The chamber fell silent, save for the gentle, rhythmic pulse of the Heart of Creation floating serenely above the dais.

Dust motes, the final remnants of four Heavenly Talents, drifted lazily in the ambient light.

The Dragon Prince stood amidst the echoes of annihilation, his azure aura subtly enhanced by the faint, absorbed energies of crimson, gold, emerald, and abyss.

His gaze lifted, fixing solely on the prize.

The Heart of Creation.

It pulsed. A symphony of cosmic potential. The very essence of a nascent universe, condensed into a single, irresistible jewel.

‘Finally,’ the Dragon Prince thought, a sliver of ancient longing surfacing. ‘The core.’

He could feel its power calling to him now, resonating with the stolen Providence swirling within his clone vessel.

Before, it had been untouchable. A foreign object, protected by the intrinsic laws of this Chaos cosmos. Its energy actively repelled his presence, the presence of an outsider, a fragment of a will from beyond its borders.

‘Like a body rejecting a foreign organ,’ he mused. ‘This Chaos, weak as its Heavenly Dao is, still possessed a fundamental immune system.’

He had sensed it the moment he arrived in this Secret Realm eons ago, placing this clone here to slumber and gather ambient power. The Heart was the ultimate prize, but it was guarded.

‘I could have tried to force it,’ his thoughts continued, cold and analytical. ‘Shattered its defenses through sheer might of my bloodline as the Chaotic Azure Dragon God. But the backlash…’

He visualized the outcome: the Heart cracking, destabilizing, its boundless creative energy erupting uncontrollably, dissipating across the void before reforming elsewhere, countless ages later. A pointless waste. An unacceptable delay.

‘But now…’

He raised a hand, palm facing the pulsing Heart.

He channeled the energies absorbed from Raizel, Feng Xuan, Altan, and Gorthan. The distinct signatures of the four Heavenly Talents, each blessed and recognized by this Chaos’s Heavenly Dao.

He infused his own aura with their Providence.

A subtle shift occurred.

The Heart of Creation pulsed again, but this time, the faint resistance, the almost imperceptible warning field around it, softened. Wavered. Receded.

It recognized the borrowed signatures. It mistook him, or rather, accepted his vessel, as one of its own.

‘Foolish, fragmented Dao,’ the Dragon Prince scoffed inwardly. ‘So easily deceived.’

He took a step forward, then another, until he stood directly beneath the floating marvel.

He reached up.

His fingers, crackling with azure energy now tinged with the colours of the fallen Talents, brushed against the surface of the Heart.

There was no repulsion. Only a welcoming thrum, an invitation to merge.

‘The vessel trembles,’ he noted dispassionately, observing the clone body’s reaction. ‘Even with the Chaotic Azure Dragon God bloodline, this influx will be… intense.’

But manageable. This clone was designed for power.

He closed his hand around the Heart of Creation.

It felt… alive. Warm. Like holding a newborn star, bursting with infinite potential.

Without hesitation, he drew it towards his chest.

The Heart phased through his robes, through flesh and bone, sinking directly into the core of the clone’s being, where its dantian equivalent resided.

WHOOOOM!

Power. Raw, untamed, creative power exploded within him.

It wasn’t just energy; it was the fundamental code of reality, the blueprint of stars, the song of life, the very essence of existence.

His azure aura flared blindingly, washing the chamber in light so intense it threatened to dissolve the obsidian floor.

The absorbed energies of the Heavenly Talents were instantly assimilated, refined, integrated into the surging tide.

His power level skyrocketed.

Peak Divine Ascension.

Half-step Godking.

Godking Realm!

The barrier shattered effortlessly. He felt the laws of the Chaos cosmos bend to his will, the fragmented Heavenly Dao acknowledging his new status, trembling slightly before his might.

‘Godking…’ The word echoed in his mind, tasting like ash compared to his true self, yet still a significant milestone for this vessel.

He felt the sheer, overwhelming power coursing through him. Control over fundamental forces, the ability to reshape reality within this Chaos, the authority to command its lesser laws.

‘This Heart… its potential is immense,’ he assessed, the torrent slowing, integrating. ‘In a lesser, younger universe, this alone could elevate one to the rank of Cosmos Overlord.’

