Stop it, Taoist, Your Fight almost Ruins the DAO!

The earth plunges into despair for countless ages, flames of war roaring, blood flowing everywhere.

Sorrowfully recounting bygone events, who among the same kin will avenge the grievances?

Madness, repression.

The sky unleashes torrential red rain, pouring heavily onto the land, corroding its surface to form countless tiny pits.

Disturbed by the erosion of the red rain, countless living beings scramble into pre-dug burrows below the ground, as though fleeing from calamity. Their hearts flutter anxiously, praying that this red rain doesn't last too long, lest the shelters they dug collapse under the strain.

Looking upward, high in the sky, a Nine Layer Heavens Tower looms, surveying everything below. Beneath the tower, tens of thousands of miles away, drift three colossal floating islands.

Of course, these floating islands numbered only two tens of thousands of years ago.

At this moment, upon one of the floating islands, a figure of the Taoist Xiong Kui gazes indifferently at the endless red rain pouring down from the Nine Layer Heavens Tower. His expression is profound, his thoughts unfathomable.

As moments drag by, the unsettling sound of structures collapsing pierces the night, accompanied by the agonized screams of countless humans.

Although the scenes on the ground are far from the floating island, with his formidable cultivation, the Taoist can observe every shift below as clearly as lines in his palm.

After some time, the Taoist lowers his gaze before abruptly lifting his head. Just as he prepares to take action, a monk and a scholar gracefully arrive.

"Yi Chunyang, do you intend to confront that Heavenly God within the Heavenly Tower?"

"Return instead. We are no match for that divine being right now. If we are to challenge that towering existence, we still need thorough planning."

The Dragon Realm was once an endless expanse, its people revered the heavens, the earth, and their parents—but never the gods.

However, tens of thousands of years ago, a Foreign Region Evil God descended with the Heavenly Tower, beginning to harvest lives from the Dragon Realm.

Every so often, the Heavenly Tower unleashes various natural disasters, with today's red rain being one of the most common.

Under these relentless disasters, countless beings from the Dragon Realm perish, their souls captured by the Heavenly Tower above the Nine Layer Heavens, their fate unknown.

Only great cultivators, using their cultivation to sustain floating islands, can obtain a measure of peace, free from storms and corruption.

Yet should any cultivator dare surpass the height of the Nine Layer Heavens Tower, they would face a lightning strike from the tower's master!

"Spirit Buddha, Saint Scholar, every time you claim we must plan carefully—wasn't the last time you said this three thousand years ago?"

"And what happened? Three thousand years, then another three thousand years. Nine thousand years have passed now. Every time I summon you both to launch a move against the tower, you always say we're unprepared."

"This time, I have grown weary."

"I am willing to venture alone. If my mission succeeds, then so be it. Should it fail, consider me paving the way for the ones who come after, offering a precedent."

"Too much time has passed. If action is delayed any longer, the Dragon Realm might lose its chance forever."

On the floating island, birds chirp and flowers bloom—a stark contrast to the scenes on the ground. The Taoist gazes at his uninvited old friends, refusing them at the door this time.

"Yi Chunyang, I have mastered the Divination Skill. The prophecy reveals that the destined time hasn't yet arrived. I merely wish to prevent your death in vain. As long as you remain here, this floating island can protect tens of thousands of beings. Why not take things slowly?"

Spirit Buddha furrows his brows, yet cannot help but plead once more.

"Indeed, Yi Chunyang. Spirit Buddha means well. I too implore you to be cautious."

"Ancient cultivators once acted as you now wish to. What was the result? A heavy toll of death and destruction, silence engulfing the world, while the tower remains ever so high above. Now, after tens of thousands of years of rebuilding, we finally have strong enough cultivators to sustain three floating islands. Since we've waited so long already, why not continue to wait?"

An elderly scholar in robes begins his earnest persuasion.

"Taking things slowly? Without the self-sacrifice of ancient cultivators, Spirit Buddha, Saint Scholar, do you truly believe that the Heavenly Tower's master would have refrained from showing himself for tens of thousands of years, choosing instead to remain in life-and-death seclusion within that tower?"

"What we have today is entirely owed to those who came before. If you fear, then by all means, return."

The Taoist retorts firmly.

"But my divinations cannot be wrong—the destined time hasn't arrived...."

Spirit Buddha attempts once more, but the Taoist interrupts him fiercely.

"The future is uncertain precisely because it hasn't unfolded. Matters undecided—why, even heaven struggles to calculate them."

"Moreover, you have arrived too late. I have cultivated for many years, yet my path grows dim. If I don't seize this moment while my life span still permits, and wager everything, what future will remain for me? What future will remain for the Dragon Realm? And for you, fattened pigs, there will certainly be no future."

"Neither future nor destiny is borne of waiting—it is forged through slaughter!"

Spirit Buddha: "....."

Saint Scholar: "....."

Taoist: "....."

After several rounds of debate, the Taoist finally loses patience.

"Bah! Curse your damned mothers! If you don't leave now, I'll go mad and strike you both down just the same, damn it!"

"!@#￥%"

Having reached an impasse, Spirit Buddha and Saint Scholar leave reluctantly, their sleeves flicking in regret.

The Taoist leaps off the floating island adorned with birdsong and floral scents, embracing the murky turmoil of the lower realms.

....

....

That day, over the boundless Dragon Realm, a sudden great sun rises, and within that sun, a lone figure comes into view.

For reasons unknown, the Taoist did not ascend from the floating island, but instead rose from the ground!