SSS-Rank 10x Reward System: Accepting Disciples to Live Forever-Chapter 212: End ?

While most cultivators were immersed in their own quiet pursuits, another ten years passed as effortlessly as a drifting cloud.

Twenty years.

Wang Chen and his group had been sailing for twenty years straight.

And yet—

The ocean remained unchanged.

The same endless stretch of blue, and same steady wind.

The same rhythm of waves striking the hull.

The horizon never drew closer.

It never receded.

It simply existed.

Strangely, no one seemed bothered.

Except Wang Chen.

Except a few whose eyes still retained a trace of sharpness.

The majority had long forgotten why they boarded this ship.

The Dragon Race’s inheritance.

The competition.

The urgency.

All of it had dissolved quietly.

Some cultivators had fallen in love.

Wang Chen had watched a former warlike Immortal who once commanded legions now spend his days carving wooden toys for a woman who laughed like wind chimes in summer.

Others discovered hobbies—painting sunsets across endless canvases, composing poetry about the sea, debating philosophy beneath lantern-lit decks at night.

Families formed.

Children were born aboard ships that never reached land.

Lovers walked hand in hand across the deck, convinced their happiness would stretch on forever.

The ships felt less like vessels of trial and more like floating villages.

Endless sunshine.

Endless laughter.

Endless peace.

And yet—

Wang Chen felt a tightening in his chest.

An inexplicable dread.

Something was wrong.

Deeply wrong.

The perfection itself was unsettling.

Just as a faint chill ran down his spine, soft footsteps approached from behind.

He turned.

Demon Queen Zi Han walked toward him.

Her steps were light.

Her expression dazed.

A soft, almost dreamy smile rested on her lips—like someone intoxicated by warmth.

The sight made Wang Chen’s face turn solemn.

This was not the composed Demon Queen.

Not even the softened version from years ago.

This was someone drifting.

Mo Huyan’s calm voice echoed in his mind.

"She’s forgotten her purpose."

Wang Chen’s jaw tightened slightly.

"Slowly, the dream of the Eternal Dragon is consuming her. Soon, she will become part of it."

Part of it.

Not merely lost.

Absorbed.

Mo Huyan hovered silently in the air, her gaze shifting from Zi Han to Wang Chen.

There was mild surprise in her ancient eyes.

This was the true inheritance ground.

Not a replica.

Not a feeding ground.

And yet—

This little cultivator, weak in comparison to the Immortals here, had maintained clarity for twenty years.

That was no small feat.

"Little cultivator," she said quietly, her tone carrying an unusual weight, "you must persevere."

Wang Chen did not respond verbally, but his attention sharpened.

"The test is nearing its end."

Her eyes flickered toward the horizon.

"Once ninety-nine percent of the entrants lose themselves to the dream, it will shatter."

The words carried certainty.

"When it breaks, rush toward the Statue of the Eternal Dragon."

Her gaze locked onto his.

"The one who reaches it first shall become the true heir."

Wang Chen’s pupils contracted slightly.

So that was the real mechanism.

Not shipbuilding.

Not sailing.

It was all about endurance and clarity.

Persistence of self.

Mo Huyan continued, her voice softer now.

"Of all who entered, only you remain ignorant of this detail. The powerful immortals already know."

There was no mockery in her tone.

Only fact.

"Though I doubt you can compete with the high-level cultivators once the illusion collapses..."

She paused briefly.

"...this is the least I can do."

Wang Chen’s gaze drifted across the deck.

Laughter echoed nearby.

Children ran past him.

Zi Han stood only a few steps away, her eyes filled with gentle affection, unaware of the storm gathering beyond perception.

Twenty years of calm.

Twenty years of peace.

And soon—

Everything would shatter.

Realization dawned slowly across Wang Chen’s face.

"So that’s it..." he muttered under his breath.

He nodded faintly.

For years he had felt it—the subtle pressure in the air, the strange current flowing beneath the calm surface of the world. It had been growing stronger day by day, like tension building beneath ice that was ready to crack.

The illusion was reaching its limit.

A quiet sense of gratitude rose within him as his gaze shifted briefly toward Mo Huyan.

Without her, he might have already surrendered to the warmth of this endless sea.

Might have built a house on this deck.

Might have forgotten everything.

Just then—

Zi Han’s pupils contracted sharply.

Her dreamy smile froze.

And her body went limp.

"Fellow Daoist Zi!"

Wang Chen lunged forward and caught her by the waist before she could strike the wooden deck. Her body felt warm. Real. Fragile in a way it had never seemed before.

"Are you alright?"

No response.

Her breathing was steady.

Calm.

But her mind was gone.

Trapped inside the dream.

Just as Mo Huyan had warned.

Wang Chen’s jaw tightened.

"Nether Empress," he asked quickly, urgency threading through his voice, "is there any way to wake her?"

Mo Huyan’s lips curved into a faint smirk.

"Of course."

Her tone was almost light.

"Once you become the Dragon Heir, breaking this illusion will be as easy as snapping a twig."

Her eyes sharpened slightly.

"What you should worry about is whether you can defeat the immortals and reach the statue first."

Wang Chen exhaled quietly.

There was a way.

That was enough.

He gently laid Zi Han down on the deck, adjusting her posture so her head rested comfortably against folded cloth. Around him, the atmosphere had shifted.

One after another—

Cultivators began collapsing.

Some crumpled where they stood, their bodies slack as if their souls had simply drifted away.

Others, standing too close to the edge of the ship, toppled silently into the ocean below.

No screams.

No resistance.

Just surrender.

Then—

A booming voice tore through the air.

"It’s finally over! I can see it—the Statue of the Eternal Dragon!"

The All-Seeing Immortal stood at the bow of his vessel, eyes wide, gleaming with unrestrained madness and triumph.

Wang Chen turned toward the horizon.

And saw it.

Thousands of kilometers away, piercing through the fading veil of the dream, stood a towering statue of a crystalline white dragon.

Its scales shimmered like carved moonlight.

Its wings stretched wide, vast enough to eclipse mountains.

Its enormous eyes glowed faintly with a deep purple radiance.

Those eyes swept across the sea.

Across the ships.

Across every living being.

And then—

For the briefest instant—

They locked onto Wang Chen.

A chill pierced straight through him.

It felt as if invisible fingers had peeled back every layer of his existence.

Every secret.

Every hidden thought.

Every trace of Authority.

He felt naked before that gaze.

Then—

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Once.

Twice.

Each beat thundered louder than the crashing waves.

With every pulse, power surged back into his body.

The emptiness within him filled violently.

His suppressed cultivation returned like a flood breaking through a shattered dam.

Spiritual energy roared through his meridians.

Divine Sense burst outward instinctively.

Nascent Soul trembled.

The Eternal Divine Flame flared.

He staggered slightly as strength—raw and overwhelming—reclaimed its rightful place.

"Little cultivator," Mo Huyan’s voice cut through the chaos, solemn and sharp, "get ready."

The sea trembled.

The sky fractured like cracked glass.

"When the dream breaks," she continued, "run toward the statue with everything you have."

Her expression softened ever so slightly.

Logic told her he should not stand a chance against Domain Sovereigns and Immortal veterans.

But instinct...

Instinct told her something else.

After all—

She had witnessed him grasp the Authority of Non-existence with her own eyes.