The manor buzzed with tension as Liang Wei and the steward deliberated behind closed doors, the Iron Fang's dying words—"A traitor… in the house…"—casting a shadow over Chen City. Tian Zun slipped away from the chaos, his golden eyes glinting with purpose. The fountain's hum, the aberrant ki in Lotus Vale, the dimensional wall—they all pointed to a truth he needed to grasp alone. Under the cover of night, he left the manor, his servant's robes blending into the darkness as he ventured westward, deeper into the forested hills beyond the city's edge. The air grew colder, the trees denser, their gnarled branches whispering secrets of Hongmeng World's untamed energy.
After an hour of trekking, Tian Zun found what he sought—a cave nestled in a rocky outcrop, its entrance shrouded by vines and mist. The faint pulse of ancient ki emanated from within, a remnant of the Shattered Epoch, calling to his soul. He stepped inside, the darkness swallowing him whole, and sat cross-legged on the damp stone floor. The cave's walls shimmered faintly, etched with faded runes that spoke of a time when the sky bled crimson. Here, far from the manor's distractions, he would build his foundation—a Primordial Chaos Foundation, rooted in the universe's deepest mysteries, a base so profound that even the Supremes of his past lives had failed to comprehend its depths.
Tian Zun closed his eyes, his Cultivation Rank 9 ki stirring like a fragile ember. He reached inward, his soul flaring—a silver flame that had endured nine trillion reincarnations, a force beyond the heavens themselves. The heavens had bowed before his might in eons past, and now, in this frail shell, he would forge a path to shatter dimensions. He drew on the chaos of Hongmeng, the wild currents he'd sensed since arriving, and channeled them into his core. The cave trembled as his ki surged, a primal energy older than the stars, a Primordial Chaos that wove the universe's first threads. His soul pulsed, merging with this chaos, and visions flooded his mind—shattered galaxies, swirling voids, a wall between dimensions trembling under his gaze.
The foundation took shape, a swirling vortex of silver and black at his core, its edges crackling with untamed power. It was unlike any path in Hongmeng—not the Taoists' elemental fury, nor the Erudites' scholarly truth, nor the Martial Artists' ki-forged steel. It was a base of pure chaos, a mystery that defied comprehension, a foundation that could one day rend the fabric of reality itself. Pain lanced through his body, his meridians straining under the strain, but his will held firm. The Primordial Chaos Foundation solidified, a seed of limitless potential, marking his first true step beyond Cultivation Rank 9.
With the foundation set, Tian Zun turned to techniques. He delved into his soul, searching the vast tapestry of his reincarnations. Memories surfaced—techniques from forgotten worlds, each a masterpiece of destruction and creation. A Starfall Strike that sundered mountains, a Void Whisper that silenced realms, a Crimson Lotus Bloom that burned through fate itself. But as he sifted through them, a new idea sparked, born from his understanding of Hongmeng's laws. What if he crafted a technique that fused the flow of all laws—the Five Elements of fire, water, earth, wind, and metal; the raw force of Nature; the Truth Energy of scholars; the elusive Law of Space; the primal Chaos he now wielded; and the ethereal essence of Aace, a concept he'd glimpsed in a life long past, a law of pure existence?
The vision took shape—a technique he'd call Flow of Eternal Laws, a strike that harmonized these forces into a single, unstoppable wave, capable of shattering dimensions and rewriting reality. But as he traced its outline, his body trembled, his Cultivation Rank 9 ki faltering. The technique demanded power far beyond his current state, a mastery of laws he could only glimpse. With a reluctant sigh, he postponed it, sealing the concept in his soul for a later time. For now, the Primordial Chaos Foundation would be his weapon, a base to build upon.
Hours passed in the cave, the night deepening outside. Tian Zun emerged, his aura subtly changed, a faint silver glow beneath his skin. He returned to the manor under the first light of dawn, slipping into the courtyard unnoticed. But as he passed the children's quarters, a ripple in his soul stopped him cold. His soul, eternal and unbound by the heavens' rules, sensed discord—a darkness festering within the house.
He extended his soul's reach, a technique he'd mastered in a life as a Soul Sovereign, traversing the manor's energies. The body is a shell; the soul is eternal, he thought, his silver flame piercing the veil. What he found chilled even his ancient heart. The nanny, an elderly woman named Madam Hu, stood over Tianyi and Meilin in their room, her voice a venomous whisper. "Your father's kindness will ruin this house," she hissed, her Cultivation Rank 7 low ki laced with malice. "Jian should lead, not Liang Wei. Tell your father you hate him—say he's weak, unfit." Tianyi, half-asleep, stirred uneasily, while Meilin clutched her blanket, tears in her eyes.
Madam Hu's actions were deliberate, sowing discord to fracture the family. Tian Zun's soul traced her intent—her loyalty wasn't to Liang Wei but to Jian, the eldest son, whose cold ambition had grown in the Crimson Blade Order. She was a pawn, but a dangerous one, her mistreatment of the children a blade aimed at the manor's heart. Tian Zun withdrew his soul, his golden eyes narrowing. His soul, a force that had made heavens bow, saw through her petty schemes, but he held back. This body was too weak to act directly, and the traitor's shadow loomed larger than one nanny's betrayal.
He retreated to the fountain, its hum now a familiar comfort. The shadow appeared again, its ember-eyes watching, but this time it spoke—a single word, "Epoch," before vanishing. Tian Zun's mind raced. The Shattered Epoch, the traitor, the dimensional wall—they were converging. He would confront Madam Hu soon, but first, he needed strength. The Primordial Chaos Foundation was a start, but the Flow of Eternal Laws beckoned, a technique that could one day sunder the heavens themselves.