Poison God's Heritage

Chapter 931: Pseudo

The world of the Enforcer broke apart without ceremony. The red carpet beneath my feet, the endless hall that had looked like it was built from judgment itself, the throne that had sat at the end of it all like an accusation, all of it folded inward as if someone had crushed a painting in their fist. The last thing I saw before it vanished was the Enforcer’s smile, that calm, infuriating smile of something that had never once doubted the outcome of a test. =

A breath later, I was back in the void.

Space was silent, but the aftermath of the tribulation was not. It moved through the emptiness in waves that had no right to exist where there was no air, no sky, no clouds, and yet the heavens had never cared much for mortal explanations. Red tribulation clouds drifted around my ship like dying embers spilled across the sea of stars, their bodies thinning and tearing apart into faint crimson threads. The lightning that had once coiled in them like furious serpents had already faded, leaving behind only a heavy pressure that was slowly dispersing into the black. Every time one of those threads dissolved, the invisible weight on my shoulders lessened by a fraction, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to feel relieved.

My ship hovered not far away, unmoving in the open void, its formation plates dimly glowing as they continued to stabilize the surrounding space.

I moved toward the ship, my body dragging itself through space by instinct more than dignity. The fight had not killed me, which was already an achievement worth mentioning, but it had certainly tried its best to make me regret having bones. My meridians ached as if someone had grabbed them one by one and twisted them into knots. My blood was hot, my poison was restless, and my flesh still carried the deep memory of every strike the Enforcer had allowed to land.

The ship’s side opened as I approached, revealing the inner passage through a layered airlock of steel, inscriptions, and folded spatial seals. The moment I crossed the threshold, the formations closed behind me and the void was cut away. A faint hiss passed through the chamber as residual tribulation aura was stripped from my robes and flesh, though the formations could do nothing about the more irritating things, such as exhaustion, bruised pride, and the suspicion that the heavens had cheated me in some subtle manner.

I stood there for a moment after the inner door opened, frowning at my own hand. The Qi inside me had changed, that much was undeniable. It was deeper and denser than before, moving through my meridians with a weight that hadn’t existed prior to the tribulation. My poison also felt different. It was no longer simply something I commanded and circulated, but something that seemed to understand my intent before my intent fully formed, as if every drop had been sharpened during the battle and taught to listen better. My soul had also become steadier, wider in a way that was difficult to name. I had grown. I had passed. The Enforcer himself had said so.

And yet, I was not a Sun.

That realization made my frown deepen until even my wounds seemed to find it insulting. I had stood before Suns. I had seen what their existence did to the world. They did not simply possess greater Qi. They carried a truth so deeply rooted into themselves that the world around them bent, even if only slightly, in response.

I had more power than before, yes, but I didn’t feel like that. I felt like someone who had climbed a mountain only to find that the peak was actually a ledge halfway up a much larger mountain, and some old bastard had simply forgotten to mention it because apparently that was funny. The feeling sat between my ribs, heavy and annoying. I was not Heaven Stage as I had been, but I was not truly Sun Stage either. I was between them, suspended in a place that felt more like an unfinished sentence than a breakthrough.

The control chamber was quiet when I entered. The large viewing wall showed the dying red clouds outside, the darkness of space beyond them, and the distant curve of Solarous far behind us, wounded and silent beneath the stars. Law was not there. He was somewhere deeper in the ship, likely in one of the rooms, either sleeping, pretending to sleep, or doing something that would eventually become my problem because that was usually how his luck worked. The only one waiting in the chamber was the Dusking Sun, who had made himself comfortable near the front of the ship with shameless ease as if it was his own house. Not that I minded of course.

He looked up the moment I entered, his eyes passing over my torn robes, the dried blood, the faint tremble in my arm, and the expression on my face. A grin spread across his own, one that showed amusement first and concern second, though with him it was often hard to tell if concern simply meant he was curious whether I would collapse before or after he mocked me. “You returned alive,” he said, standing with his arms loosely folded over his chest. “That alone deserves congratulations. Many cultivators would have turned to dust from the first breath of that tribulation, let alone whatever happened after the heavens pulled you away.”

“I would appreciate the congratulations more if my body didn’t feel like it had been used as a teaching tool,” I said, stepping farther into the chamber while the last of the red clouds continued to thin beyond the viewing wall. The ship’s formations hummed beneath the metal floor, steady and low, while my own Qi answered them with an uneasy rhythm

The Dusking Sun’s grin slowly settled into something more thoughtful as he studied me again, and for once, he didn’t immediately throw some beastly nonsense at me. He waited until I stopped near the center of the chamber, then asked, “Why’s the long face?”

“I’m pretty sure I passed the Sun Stage tribulation but I don’t feel like a sun stage,” I said, and the words tasted worse once spoken aloud. Saying it made the situation more real, and I disliked when reality insisted on being real. “My Qi changed, my poison changed, even my soul feels wider, but there’s something missing. I’m not where I should be.”

The Dusking Sun blinked once, then snorted like I had said something obvious enough to embarrass both of us. “Of course you wouldn’t, why do you think you would?”

I turned my head toward him slowly, the pain in my neck making the motion more dramatic than intended. “Why would I think I wouldn’t?” I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice and failing because I was tired, bruised, and in no mood to be treated like a junior asking why the sky was high.

“Because passing the tribulation means the heavens allowed you to stand before the gate. It doesn’t mean you walked through it properly,” the Dusking Sun said, and he moved closer to the viewing wall, the fading crimson light painting his face in a dull, bloody glow. “Most stages are simple in comparison. You gather enough power, you reach a boundary, the heavens test whether you have the right to keep going, and if you survive, the realm opens. The Sun Stage is not that forgiving. It is not only a matter of strength. It is the stage where your domain stops being something you use and becomes something that is rooted into your existence.”