Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!-Chapter 109: Imperial Artifact

Shangguan Mu’er opened her eyes, finding herself standing amidst a vast, emerald-green plain that stretched toward an infinite horizon.

The air here was sweet, saturated with a concentration of spiritual Qi so dense it felt like breathing liquid silk.

However, it was not the beauty of the plains that stole her breath. It was the sky.

Hanging directly above the center of the world was a majestic, floating gothic fortress of such architectural arrogance that it seemed to mock the laws of heaven itself.

Its spires were made of obsidian and white bone, and its walls were etched with silver runes that pulsed with a rhythmic, heartbeat-like cadence.

The sheer aura radiating from the structure was suffocating; it was a power that sat far beyond her comprehension, a density of Law that made her feel like a child staring at a sun.

"Is there... another trial?" Mu’er wondered aloud, her voice barely a whisper in the immense quiet of the plains.

She had already survived the harrowing dissection of her heart in the third trial, and in the aftermath of that spiritual baptism, the manifestation of the Heaven Piercing Saint had bestowed upon her a legendary Heaven Rank Cultivation Technique—the Lunar Shadow Eclipse—and a Saint Grade Artifact, a jade flute that could shatter the souls of those who heard its song.

By all traditional standards of secret realms, she had already claimed the "grand prize."

So to find herself in yet another layer of the Saint’s pocket dimension suggested a depth of heritage she had not anticipated.

As she stood there, another figure emerged from the shimmering air nearby.

The moment she appeared, the temperature in the immediate vicinity plummeted, and frost began to bloom across the vibrant green grass.

It was Xue Bing’er, the Sect Master of the Ice God Palace.

She stepped forward, her light blue hair swaying in a wind that only she could feel.

Xue Bing’er’s silver eyes immediately locked onto Shangguan Mu’er.

Despite her own status as a regional overlord, she recognized the sheer disparity in their foundations and statsu.

So she immediately composed herself, cupping her hands and bowing with the rigid etiquette of the North.

"Greetings, your majesty," Xue Bing’er stated.

Her voice was steady, though her heart hammered against her ribs. To her, Shangguan Mu’er was not a rival like that old man, but a symbol of the unattainable peak that she doesn’t think she can climb.

Shangguan Mu’er did not offer a verbal reply, instead, she simply gave a curt nod, her gaze observing Xue Bing’er for a moment before returning to the floating gothic fortress.

Her intuition told her that the structure above was the true heart of this world—the place where the "Saint" kept his final secrets.

A moment later, a ripple in space announced the arrival of another person.

It was Ling Luochen.

As she stepped onto the grass, her aura flared uncontrollably for a second, and the tribal tattoo on her back pulsed with a deep, violet light, and the spiritual resonance she emitted was sharp and refined.

It seems she had not only passed the trials but had used the pressure to shatter her bottlenecks, breaking through to the first stage of the Core Formation realm.

Xue Bing’er watched the younger girl, her silver eyes widening in genuine shock.

’This woman’s talent...’ she thought, a cold chill running down her spine. ’Is this not as outrageous as the legends regarding Shangguan Mu’er? To reach the Core Formation stage at such a young age, with a foundation that feels as heavy as a mountain... the Conferred Pagoda is truly a den of monsters.’

Then, the space at the center of the trio warped violently as Shen Haoran stepped out, his presence instantly overshadowing the three women.

Everyone’s eyes immediately locked unto him, and in that instant, they all felt the power of a Nascent Soul Cultivator flickering out of him for just a moment before it was immediately suppressed by him.

Xue Bing’er’s breath hitched in her throat, her silver eyes darted to Haoran, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

’Nascent Soul?! He broke through? During the trials?!’ The realization was like a physical blow to her pride. After all, just earlier, before this trial even started, he had been at the Golden Core realm, the same level as hers.

’Just who... just what is this guy?’

"Congratulations, young master," Shangguan Mu’er and Ling Luochen said in unison, bowing their heads in a display of absolute, unwavering subservience that further bewildered the Ice God Sect Master.

However, Haoran did not acknowledge their praise as he was entirely preoccupied, his golden eyes fixed upward with a chilling, analytical intensity.

He stared at the gothic fortress hanging in the sky, his hands clenched at his sides.

’That is.... An Imperial Artifact!?’ Haoran thought. ’That Saint... that rogue actually managed to possess an Imperial Grade Artifact!?’

In the Prime Origin Realm, such items were the stuff of myths. Even in the Imperial Capital, where countless powers who once produced a Supreme lay low, those powers who possessed an Imperial Artifact can only be counted with one hand.

Even the lowest-level Imperial Artifacts were considered more precious than the life of a genuine Supreme Emperor.

There was a fundamental reason for this: biology was fleeting, but the Dao, when forged into metal, was eternal.