But this Chaos was old, albeit weakened. And he… he was still just a vessel, a fragment.

His purpose wasn’t to rule this backwater reality.

‘Still,’ he conceded, a spark of satisfaction gleaming in his azure eyes. ‘It provides more than enough power for the next step.’

He flexed his fingers, feeling the hum of creation settled within him, now subservient to his ancient will.

The Secret Realm, its purpose fulfilled, began to subtly dim, its ambient energy no longer converging, its treasures now just relics in a fading pocket dimension.

The Dragon Prince paid it no mind.

He turned, his gaze piercing the boundaries of the realm, looking out into the void, then locking onto a specific point far, far away within the Western Cosmos.

A faint smirk touched his lips.

‘Now… for the anomaly.’

He remembered the data gleaned from the minds of the Talents. Wang Jian. The upstart who had defied Providence, stolen fortune, and defeated his lesser incarnation.

‘To slay a vessel of mine, even a deliberately weakened one meant only to test the waters of that lower realm… Impressive. Very impressive.’

There was no anger, only cold curiosity and calculation. And perhaps… a flicker of something akin to anticipation.

‘Let’s see if this Wang Jian is truly as interesting as their memories suggest.’

With a thought, the fabric of space before him tore open, revealing the familiar starry expanse of the Chaos cosmos.

He stepped through, the Secret Realm sealing itself behind him, destined to fade back into obscurity.

He was a Godking now, moving through the void with effortless speed, a streak of azure light heading directly towards the energy signature that pulsed like a chaotic beacon in the Western Cosmos.

He was heading straight for Wang Jian.

The Heavenly Jade Pavilion, currently docked within Wang Jian’s mobile battleship fortress, was a scene of decadent pleasure.

Wang Jian lounged on silken cushions, surrounded by the newly ‘acquired’ consorts of the Heavenly Talents. Seraphina, the Mistress of Astral Illusions, was tentatively pouring him nebula nectar, her ethereal form shimmering slightly under his intense gaze. Anya, the fiery Star Goddess, sat stiffly nearby, trying very hard not to look intrigued by the sheer audacity of it all.

Others, wives of Feng Xuan, Raizel, and Gorthan, were scattered around, some openly enjoying the luxurious treatment and attention, others still wary, their loyalties (or lack thereof) a tangled mess.

His own original wives – Yujia, Xinqiao, Han Chenyu, and Jingyi Zhumin – moved among them, ensuring their ‘guests’ were comfortable, occasionally exchanging amused glances with their Master.

Life was, indeed, very good.

‘Operation Henhouse Raid was a masterstroke,’ Wang Jian thought, lazily accepting the cup from Seraphina, his fingers brushing hers, eliciting another shimmer. ‘Altan and the others must be having a fantastic time chasing ghosts in the void.’

He chuckled inwardly. ‘When they get back… Oh, the drama.’

He leaned back, planning his next move. Perhaps a tour of the battleship? A demonstration of his power? More… intimate conversations?

Suddenly, the ambient energy in the pavilion shifted.

A tremor, almost imperceptible at first, ran through the very structure of his battleship.

Wang Jian’s lazy smile froze.

His senses, honed by countless battles and amplified by his unique cultivation, instantly flared.

He felt… something.

A pressure. Immense. Ancient. Overbearing.

And… familiar?

‘What the…?’

He sat up straighter, his blue eyes losing their playful glint, sharpening with sudden focus.

The pressure intensified rapidly. It wasn’t a direct attack, more like the passage of a colossal entity through the nearby void, its sheer presence warping space-time.

And it was heading directly this way.

‘That aura…’ Wang Jian frowned, sifting through his memories. ‘It feels like… No. It can’t be.’

He remembered the Dragon Prince from the lower realm. The impossible beauty, the terrifying draconic might, the battle that had pushed him to his absolute limit, forcing him to use every trick, every ounce of demonic power, to achieve a narrow victory.

This aura… it had echoes of that. The same ancient, draconic core. The same regal arrogance.

But magnified. A thousand times. A million times.

‘Godking Realm?’ The thought hit him like a physical blow. ‘That bastard… he survived? And reached Godking?’

The casual atmosphere in the pavilion evaporated. The women felt it too, the crushing pressure that made their souls tremble. Even the powerful consorts paled, fear replacing their complex emotions.

