Cultivator of the End: I Refine My Own Death-Chapter 117 – Shackled Heaven Roots

The air around Rin crackled with the power of the Cultivation Soul Core he had just absorbed. It was a violent storm, surging through his body, breaking through his very essence. His chest rose and fell, each breath like the caress of a distant wind brushing across the surface of a turbulent sea. He stood at the center of the Tomb of Crawling Nails, the echo of death's final whispers still lingering in the air. But something had changed.

The death technique, the Hundredfold Dying Intent, had felt different this time—more potent, more complete. As the leader's Cultivation Soul Core was consumed, Rin felt his Death Core hum with a strange resonance. A whisper of something far beyond the corporeal realm began to unfurl deep within him. It was as though a door had opened, and beyond it, something ancient and terrible was watching him.

The Heaven Chains.

The term struck him like a lightning bolt, jarring his senses. The idea flashed into his mind, vivid and clear. He saw a vision—a sea of chains, stretching infinitely into the void. These chains were not metal, but ethereal strands woven from divine power. They were ancient, placed upon the very fabric of the heavens, binding the forces of death to the mortal realm. Each chain shimmered with divine energy, curling and wrapping around the hearts of cultivators like invisible roots, their presence unnoticed, yet undeniable.

He knew, in that instant, that these chains were not ordinary. They were shackles placed upon all mortals. They were the divine seal, the restraint designed to prevent any mortal from transcending death, from breaking free of the natural cycle. And it was then, in the quiet of his mind, that Rin understood the true purpose of his Death Refinement Dao.

It was not merely a path to power. It was a rebellion. A rebellion against the chains. Against the gods. Against the heavens themselves.

His breath hitched. He could feel the pull of the Death Core deep within him, its darkness stirring like a sleeping beast. It was corroding the first of the Heaven Chains. The divine seal that had kept mortals bound to the cycle of life and death was beginning to weaken, a single strand of it fraying under the corrosive influence of the Death Refinement Dao.

"No..." he muttered, shaking his head as the vision deepened. "What is this? How am I... how am I doing this?"

His gaze fell to his hands, trembling slightly as he clenched his fists. The power he had attained, the soul cores and techniques he had mastered—it was all connected, all leading him toward this inevitable conclusion. His cultivation, his death-fueled power, was more than a tool. It was a key, a destructive force designed to unravel the chains of the heavens. A forbidden art that the gods had sought to suppress.

A dark smile tugged at the corners of Rin's lips. "So this is what I've become. A force meant to shatter their shackles."

But the path was not without its dangers. He had always known that death cultivation was an art frowned upon by the powers above. The warnings had come often, even from the sect that once raised him. The old teachings, the lessons carved into the stone tablets of the sect's library, were clear: death cultivation was an art too dangerous to be practiced. Too divine.

What the sect had failed to explain, however, was why.

"They warned us against it," Rin mused. "They said it was a path to destruction, a forbidden Dao that would lead to catastrophe. But now... now I see. Death cultivation is a threat. A threat to the balance they've created. A threat to their control."

The more Rin meditated on it, the more the pieces fell into place. His entire journey had been one of refining death—of growing stronger through the very force that had been used to subjugate mortals. But with each piece of death he absorbed, with each soul he devoured, the chains began to weaken.

The world around him was a constructed lie, a veil of illusion woven by the heavens. Mortals were kept ignorant, shackled to the cycle of reincarnation, doomed to live and die without ever knowing the truth. The gods, those aloof entities who watched over all, had long ago sealed off the path to transcendence, preventing anyone from reaching beyond the mortal realm. Their domain of control was absolute. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

But Rin... Rin was different.

His Death Refinement Dao wasn't merely a rejection of the cycle—it was an obliteration of it.

"This is the truth they've kept hidden," Rin continued, his voice a whisper that echoed against the walls of the tomb. "The gods, the heavens—they have shackled us all. And they want to keep us in the dark, to keep us from ever knowing what lies beyond the veil."

But even as he spoke, doubt flickered in his heart. The more he delved into the depths of his own cultivation, the more questions arose. Who were these gods, truly? What were they protecting? Why had they sealed off the path to transcendence? Why had they chosen to imprison mortals in this cycle of life and death?

Was this rebellion truly a path to freedom, or was it a trap—a temptation to undo the balance they had created, only to plunge the world into chaos?

"I don't know," he muttered, shaking his head again. "But I will find out."

Rin's eyes narrowed as he turned his focus inward, the dark energy of his Death Core swirling beneath his skin. The feeling of the chains, of something ancient watching him from the abyss, was still fresh in his mind. But as he focused on his power, he realized something—something deeper than mere suspicion.

His Death Core... it was alive.

It wasn't just a tool for cultivating death. It was a seed. A root of death, and it was beginning to take root within him. The more it grew, the more it fed on death, the more it threatened to spread, to root into the very fabric of the heavens.

And that was the key.

He was not simply fighting the chains of the gods—he was becoming part of them. The Death Core was the seed that would unravel the chains, pull them free from the divine roots, and allow him to transcend. It was the essence of death itself, breaking through the divine barriers that held the heavens in place.

As he focused on this realization, the first of the Heaven Chains—just one—began to snap. The divine seal shuddered and cracked, a violent tremor that reverberated through Rin's body. He felt it, deep in his bones. The power of the gods, the very force that had once held everything together, was beginning to unravel.

Rin's breath hitched as the vision grew clearer. The chain that had broken was not just a fragment of power—it was a warning. The first chain was the weakest, but with each step Rin took along his path, more would break. More would fall away. And as they did, the heavens themselves would tremble.

"The gods will not let me go so easily," Rin muttered, his eyes narrowing. "But I will make them."

A dark laughter bubbled up from deep within him. This was not a path of easy power. This was not a path for the faint-hearted. But Rin was beyond that. He was beyond the world, beyond the gods themselves.

With the first chain broken, he felt the weight of the world shift.

The road ahead would be dark, dangerous, and filled with obstacles. But Rin no longer feared the consequences. His Death Refinement Dao was not just a means to power—it was a declaration of war. Against the gods. Against the heavens. Against the cycle that had imprisoned humanity for millennia.

"Let them come," Rin whispered. "Let them see what happens when the chains are broken."

To be continued...