Rebirth: Dominator of the Multiverse

Chapter 4

Flood Dragon Emerges into the Sea

"Desperate measures it is!"

A glint of unyielding resolve flickered in Fan Xueli's eyes. In this moment, his hands formed a peculiar seal, as if the stars of heaven and earth were woven into it, even with ten thousand flames dancing within.

Using his own body as the furnace and the stars of heaven and earth as the catalyst, this seal was the Ten Thousand Flames Seal, revered as a sacred mark among alchemists!

Fan Xueli's current realm was merely the second level of the Fleshly Body Realm, and unleashing this Ten Thousand Flames Seal would bring with it a fierce backlash. Yet he pressed on regardless.

It was a contest of sheer will.

Time slipped away unnoticed.

Twilight crept in gradually.

Fan Xueli held firm like this, forcing himself to endure, feeling his meridians teeter on the brink of collapse, his very consciousness blurring at the edges.

Anyone else would have long since yielded.

But Fan Xueli fought on, never once slackening.

In time, he suddenly noticed a faint loosening in the Dragon's Saliva Wine before him.

Elation surged through him. Seizing the moment, he poured everything into it—every ounce of power surging forth in a relentless assault, seeping into the Dragon's Saliva Wine.

In an instant, the seal binding the Dragon's Saliva Wine shattered at last. It dissolved into a sweet nectar, which he swallowed down.

With each breath, the air was thick with fragrance.

In that fleeting second, Fan Xueli felt his fleshly body undergo a profound rebirth, as if he were soaking in the gentlest of warm waters, a comfort he had never known.

All his meridians reformed entirely, now extraordinarily resilient—twice as strong as before.

Then, with a single palm strike, a peculiar cracking echoed from his joints. Five or six meters ahead, the green bricks on the ground split cleanly in two.

"The third level of the Fleshly Body Realm—Bone Tempering Stage, fully achieved!"

Joy welled up in Fan Xueli. After so long cultivating, he had finally stepped into the third realm of the Fleshly Body, the Bone Tempering Stage.

He drew a deep breath, his gaze sharpening toward the distance, where the Grand Steward's estate lay.

Tomorrow was the Ritual Refinement Assembly, and if he hoped to claim a ranking there, he needed to wrest back his Tianwu Sword from the Grand Steward's grasp.

Grand Steward, when you so cruelly bullied my mother and brazenly seized the Tianwu Sword, you should have known that blood would be the price!

A true man harbors fury and unleashes it in one thunderous blow—like a flood dragon surging from the sea, shattering all that stands in its path!

The raw materials birthed by heaven and earth are meant to mend one's fate; to clutch at fleeting power and bow to destiny's whims—why then did heaven bother to birth me at all?

With that, his body lifted into the air, streaking toward the Grand Steward's estate with the speed of lightning.

Dusk had fallen. The sprawling estate was ringed by countless servants clad in full iron armor, their auras thick with killing intent. What was strange, though, was that every one of these servants had been rendered mute by human hands.

Deliberately made into mutes, their eyes carried an added chill of malice.

In the grand hall of the estate, the Grand Steward Lu Xi toyed with seven turtle shells, arranging them into the shape of the Seven Stars. At their center, a little snow-white fox lay bound, its eyes darting about in a plea for mercy.

It possessed a spark of spiritual awareness; though it could not speak, it conveyed joy, anger, sorrow, and delight all too clearly.

Lu Xi drew a dagger and scraped it lightly across his palm, letting out a cold, mocking chuckle as he addressed the little fox: "You bear the rare Nine Spirits bloodline. Once I extract your heart's blood and channel it through the Divination Grand Array, I'll refine the Nine Spirits Pill. My cultivation will soar on the tide—by then, not even your master could save you!"

At these words, the little fox trembled in terror, straining to break free. But the power converged in those seven turtle shells held it fast; it could not even twitch.

Helplessness, panic, despair—these slowly flooded the little fox's heart.

