Tower: Rebirth of the Absolute Demon-Chapter 69: Ch : Unexpected Revival

The blade pulsed with energy... a deep, purplish hue that seemed to consume the very light around it.

Blood spilled from his lips, but it wasn’t red. It was black.

A thick, viscous black that dripped onto the castle stones.

Ye Zhao didn’t turn around.

He didn’t need to.

He already knew.

The deity behind him was no ordinary god.

The being holding the sword stepped forward, its form radiating an unnatural presence.

It was clad in dark blue mage robes that shimmered like the night sky. Its body was made of void itself... a swirling mass of stars and galaxies.

Where its head should have been was a foggy, flame-like void of dark blue energy, flickering ominously.

A cold, hollow voice broke the silence.

"How amusing..." the deity said, its tone almost playful.

"An undead standing beyond my authority. How curious... and how annoying."

The deity raised a hand, rubbing its formless chin in mock contemplation.

"You are no ordinary undead..." it mused.

"Your existence... it’s unlike anything I’ve seen."

Ye Zhao staggered slightly, his vision blurring as the sword drained his strength.

"Damn it" he cursed under his breath.

His breathing grew shallow, and his knees threatened to buckle.

He wanted to warn Ye Tian.

He wanted to shout.

But the words wouldn’t come.

The gods near the boundaries laughed, their voices echoing like thunder.

"Is this the Arrogant Mortal from before?" one mocked.

"Pathetic." another sneered.

But Ye Zhao knew.

The one standing behind him, the one who had pierced his chest, was stronger... This being was stronger than all 108 gods combined.

His energy was fading fast.

He was nearing the end.

Ye Zhao closed his eyes, a deep sense of regret washing over him.

"I’m sorry..." he thought.

"I couldn’t protect you... again."

As he prepared to embrace death, a sudden surge of mana enveloped his body.

The energy was overwhelming, coursing through him like a raging river.

It forced his eyes open, startling him.

The deity holding the sword recoiled slightly, its void-like form flickering.

"What... is this?!" the deity hissed, its cold voice filled with shock.

The gods at the boundary fell silent, their laughter replaced with uneasy murmurs.

A golden aura surrounded Ye Zhao’s body, its radiance cutting through the darkened skies.

And for the first time...

The gods... felt fear.

*****

Ye Zhao stumbled for a brief moment, his mind unable to comprehend the sheer power surging through his body.

The energy was overwhelming... more potent than anything he had ever experienced after becoming the undead.

He clenched his fists, feeling the flood of mana coursing through his veins.

His injuries, which moments ago had been life-threatening, vanished in an instant.

Not just healed... his body felt stronger, sturdier, and better.

The power did not wane... it only grew stronger, filling him with an endless reservoir of energy.

It was unrelenting, infinite, like a roaring ocean that refused to recede.

"What... is this power?" Ye Zhao muttered, his voice trembling with both awe and disbelief.

His eyes glimmered as realization struck him like a lightning bolt.

Ye Zhao’s mind raced back to his days as a cultivator, to a fundamental truth he had learned about the heavens’ ways.

Heavenly Tribulations.

In the world of cultivation, every great breakthrough came at a price.

The heavens themselves tested cultivators through a series of challenges known as tribulations... a punishment and a reward all at once.

Nine strikes of thunder.

Each bolt stronger than the last.

Each strike meant to destroy the body, shatter the soul, and break the mind.

Tribulations didn’t just test strength... they tested resolve, determination, and the right to wield immense power.

Those who failed were reduced to ash, their names erased from existence.

But those who succeeded emerged reborn.

Their injuries, no matter how severe, healed by divine grace.

Their souls fortified, their bodies stronger, their connection to the heavens deeper.

But this wasn’t his world anymore.

This cosmos had different rules.

Here, there were no tribulations.

Instead, there was scarcity... scarcity of knowledge, of resources, of strength.

Every step toward power was fraught with danger, and those who failed paid the ultimate price.

But one thing remained universal.

Karma.

"Junior brother" Ye Zhao whispered, a faint smile curling on his lips.