Wang Jian stood up abruptly.

‘Can’t fight here,’ his mind raced. ‘This level of power… the shockwaves alone would vaporize the battleship, everyone on board.’

He looked at Yujia, Xinqiao, and the others, his expression hardening with resolve. Protecting them was paramount.

“Stay inside. Seal the pavilion. Don’t come out, no matter what you hear,” he commanded, his voice low and urgent.

His wives nodded instantly, their expressions filled with concern but also absolute trust. The ‘guests’ looked terrified.

Wang Jian didn’t waste another second.

His form blurred, phasing through the walls of the pavilion, appearing outside on the deck of his vast battleship.

He looked up, into the starry expanse.

He could feel the approaching presence drawing nearer at incredible speed.

‘No hiding. He knows I’m here.’

He took a deep breath, centering himself. Fear was a useless emotion. Apprehension? Yes. Caution? Absolutely. But fear? Never.

He unleashed his own aura.

BOOM!

A wave of power erupted from Wang Jian, pushing back against the encroaching pressure.

Dark, demonic energy, swirling with abyssal hunger.

The potent, chaotic might of his Demonic Dragon bloodline, roaring silently.

The subtle, yet profound, energies of the Universal Laws he commanded – Space, Time, Elements, Life, Death – weaving together into a complex tapestry of defiance.

His cultivation base surged to its absolute peak – the pinnacle of the Divine Ascension Realm. His blue eyes glowed with barely contained power.

His aura flared outwards, a declaration to the cosmos, a challenge to the approaching entity.

He rose from the battleship, flying higher and higher into the void, putting distance between the impending confrontation and his vulnerable companions.

He stopped, floating alone amidst the stars, his robes billowing, his gaze fixed on the direction the pressure originated from.

A streak of azure light resolved into a figure.

A man of impossible beauty, radiating power that made the very stars seem dim. Long azure hair, eyes like swirling galaxies, robes woven from twilight.

It was him.

The Dragon Prince.

But not the one he remembered. This version was… transcendent. A true deity.

The Dragon Prince stopped a respectful distance away, his ancient, powerful gaze locking onto Wang Jian. The pressure intensified, a direct confrontation of wills and auras.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the Dragon Prince’s lips.

“Long time no see,” the Dragon Prince said, his voice resonating through the void, calm, smooth, yet carrying the weight of eons.

Wang Jian’s heart skipped a beat, despite himself.

‘Damn. It really is him.’

Shock warred with a healthy dose of apprehension. This pressure… it was suffocating. Far beyond the Heavenly Talents. This was true Godking might.

‘He looks… disturbingly familiar,’ Wang Jian mused, recalling the face from that final battle. ‘But the power level is off the charts.’

Yet, beneath the apprehension, Wang Jian felt his own battle intent stir. His demonic blood sang, his dragon soul roared. He wasn’t the same cultivator who had barely scraped by in the lower realm. He was Wang Jian, peak Divine Ascension, master of countless laws, wielder of demonic power.

‘Godking or not,’ he thought, steeling his resolve, ‘if he wants a fight, he’ll get one. I might not win easily, but I guarantee he won’t walk away unscathed.’

He felt confident in his foundations, his diverse powers, his chaotic energy that defied conventional cultivation systems. He could bridge the realm gap. He could fight this being to a standstill, maybe even find a weakness.

‘Is he another pawn of the Heavenly Dao?’ Wang Jian wondered, suspicion rising. ‘Sent to eliminate me now that the Talents failed? Or is this personal?’

He maintained his outward calm, matching the Dragon Prince’s gaze.

“You,” Wang Jian stated, his voice level. “Shouldn’t you be dead? I made sure of it.”

He let the implication hang in the air.

“And why are you here?” he pressed. “Come to finish the job? Or just sightseeing in my neck of the woods?”

The Dragon Prince chuckled softly, a sound like distant thunder rolling through the void.

“Direct, as always,” he commented, his azure eyes holding a hint of amusement, not menace. “Relax, Wang Jian. Put away the metaphorical claws.”

He gestured slightly with a hand, indicating Wang Jian’s fiercely projected aura.

“I haven’t come seeking retribution for that… unfortunate encounter in the lower realm.” He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Though, I admit, a rematch would be… stimulating. But alas.”