Just as Lu Xi advanced on the little fox with dagger in hand, a servant burst into the hall in haste. He dropped to his knees before Lu Xi, gesturing wildly with hands and feet, as if reporting some urgent matter.

"Hm? The Seventh Young Master Fan Xueli comes calling?" A venomous gleam entered Lu Xi's eyes. "You had the road to heaven but wouldn't take it; you stormed the gates of hell uninvited. I failed to finish you yesterday—well, today this place becomes your grave! Bring him in."

He sprawled brazenly in the rosewood chair at the hall's head, paying no mind to the little fox trapped in the array. In his eyes, Fan Xueli was already a corpse; what did it matter if the boy glimpsed this secret?

Fan Xueli followed the mute servant into the estate. In that instant, he sensed a sinister chill permeating the air—a pall of death, as if countless resentful souls lingered within these walls.

As an alchemist grandmaster, he knew well: this was the deathly aura born of the brutally slain, their souls denied passage to the beyond, forever ensnared here.

Fan Xueli soon reached the hall and laid eyes on the man at its center: Lu Xi, his face bloated and puffy, his presence steeped in baleful qi.

The fellow appeared aged and frail, his inner energy woefully depleted. Clearly, he had botched his cultivation—resorting instead to slaughtering the living, siphoning the essence from their remnant souls to prolong his wretched life.

Such methods were utterly vile.

At that moment, Lu Xi curled his lips in a sinister grin. "The Seventh Young Master graces us with a visit—what brings you here?"

He had already probed and found no one shadowing Fan Xueli. The boy had come alone, just as he had hoped.

Fan Xueli replied coolly, "Hand over the Tianwu Sword. Then I'll escort you back to my estate to beg forgiveness from my mother."

His nature was decisive, charging forward with valor, yet he was no bloodthirsty killer. If an enemy showed true remorse, he would still spare a path to life.

Lu Xi threw his head back in raucous laughter, fixing Fan Xueli with an incredulous stare. "Young Master Fan the Seventh, have you lost your wits? Daring to strut into my domain and play the big man? Fine, then—before you die, I'll at least let you go as an enlightened ghost."

Knowing Fan Xueli stood alone, he cast aside all restraint. The boy's doom was sealed.

With a clap of his hands, over a dozen armored servants blocked off Fan Xueli's retreat. Among them loomed a guard from the Ritual Temple—the very one who had struck Fan Xueli unconscious the day before. Without his rebirth, Fan Xueli would surely have met his end then.

Fan Xueli's pupils contracted sharply. He demanded of Lu Xi, "Whose orders are you following to see me dead?"

A thread of killing intent stirred in his heart.

"Whoever I want dead, dies." Lu Xi's face twisted in arrogant glee. He formed a hand seal, and the hall's curtains parted of their own accord. Beyond, in the courtyard, pear trees bore grisly fruit: several fresh corpses, hacked into three or four segments, blood still dripping steadily—clearly slain mere hours ago.

Nearby stood massive wine vats, brimming with pickled heads, their eyes frozen in furious accusation, injustices unavenged.

At this sight, Fan Xueli's expression turned to ice. He had never imagined the man valued lives so cheaply—depraved to such depths!

He had harbored a shred of mercy before, but for a creature like this, what point was there in letting it breathe?

Lu Xi followed with a guttural snicker. "As for that Tianwu Sword, it's already been delivered to the Third Young Master, awaiting its moment to shine at tomorrow's Ritual Refinement Assembly. If you want it back, go fetch it from the King of Hell!"

In that instant, his body erupted in radiant light, his exhalation booming like thunder. Dark clouds enshrouded him entirely, swarming with countless wailing specters—most of them, shockingly, former servants of the Fan Clan.

A gust of eerie wind swept through, elongating and warping his shadow into something grotesque.

This was the Divination Array in action, a trap to bind the foe utterly, seizing heart and soul, rendering them immobile. The little fox, for all its Nine Spirits bloodline, had been ensnared by just such an array.

The hall's servants gaped in wide-eyed terror, while the little fox's gaze dimmed with hopelessness.