"You did it."

He could feel it now... the truth behind the power he was feeling.

Ye Tian had broken through.

But why was Ye Zhao receiving this strength instead of Ye Tian?

The answer was simple yet profound.

Ye Zhao wasn’t truly alive.

His undead existence was bound to Ye Tian’s consciousness... a connection forged by Ye Tian himself.

As long as Ye Tian lived, Ye Zhao’s will persisted.

And right now, Ye Tian, in his usual reckless fashion, had accomplished the impossible.

Not only had he strengthened his soul...

He had strengthened his mind.

Ye Tian had achieved something unparalleled in this world.

The 11th Circle.

The pinnacle of magical cultivation...

And as Ye Tian ascended, the power coursing through his body had overflowed, transferring into Ye Zhao through their bond.

For an undead, this was monumental.

Unlike the living, an undead’s mana pool was infinite.

The more power it received, the stronger it grew.

And now, Ye Zhao wasn’t just a protector.

He was a force of nature.

Ye Zhao exhaled slowly, his breath steady as his new strength settled within him.

Without hesitation, he raised his hand into the air.

His fingers closed around something invisible.

The deity behind him froze.

Its void-like form began to flicker, and a soundless gasp escaped from its featureless head.

"What... what is this?!" the deity’s voice trembled for the first time, its usual composure shattered.

Ye Zhao turned his head slightly, his gaze cold as ice.

"You talk too much." he said simply.

With a single motion, he clenched his fist and threw his hand to the side.

The deity’s form lurched violently, as though an unseen force had seized its neck.

It struggled, clawing at the invisible grip, but Ye Zhao gave it no chance to retaliate.

In a flash of motion, faster than the eye could follow, Ye Zhao slashed his sword through the deity’s body.

For a moment, the deity stood still.

Then, its form crumbled into nothingness, disintegrating into the smallest possible fragments.

The gods watching from the boundaries were stunned into silence.

Their confidence, which moments ago had been unshakable, now wavered.

The Sword Demon, a mere undead, had obliterated one of their own with a single strike.

Ye Zhao turned to face the remaining gods, his expression unreadable.

"Who’s next?" he asked, his voice carrying across the battlefield like a death knell.

The gods hesitated.

Even the strongest among them, beings who had looked down on Ye Zhao moments ago, now felt a pang of fear.

But Ye Zhao wasn’t done.

Reaching out, he touched the air with his palm.

A ripple of energy surged outward, shaking the ground beneath them.

The gods staggered as the air itself seemed to tremble under Ye Zhao’s control.

"I’ll make this simple" Ye Zhao said, his tone casual but laced with menace.

"You can either stand down... or die here."

Before the gods could respond, a voice echoed in Ye Zhao’s mind.

It was calm, familiar, and undeniably reckless.

"Senior brother... except for that bitch standing right in front of you... the one shining the brightest... do whatever you want with the rest of them."

Ye Zhao’s lips curled into a smirk.

"Understood, junior brother."

Ye Zhao tightened his grip on his blade, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

The gods took a collective step back, their confidence shattered.

Ye Zhao, now empowered by the strength of the 11th Circle, was an unstoppable force.

And for the first time in centuries, he allowed himself a moment of indulgence.

"Finally" he murmured, raising his sword.

"It’s time to settle the score."

With a flash of motion, he launched himself at the gods, his blade cutting through the air with unparalleled precision.

The battlefield descended into chaos.

Gods who had once mocked him now screamed in terror as Ye Zhao tore through their ranks.

Each strike of his blade was lethal, each motion devastating.

Blood, divine essence, and fragments of celestial forms littered the ground as the gods fell one by one.

Through it all, Ye Zhao’s voice rang out, clear and resolute.

"For daring to slander me!" he roared, cutting down another deity.

"For daring to challenge my junior brother... you will all pay!"

He turned to face the gods who still remained, their numbers dwindling.

"And for thinking you could kill the senior brother of the world’s once-worst demon..."

Ye Zhao’s smirk widened as he raised his sword again.

"Allow me to show you... why that title exists."

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