He sighed dramatically.

“I cannot afford to waste the power I currently possess. This Godking status,” he glanced down at himself, “is potent, but… temporary. Fuelled by certain… acquisitions.”

Wang Jian raised an eyebrow. ‘Acquisitions? Does he mean the Heavenly Talents? Did he devour them?’ The thought was chilling but also explained the sudden power jump.

“So, if not for a fight, then what?” Wang Jian asked, not lowering his guard. “Don’t tell me you came all this way to reminisce about old times.”

“Hardly,” the Dragon Prince replied smoothly. “I came with a proposal. An offer. I require your assistance, Wang Jian.”

Wang Jian blinked. ‘Assistance? From me?’ This was unexpected.

“My assistance?” he repeated skeptically. “With what? Polishing your throne? Counting your stars?”

The Dragon Prince’s smile didn’t waver. “Something far more ambitious. I intend to leave this… Chaos. This entire reality structure.”

He gestured expansively, encompassing the surrounding cosmos.

“And I want you to come with me.”

Wang Jian processed this. ‘Leave the Chaos? Go where?’

“Where exactly are we talking about?” Wang Jian asked cautiously.

“A place of true power. A higher reality that lords over countless realms like this one,” the Dragon Prince declared, his voice taking on a tone of grand importance. “We are going to the Primal Universe!”

‘Primal Universe?’ Wang Jian had never heard the term. ‘Lords over this Chaos? A higher world?’ The concept was staggering.

“And why, pray tell, do you need my help to go to this Primal Universe?” Wang Jian asked, suspicion still high. “You seem perfectly capable of tearing holes in reality all by yourself.”

“Opening the path requires a significant expenditure of power,” the Dragon Prince admitted easily. “Power I need to conserve. But more importantly… I foresee needing your unique talents once we arrive. Let’s just say… your particular brand of chaos might prove useful.”

He was being deliberately vague.

“Useful how?” Wang Jian pressed. “What exactly is the task you need help with? Don’t expect me to jump into another dimension blind.”

The Dragon Prince’s expression cooled slightly. The faint amusement faded, replaced by ancient authority.

“The specifics are not your concern at this stage,” he stated flatly. “Know only this: I require your assistance in the Primal Universe. My reasons are my own.”

He tilted his head, his azure eyes locking onto Wang Jian’s with unnerving intensity.

“Refuse, Wang Jian,” his voice dropped, losing all warmth, turning sharp as glacial ice, “and I will expend the necessary power. First, to ensure your… permanent silence. And second…”

His gaze flickered momentarily back towards Wang Jian’s distant battleship.

“…to visit your charming collection of companions. I doubt even your full power could stop me from reaching them if I am… sufficiently motivated. Godking power has its privileges, after all.”

A cold knot formed in Wang Jian’s stomach.

The threat was explicit. And believable.

He glanced back mentally at his wives, at Seraphina, Anya, the others. He could fight the Dragon Prince, yes. Defend himself? Certainly. Keep him occupied? Probably.

But stop a determined Godking from simultaneously targeting his women miles away while fighting him?

‘No,’ he admitted grimly. ‘He could do it. He could bypass my defenses, target them directly while I’m engaged. I can’t protect them all from that kind of focused assault.’

His expression turned serious, the playful defiance replaced by cold calculation.

“Threatening my women is a low blow, even for a Dragon Prince,” Wang Jian said quietly, his voice dangerously level.

The Dragon Prince merely shrugged, unmoved. “Necessity dictates methods. I require your cooperation. This is the most efficient way to ensure it.”

Wang Jian stared at him for a long moment, weighing his options. Fighting meant certain danger for his women. Complying meant walking into an unknown situation in a higher reality, essentially becoming this ancient being’s pawn.

But it also meant survival. For him, and for his women. And opportunity. A higher realm… the potential for power there could be unimaginable.

‘Damn it.’

“Alright,” Wang Jian conceded, forcing the word out. “You win this round. Tell me more about this Primal Universe. What am I getting myself into? And what’s my role supposed to be?”

A flicker of triumph, quickly suppressed, shone in the Dragon Prince’s eyes. He knew he had Wang Jian hooked.