They could all but see it: Fan Xueli ensnared, his mind shattered, reduced to a puppet of despair.

Yet in this very instant, against all expectation, Fan Xueli met the peril without flinching. His hands moved in a fluid motion, forming a seal.

As the seal turned, the ghosts swirled around him, yet none could draw within three zhang of his person.

This was one of the alchemist grandmaster's seals, used in pill refinement to purge malign influences—for many elixirs harbored vast reservoirs of baleful qi, tamed only by such a mark.

Of course, Lu Xi's narrow vision could never recognize it.

"What seal is that?" Greed flashed in Lu Xi's eyes; he could tell at a glance it was no ordinary thing. So the boy had come alone with some hidden card up his sleeve.

But Fan Xueli was only at the second level of the Fleshly Body Realm. What use was any trump against that?

Lu Xi sneered. "Tell me the seal, and I'll spare your mother's soul. Otherwise..."

At these words, Fan Xueli's inner world detonated like a sun in cataclysm, his voice icing over. "You've laid hands on my mother?"

No wonder her aura had stabilized, yet she remained unconscious.

His mother was his reverse scale!

Fan Xueli was truly enraged!

"Indeed. Her soul is purity incarnate. I've already claimed one fragment of it—now she lies in endless slumber. In time, that soul will serve as the linchpin of my array, commanding the horde of malevolent ghosts!" Lu Xi's voice dripped with venomous triumph. He meant to shatter Fan Xueli's spirit with these barbs, to leave him open and dazed.

The moment of another's rage and despair was ever the perfect c***k in the armor.

In that instant, Fan Xueli's eyes blazed with searing light, his heart aflame with a pillar of unenlightened karmic fire soaring to the heavens. He lunged forward, every fiber of his being unleashed in a frenzied roar.

"Come on, then!" Lu Xi cackled coldly, his form erupting in ebony radiance, bones gleaming black as he countered with a palm strike.

As his palm lashed out, the grinding of displaced joints rang out—a force that could cripple even a fierce tiger!

This was no mere Bone Tempering; it was mastery achieved.

It was his ace, and Fan Xueli was but at the second level, Membrane Tempering. This blow would cave in the boy's chest, ripping his soul straight from the heart!

Mockery and disdain filled Lu Xi's gaze. Even a scion of the Fan Clan was but meat on the block in his domain.

In this moment, the encircling servants sneered at Fan Xueli. At his realm, even two or three more years of training wouldn't save him from such a strike. This exalted Seventh Young Master of the Fan Clan would soon be writhing in death throes, begging piteously for his life.

### Chapter 5: Ten Thousand Flames Seal

Yet in that instant, Lu Xi realized with horror that his strike—meant to be unerring—had been blocked by Fan Xueli!

Not merely blocked; a ferocious, chaotic aura erupted from Fan Xueli, piercing the heavens like a roaring dragon, shoving aside Lu Xi's palms and slamming into his chest with a thunderous roar!

The servants all stood dumbfounded. How could this be?

"Urk!" Lu Xi reeled from the blow, spewing several mouthfuls of blood as he stared at Fan Xueli in utter disbelief.

Impossible. The boy had somehow reached the pinnacle of the third level of the Fleshly Body Realm—Bone Tempering at its zenith—and his vital energy burned even fiercer and more potent than his own?

To conceal such depths! He had never suspected it!

A single strike, and he was already gravely wounded!

It seemed he would have to play his hidden card.

Malice lurked in Lu Xi's eyes, though he schooled his face into feigned terror. "Seventh Young Master, I yield! I'll return your mother's soul in exchange for mercy!"

Once a soul was extracted and fused into an array, it was shattered beyond recall, forever barred from resurrection. But he wagered such words would make Fan Xueli hesitate—and that pause would be his opening!

No sooner had he spoken than Lu Xi bit through his lip, spraying a gush of blood onto the turtle shells before him. In response, countless resentful souls coalesced into tangible forms, bursting forth in a frenzy of claws and fangs, blanketing the hall in a writhing mass.