A Supreme Emperor, despite their god-like power, was still a creature of flesh and blood, possessing an average lifespan of only fifteen thousand years, and using some methods, they extend it to twenty thousand or even twenty-five thousand years, but at the end, they will all perish.

And when their time came, they would turn to dust like any other mortal.

But an Imperial Artifact? It will exist indefinitely.

It was a sentient, indestructible monument to a Supreme’s power, capable of protecting a clan for millions of years.

Crucially, these weapons were often soul-locked, usable only by those who carried the direct bloodline of their creator.

What makes these artifacts so special, unlike Saint Grade or other lower rank artifacts, which were merely forged from high-tier minerals, is that an Imperial Artifact was an extension of the Supreme’s very self.

You see when a cultivator reaches the Profound Saint realm, they begin to form their "Natal Artifact"—a weapon or tool created from their own Dao and soul-marrow.

This artifact grows with them, evolving as they ascend the ranks, and eventually becoming a Supreme Natal Artifact once they reached the Supreme Emperor realm.

And to transform these Natal Artifact into an Imperial Artifact, a Supreme must undergo a ritual of absolute sacrifice.

An Artificer of the highest order must literally rip the Natal Artifact from the Supreme’s very kwn soul, using their blood, flesh, and their very comprehension of the laws as the fuel for the furnace.

The process was so traumatic that it would invariably cripple the Supreme, stripping them of their invincibility and their power.

This was why Imperial Artifacts were almost always "Death-Gifts."

A Supreme Emperor, knowing their end was near, would use their final decade of life to oversee the forging of their weapon, ensuring their descendants would have a guardian long after they were gone.

Even for a powerhouse like the Shen Clan, the success rate of such a forging was a mere one percent, requiring dozens of the universe’s highest-ranked Artificers working in perfect harmony. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

To see one here—in a "trash" lower realm, held by a man the Shen Clan had once considered a mere "rebellious dog"—was a revelation that changed everything.

No wonder his ancestors were hellbent on chasing after the guy. It wasn’t just because he refused their offer, but also because he possessed such weapon.

In fact, thinking about it, perhaps it was this very own Imperial Artifact that allowed this Saint to kill a supreme.

If that was the case, then they really wronged their ancestor. Even now, his statue was getting slapped and stepped on because everyone believed he was useless.

Just then, the majestic, echoing voice of the Heaven Piercing Saint resounded across the plains, though it sounded thinner now, as if the spirit were finally beginning to dissipate into the void.

"Congratulations to all of you who have passed my trials. You have faced the darkness of the forest and the mirrors of your own hearts. You have received what you came here for—the techniques and tools to forge your own destinies. The door to the outside world is behind you. This realm has fulfilled its purpose and will begin to collapse shortly. Leave while you still have the breath to do so."

The four of them turned around.

There, in the middle of the green plain, a massive gateway had manifested.

It glowed with a shimmering, kaleidoscopic light, the spatial energy within it humming with the frequency of the Northern Continent’s exit.

Xue Bing’er was the first to move, her mission for the Ice God Palace complete. She obtained such a powerful cultivation technique and various resources, which would surely elevate their sect to a higher level.

Dominating the Northern Continent is just around the corner.

She offered one last look at Haoran—a look filled with a strange, lingering complexity—before stepping into the light.

Ling Luochen looked at Haoran, seeing his hesitation, and then at Shangguan Mu’er.

"Young Master... the Saint is right. The spatial anchors are failing," Shangguan Mu’er warned softly, sensing the ground beneath them beginning to lose its solidity.

Mu’er and Luochen moved toward the gate, but they stopped when they realized Haoran had not moved an inch.

He remained standing in the grass, his robes fluttering in the increasingly violent winds of the realm’s decay.

He stared at the floating gothic fortress, his golden eyes narrowing.

He knew, without a shadow of doubt, that within those dark walls, hidden from the sight of the other participants, Jiang Chen was currently submerged in the core of the Saint’s legacy.

He was likely receiving the blood, the memories, and the fraction of absolute power of the Heaven Piercing Saint—and perhaps, he was being granted control over the Imperial Artifact itself.

"Go," Haoran commanded, his voice cold and absolute. "Exit the gate and wait with Qing’er. I have a debt to settle that cannot be paid in the outside world."

Shangguan Mu’er and Ling Luochen shared a look of concern, but they knew better than to disobey.

They stepped into the kaleidoscopic light, their figures dissolving into white motes.

Shen Haoran was left alone on the emerald plain. Above him, the gothic fortress let out a low, resonant hum, as if the Imperial Artifact was awakening to the presence of a Shen.

"You must be happy, feeling proud of yourself, don’t you, ’Father’?" Haoran whispered, "But don’t be happy yet. In this collapsing world, there is no heaven left to save you."