“Wise decision,” the Dragon Prince said, his tone becoming slightly more congenial again. “The Primal Universe, as I said, is a higher-order reality. Vast beyond comprehension compared to this isolated Chaos. Its laws are more profound, its energy denser, its inhabitants… significantly more powerful.”

He paused, letting that sink in.

“My plan is to use the power I’ve gathered,” he indicated himself, “primarily from your fallen colleagues and the Heart of this realm, to tear open a stable passage. Not directly into the heart of the Primal Universe – that would attract far too much unwanted attention from entities that even I, in my true form, would hesitate to provoke prematurely.”

‘True form?’ Wang Jian noted that phrase. ‘So this really is just a clone or vessel?’

“Instead,” the Dragon Prince continued, “I will target one of its countless lower realms. A place where we can arrive undetected, a starting point.”

“A starting point for what?” Wang Jian asked.

“For you,” the Dragon Prince clarified. “You will need to acclimate. Cultivate. Grow stronger within the Primal Universe’s system. Its Heavenly Dao is… far more complete, far more vigilant than the fragmented whisper that governs this Chaos.”

He gave Wang Jian a knowing look.

“Which means,” he added pointedly, “your rather… unique method of rapidly increasing strength by acquiring the ‘destined partners’ of Providence’s chosen ones? It won’t work there. The Primal Heavenly Dao is not easily fooled or subverted. It would detect and likely obliterate you for such transgressions.”

Wang Jian frowned deeply. ‘He knows. He actually knows how my system works. How?’ The memories he absorbed from the Talents must have been incredibly detailed. And the implication… his primary shortcut to power was useless?

“So,” Wang Jian said slowly, “my main cultivation accelerator is offline. How exactly am I supposed to ‘get stronger’ in this super-powered universe full of vigilant gods, starting from scratch in some backwater lower realm?”

The Dragon Prince actually chuckled, a genuine, short laugh this time.

“Oh, Wang Jian,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Do you truly think so little of yourself? Your foundation is monstrous. Your adaptability is remarkable. You defeated my lesser self against all odds. You outplayed four Heavenly Talents. You command demonic power, draconic essence, and a disturbingly broad understanding of fundamental laws.”

He leaned forward slightly, his azure eyes twinkling with confidence – in Wang Jian, ironically.

“A minor inconvenience like a non-functional cheat system won’t stop you. You’ll find a way. You always do. I have… faith in your resourcefulness.” His smile turned cheeky. “Consider it a challenge, hmm?”

Wang Jian remained silent, processing this backhanded compliment and the daunting task ahead. Starting over, without his main advantage…

“What about my women?” Wang Jian asked, his voice firm. “What happens to them while I’m off playing pawn in another universe?”

“Ah, yes. Your extensive collection,” the Dragon Prince acknowledged. “Unfortunately, traversing dimensional barriers of this magnitude with attached pocket dimensions, like your Dantian world, is… problematic. Unstable. Likely impossible without power far exceeding what even I currently command in this vessel.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “They stay here. In this Chaos.”

Wang Jian bristled. “Leave them? Defenseless?”

“Not defenseless,” the Dragon Prince countered smoothly. “Secure. Before we depart, we will ensure their safety. And,” he added, anticipating Wang Jian’s next concern, “the Primal Universe is rich in resources and power beyond your current imagining. Once you reach a sufficient level of strength there – strong enough to manipulate its spatial laws on a grand scale – building a stable channel back to this specific Chaos coordinate will be entirely feasible. Difficult, yes, but achievable for someone of your potential. You can return for them.”

He offered it like a tantalizing promise.

Then came the next blow.

“There is one more… adjustment you’ll need to make,” the Dragon Prince said, his tone becoming serious again.

“Your techniques, your abilities, your divine skills… even your deep comprehension of this Chaos’s fundamental laws – Fire, Water, Wind, Lightning, Earth, Metal, Wood… Space, Time, Life, Death, Arrays, Alchemy, Smithing… all of the three thousand Daos as you understand them here…”

He let the pause stretch.

“They will be functionally useless in the Primal Universe.”

Wang Jian stared. “Useless? All of them? How?”

