The voice of the Heavenly Dao Artifact boomed across the worlds. Su Yan frowned. Its tone sounded less like divine judgment and more like a petty bureaucrat making threats.
"If I were the Heavenly Dao," he thought, "why would I demand the return of spirit roots? I would simply create new ones."
The revelation struck him. What if the artifact was not the will of heaven at all? What if a living person controlled it, speaking through its mouth?
A person had desires, fears, and ambitions. The Heavenly Dao did not. The way of heaven was constant — it did not exist for Yao, nor perish for Jie.
Su Yan's spirit sense brushed against the artifact's resonance. It immediately traced back along his connection. He severed his Heaven-Man Resonance in an instant, shielding his origin. Hundreds of other spirit senses were probing the same source. He was not alone in his suspicion.
Then, spirit roots began flying back from across the myriad worlds, obeying the artifact's call. Some forces refused, keeping their roots hidden. Su Yan watched, his heart racing. If the road to ascension could truly be rebuilt, even a false Heavenly Dao might serve a true purpose.
The Taiyi Minor Xuantian spirit root revealed its true form — a vine of pure light, twin strands twining in a double helix. When shattered, this Yin-Yang Vine had scattered across the worlds as countless spirit grasses.
Su Yan reached out with his spirit sense again, seeking Primal Dao Essence. He tagged a returning root with his consciousness and tracked it. The essence flowed through the vine, down into the immortal palace, and vanished into a mural on a palace wall.
He sprang to his feet.
"Bell! Qi! We've got a score to settle!"
The great bell was still trembling. Yuan Qi had curled into a ball inside Su Yan's collar, his mane fluttering like a dancer's fan. Su Yan's own legs shook. None of them were brave — but they were all greedy.
* * *
The dragon-headed god had not finished its work. It swept through another world, annihilating billions for a single spirit root. Su Yan clenched his fists. Under the gaze of the so-called Heavenly Dao, all life was dust.
He had his marker now. The only question was whether they could reach the mural before the world ended around them.