Fan Xueli was their target, but so too were the servants themselves.

This was the Blood Ghost Technique: bathing malevolent ghosts in one's own blood to grant them fleeting solidity, enough to endure even beneath the midday sun. Lu Xi had once felled a fourth-level Fleshly Body martial artist with it, so he was certain this onslaught would tear Fan Xueli limb from limb!

The servants, seized by doubt and dread, paled at the sight. They had never witnessed ghosts taking physical form—and these specters showed no regard for friend or foe, charging them as well.

In a blink of stunned inaction, the servants were set upon and shredded to fragments.

Blood sprayed across the floor.

The temple guard who had ambushed Fan Xueli earlier crumpled in terror, collapsing to the ground—only to be rent into four or five pieces moments later, flesh and bone scattered.

A sinister smile curled Lu Xi's lips. This surprise assault had seized the advantage; the tide had turned, and Fan Xueli's death was assured!

But he noted, even as the servants fell, that Fan Xueli remained untouched by the horde, as if gathering his strength.

"Death at your doorstep, and still you posture?" Lu Xi pinched a hand seal, channeling every drop of his blood essence to drive the ghosts into a tighter noose around Fan Xueli.

Under this barrage, that mortal frame of flesh and blood could not hope to survive.

"With your paltry Blood Ghost Technique?" Fan Xueli's gaze hardened with lethal intent. He drew a deep breath, steadying his qi, then unleashed a palm strike that rent the firmament. Between heaven and earth, it traced a perfect circle before sweeping outward!

As if sun and moon wheeled in his palm, birthing ten thousand flames!

The Ten Thousand Flames Seal!

This seal was devilishly hard to master: it summoned endless fire to purge all evils, reigning as the foremost among an alchemist grandmaster's arsenal. It served not only in forging elixirs but, in battle, unleashed devastating might.

Its greatest power lay in wielding thunder's wrath to shatter every demon and ghost!

One seal struck, and myriad ghosts perished!

This very technique was the cornerstone of Fan Xueli's confidence. Upon breaking through to the third realm of the Fleshly Body, he could now channel half its potency.

Of course, the backlash from such a seal was immense; even one casting would leave him depleted for days, his essence and spirit in tatters.

Fan Xueli's strike not only cleaved through the spectral throng, scattering them to wisps of smoke, but pressed onward relentlessly, crashing into Lu Xi's chest!

Lu Xi offered no resistance; the blow landed raw and true, carving a ragged gash across his torso, his heart reduced to pulp.

"Good heavens, what seal is this—so horrifying!" In his final, labored breath, Lu Xi gasped out in shock: "Your mother's soul is still in my grasp—how dare you kill me?"

Then he toppled like a felled tree, eyes wide in death's unblinking stare.

Gazing upon Lu Xi's corpse, a chill flickered in Fan Xueli's eyes. He had seen through the man's crude soul-extraction from the start: that fragment of his mother's soul had been brutishly incinerated long ago, beyond any hope of reclamation. To spare him would invite endless reprisals.

As an alchemist grandmaster, he knew rites to rebirth a soul.

But they were arduous, demanding several supremely rare herbs.

His gaze drifted northward, toward Taiyin Mountain.

There, eternal frost reigned, blanketing the peaks in unyielding ice and snow. Those who ventured in rarely returned—ten deaths for every life spared. It was a forbidden ground within a hundred li of here.

And those rare herbs flourished only in such frozen wastes.

Fan Xueli wasted no time. Gritting his teeth against exhaustion, he doused the Grand Steward and his slain servants in lamp oil, then set the draperies ablaze.

Destroy the bodies, erase his tracks. To challenge the Great Madam and reclaim the Tianwu Sword, he must tread with utmost caution.

At once, Lu Xi's remains went up in roaring flames, crumbling swiftly to ash. The chamber followed, the blaze spreading into an inferno.

With that, Fan Xueli slipped out the back door, scaled the wall, and vaulted down.

His mother's lost soul drove him onward toward Taiyin Mountain, his steps aflame with urgency.