“Different reality, different foundational principles,” the Dragon Prince explained simply. “The underlying structure, the very weave of existence, is different. Your current understanding is tailored to this Chaos. It won’t translate directly. You will need to perceive, comprehend, and master the laws of the Primal Universe from the ground up.”

He saw the look on Wang Jian’s face and quickly added a caveat.

“However,” he said, raising a finger, “do not despair entirely. Your familiarity with the concepts will grant you an immense advantage. While the mechanics differ, the essence of ‘Fire’ or ‘Space’ remains. Your soul, your mind, already holds the imprint. Your comprehension speed for the Primal Laws should be extraordinarily fast compared to a native starting from zero. You’ll likely be considered a top-tier prodigy in terms of learning speed, even if you arrive with effectively zero applicable combat power or cultivation.”

From peak Divine Ascension, master of countless laws, to a functional beginner with only accelerated learning potential. It was a staggering reset.

Wang Jian remained silent for a long time, floating in the void, staring at the impossibly powerful Dragon Prince, contemplating the abyss of the unknown.

Leave his power behind. Leave his women behind. Start over in a hostile new reality, all on the whim of this ancient entity who offered threats and vague promises.

But the alternative… staying meant facing this Godking now, risking everything, including his women. And the Primal Universe… the lure of a higher reality, of truly unimaginable power, was a siren song to a cultivator like him.

‘Risk versus reward,’ he thought. ‘Calculated gamble.’

Finally, he looked at the Dragon Prince.

“Alright,” Wang Jian said, his voice firm with decision. “I’ll go.”

“But not immediately.”

“I need seven days.”

The Dragon Prince raised an elegant eyebrow. “Seven days? For farewells?”

“No,” Wang Jian stated flatly. “Seven days to ensure that absolutely nothing and no one in this Chaos can ever harm my women after I leave.”

His eyes gleamed with cold determination. “No faction. No hidden masters. No future Heavenly Talents seeking revenge or fortune. Not even your ‘fragmented whisper’ of a Heavenly Dao.”

He needed to set up protections, contingencies, fail-safes. Leave behind guardians, resources, warnings. Burn his mark so deep into this cosmos that everyone understood: his women were untouchable.

The Dragon Prince considered this. Ensuring the safety of Wang Jian’s anchor back in this Chaos might actually strengthen Wang Jian’s resolve to return, which served his own long-term goals.

“A reasonable request,” the Dragon Prince conceded after a moment. “And perhaps… I can assist.”

He focused his Godking aura, directing a portion of his will towards the underlying consciousness of the Chaos cosmos.

“Heavenly Dao of this realm,” the Dragon Prince’s voice boomed, not physically, but on a level of pure law and authority, “Hear my decree! The beings designated by Wang Jian,” he projected the specific life signatures of Wang Jian’s wives and consorts into the Dao’s awareness, “are hereby placed under absolute protection. Any entity, any force, any intent originating from within this Chaos that seeks to harm them shall face direct annihilation by the Laws themselves. This decree is absolute, enforced by my authority as a Godking. Acknowledge!”

The void itself seemed to tremble. A faint, almost imperceptible hum resonated through space – the acknowledgement of the weakened Heavenly Dao spirit, bowing to the will of a Godking.

Wang Jian felt it. The shift in the fundamental laws. A protective cocoon of Providence settling over the location of his battleship, linked directly to his designated women.

He stared at the Dragon Prince, shocked.

‘He… he just ordered the Heavenly Dao around? And it obeyed?’

The sheer power disparity was laid bare. A Godking truly was on another level entirely.

“Consider it… a gesture of goodwill,” the Dragon Prince said lightly, retracting his commanding aura. “That should handle any interference from the native systems or future ‘Talents’. You may focus your seven days on more… mundane threats.”

Wang Jian slowly nodded, still processing the casual display of absolute authority. “Alright. Seven days. Then we go to the Primal Universe.”

“Excellent,” the Dragon Prince smiled. “I shall await you here in the void. Do try not to keep me waiting too long.”

With a final, penetrating look, the Dragon Prince’s form dissolved back into azure light, vanishing from sight, though Wang Jian could still feel his immense presence lingering nearby in the void, a silent observer.

Wang Jian took a deep breath, the immediate pressure lifting, replaced by the heavy weight of the future.

