golden divine radiance formed from the interwoven new laws flowed above. The destructive and devouring Divine Space was thoroughly sealed out.

Although visually, that vast cosmic shadow loomed just a step away from this newborn world, the Lord God knew better than anyone—the gap between them was now a conceptual chasm that could not be crossed.

His final anchor in this world—the will-projection that served as his guiding marker—was being rapidly eroded and weakened by the newly born laws.

He was about to lose all connection to his true self.

The Lord God’s body flickered, fading between light and shadow. That terrifying pressure that once made all realms tremble was receding like a retreating tide.

In contrast, Lu Yan remained seated calmly upon the supreme divine throne, surrounded by countless gods. His form had fully merged with the Three Realms version.

His eyes shone—his left like the sun, his right like the moon. Their light fell upon all living beings, nourishing all things.

His aura was vast and dignified, as though he were the source of all myth, the end of all belief—the King of Kings, the God of All Gods!

And yet, witnessing this divine miracle, the Lord God—on the verge of vanishing—suddenly laughed.

That smile was full of complexity: awe at Lu Yan’s shocking feat, helplessness at his failed schemes…

But more than anything, it carried the icy, cutting sarcasm of someone who had seen through a deeper conspiracy.

“To forge yourself into the ruler of the Celestial Court, then use the authority of this second Heavenly Dao to tamper with another version’s Dao… Heh, a brilliant move indeed.”

“In you, I see the shadow of a very old acquaintance.”

His fading eyes swept up and down Lu Yan with interest—not like an enemy, but like someone admiring a perfect offering to some ancient god.

“The one who guided you onto this path of the Celestial Court… must’ve been the Immortal Lord of Longevity, no?”

Lu Yan, seated atop the divine throne and fused with the Three Realms, showed no emotion. His moon-and-sun eyes remained calm, like ancient glaciers.

He simply stared at the Lord God, as if watching a fading, insignificant mirage.

The Lord God didn’t mind his silence. He casually raised a translucent hand and spoke lightly, as if chatting with an old friend.

“Let me guess. During the last great collapse version that linked multiple versions, I briefly sensed the Immortal Lord of Longevity making a move.”

“By chance, you thwarted an important scheme of his, leaving him unable to act against you for a while.”

“So to prevent this most delectable ‘cake’ in the universe from falling into my hands, he extended goodwill to you, vividly painting the ‘Lord God threat,’ and ‘kindly’ showing you a path of rapid growth—one capable of standing against existences like me in a short time.”

“That path: to forge your own Celestial Court.”

Lu Yan’s vast Dao heart, now one with the world, remained unshaken—but deep within, an unprecedented sense of vigilance and chill surged forth.

Because every word the Lord God spoke… was absolutely correct!

This had been a secret deal made between Lu Yan and a mere projection of the Immortal Lord of Longevity in the sealed Collapse version—unknown even to the Immortal Lord’s true self.

And no matter how far-reaching the Lord God’s authority was, there was no way he should’ve known such detail, such precision!

As if sensing the ripple beneath Lu Yan’s impassive exterior, the Lord God’s smile deepened, his sarcasm growing more evident.

“Actually, he wasn’t wrong.”

“The Celestial Court, wielding the power of the second Heavenly Dao, is indeed the best and fastest way to resist us ‘this world’s only ones.’”

“Your actions in the cyberpunk version prove it. In fact, you did far better than he anticipated.”

“But…” The Lord God’s tone suddenly shifted, a trace of amusement and pity entering his voice. “There’s one thing—one crucial thing—he didn’t tell you.”

He paused. His almost-vanished figure leaned forward slightly, as if about to share the universe’s greatest secret.

“He, the Immortal Lord of Longevity, is publicly known as the ‘this world’s only one’ of the Longevity version.”

“But in truth, among the endless versions, he bears a far older, more exalted title—”

“The Southern Immortal Emperor of Longevity, Lord of the Four Celestial Sovereigns!”

The Four Celestial Sovereigns?

Those four words struck Lu Yan’s heart like a creation thunderbolt, finally shattering his otherwise calm inner sea.

“That’s right,” the Lord God said, pleased by Lu Yan’s brief hesitation.

“In an age so distant it can’t be traced, he and three equally ancient and powerful ‘this world’s only ones’ founded the original Four Celestial Sovereigns’ Court.”

“All of the ‘Celestial Court’ concepts throughout the multiverse… originated with them.”

His gaze grew unfathomably deep, revealing truths buried for countless eons.

“You created your God Court and Netherworld by gathering every fragment of the ‘Netherworld’ concept across all versions, right?”

“But have you ever wondered—if ‘Netherworld’ was so widespread, why had no true Netherworld God Court ever appeared before yours?”

“The reason is simple.” The Lord God’s voice took on a cruel smile that pierced to Lu Yan’s very soul.

“Because the so-called Netherworld… has always just been a subordinate branch beneath the supreme Celestial Court!”

“The vast ‘Netherworld’ concept you collected was nothing more than a bait… left by the Four Sovereigns across the versions!”

“A bait to lure the most talented monsters with potential to build a Celestial Court!”

“And you…” His voice rose sharply, eyes blazing, branding the final truth into Lu Yan’s soul.

“You, a once-in-an-eternity Unchanging One—”

“From the moment you stepped on this path, you were already the perfect bait the Immortal Lord of Longevity had waited eons for!”

“This massive change in the cyberpunk version—especially driven by you—will send shockwaves like never before!”

“It will shake the foundations of the version update system and, in the next update cycle, bring chaos like the world has never seen!”

“Countless ‘this world’s only ones’ bound for eternity will see hope for temporary release, and the karmic threads of every version you’ve touched will fully emerge.”

“And that scheming Immortal Lord of Longevity will seize this once-in-a-million chance—”

“To personally harvest his ripest fruit!”

As the Lord God finished, his body had faded to near invisibility.

He paid no mind to Lu Yan’s expression—his purpose had already been fulfilled.

Everything he said was true. His aim was to instill suspicion in Lu Yan so the Immortal Lord wouldn’t reap his harvest so easily.

As for the rest, it no longer mattered.

As the version’s framework was fully rebuilt, his body began to disperse into countless dazzling motes of light.

Just before vanishing completely, he gave Lu Yan one final deep look. In those illusionary eyes burned a never-before-seen anticipation.

“This is the final battle—an ultimate feast over the fate of the Unchanging One.”

“Perhaps… the only chance in all of existence for one to ascend to ‘that world’s only one.’”

“No one will refuse to join.”

“And I shall return—this time, with the Divine Space itself, and with my true body!”

(End of Chapter)