He turned and flew back towards his battleship, his mind already racing, formulating plans. Seven days. He had a lot to do. And a lot of difficult conversations ahead.

Seven Days Later…

The seven days passed in a blur of activity and emotion.

Wang Jian worked tirelessly, utilizing his mastery of formations, alchemy, and his remaining influence to establish layers upon layers of protection around his battleship and, more importantly, directly linked to each of his women. He left behind guardian puppets imbued with his demonic energy, vast resources, and stern warnings broadcast subtly across the Western Cosmos and beyond. He ensured his original faction ties were solidified, providing external support.

But the hardest part was telling them.

He gathered his wives first, in the grand hall of the Heavenly Jade Pavilion. Empress Su Xiao, calm and regal as always. Second Queen Fen Shuying, her fiery spirit subdued with concern. Third Queen Chen Yiyan, quiet and analytical. Fourth Queen Hong Meilin, vibrant but worried. Fifth Queen Stella, her celestial beauty clouded. Sixth Queen Jin Meixiang, her usual mischievousness absent.

He explained everything. The Dragon Prince. The Godking Realm. The threat. The Primal Universe. The reset of his powers. The need to leave. The promise to return.

Silence greeted his explanation.

Su Xiao was the first to speak, her voice steady. “You must go, husband. This Dragon Prince… his threat is too great to ignore, and the opportunity… it is undeniable for your path.”

‘She understands,’ Wang Jian thought, relieved but also pained. ‘Always pragmatic.’

Fen Shuying clenched her fists. “That arrogant lizard dares threaten us? When you return, husband, we’ll hunt him down together!”

‘That’s more like it,’ a faint smile touched Wang Jian’s lips.

Chen Yiyan asked quietly, “The reset… starting over… will it be dangerous?”

“Extremely,” Wang Jian admitted honestly. “But necessary.”

Hong Meilin bounced forward, grabbing his arm. “Seven days is too short! But… but you promise you’ll come back? Promise?”

“I promise,” Wang Jian said, meeting her gaze, then looking at each of his wives. “I will grow strong enough. I will build the path. I will return for all of you.”

Stella and Jin Meixiang added their words of support, laced with sadness but ultimate understanding. They knew his path was one of constant advancement, even if this leap was terrifyingly large.

Then came the concubines. Kang Huian, Han Xifeng, Xiao Ling, Bixi Shuyan, the wise Elder Hua, the exotic Zyrithia, Xu Yuting, Yue Yanling, Yi Shi, Meng Xiangyi, and the trio from the lower realms, Victoria, Isabella, and Selena.

Their reactions varied from tearful pleas to stay, to quiet acceptance, to vows of waiting faithfully. He reassured each one, leaving personalized protections and resources. He spent time with them all, individually and together, cementing his promise.

He also spoke with the ‘new arrivals’ – Seraphina, Anya, and the others. He explained their situation: they were free, protected by the Heavenly Dao decree under his name, no longer bound to the fallen Talents. Their futures were their own, though they were welcome to remain under his protection. Their reactions were complex, a mixture of relief, confusion, and lingering fear or fascination with Wang Jian himself.

Finally, the seventh day arrived.

Wang Jian stood once more on the deck of his battleship, looking out at the void. His wives and concubines stood behind him, a silent testament to the life he had built here.

He turned, gave them one last, long look, etching their faces into his memory. A final nod to Su Xiao.

Then, he turned back to the void and ascended.

The azure light of the Dragon Prince instantly reappeared before him.

“Ready?” the Dragon Prince asked, his expression unreadable.

Wang Jian nodded, taking a deep breath, steeling himself for the unknown. “Let’s go.”

The Dragon Prince smiled, a true, predatory smile this time. “Excellent.”

He raised his hands, the absorbed power of the Heart of Creation surging within him. Azure light exploded outwards, twisting space, tearing reality, fueled by Godking might.

Before Wang Jian, the fabric of the Chaos cosmos ripped open, revealing not darkness, but a swirling vortex of colours and energies utterly alien to him.

The gateway to the Primal Universe.

“After you,” the Dragon Prince gestured, his eyes gleaming with ancient plans finally set in motion.

Wang Jian gave one last look back at the distant glimmer of his battleship, then turned and plunged into the chaotic vortex, leaving the Chaos cosmos behind.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep