SSS-Rank 10x Reward System: Accepting Disciples to Live Forever Chapter 105: Doom clock evolving?

Wang Chen was certain of one thing.

Li i was not rely stabilizing herself at the Foundation Establishnt Realm—she was rushing through it.

With her understanding of the world, her heaven-defying comprehension, and the vast accumulation from her previous life, it was only a matter of ti before she reached the peak of Foundation Building... and overtook him.

For so masters, that would have been a source of pride.

For Wang Chen, it was unacceptable.

"Hmmm," he muttered softly, his eyes darkening. "My disciple could never be stronger than ... I won’t let that happen. Ever."

And Li i wasn’t the only problem.

Lin Huang’s growth was even more alarming in its own way. Ever since Li i’s breakthrough, it was as if sothing inside him had been ignited. He wasted no ti on idle thoughts or aningless distractions. When he wasn’t guiding Zhao Yunfei, he was either circulating qi to temper his body or pushing himself to exhaustion through relentless training.

There was no slack. No hesitation.

Wang Chen could tell—very clearly—that Lin Huang’s breakthrough to the Foundation Building Realm was no longer a question of if, but when.

And that "when" was approaching fast.

Both of his disciples were monsters.

True, undeniable monsters.

If Wang Chen allowed himself even a mont of complacency, he would be left behind without rcy.

That thought alone was enough to make his scalp tighten.

From that mont on, Wang Chen shut himself off completely. He paid no attention to what his disciples were doing, nor did he concern himself with the minor disturbances rippling through the city.

That did not an he was ignorant.

On the contrary, he could feel it clearly—the demonic presence in the surroundings had multiplied severalfold, thickening with each passing day. Beneath that, an even heavier aura stirred deep within the city, vast and restrained, like a sleeping beast.

A big shot had arrived.

Most likely soone summoned by the noble families to protect their own necks.

Wang Chen didn’t care.

Right now, none of that mattered.

What mattered was simple.

If he didn’t move forward—quickly—his own disciples would leave him in the dust.

And that was sothing he absolutely refused to allow.

Wang Chen took a deep breath and slowly settled into a cross-legged position. As he did, the turbulent qi within his ridians gradually cald, flowing in smooth, asured cycles that mirrored the steadying of his mind.

A crystalline white circle quietly ford beneath him.

At first, it was no larger than a halo of light, but in the span of a few breaths, it expanded outward, spreading across the entire ditation chamber. The mont it completed its expansion, the world outside was severed. Sound vanished. Air ceased to stir. Even the faint spiritual fluctuations that naturally perated the dojo were cut off entirely.

This was absolute concealnt.

Wang Chen’s aura dissolved into nothingness. It did not fade or weaken—it simply ceased to exist. Even if soone were to stand directly before him at this mont, their eyes would slide past him unconsciously, unable to grasp his presence.

Only then did Wang Chen relax.

This was the perfect state for cultivation. No disturbances. No interference. No unexpected variables.

Once more, he turned his awareness inward.

His consciousness descended into the Garden of Eternity.

This ti, he did not spare even a glance for the Heaven Rending Dynasty, nor did he observe the beasts or the remnants of humanity’s struggles. His intent was firm, his focus razor-sharp. Yet even so, his gaze drifted unconsciously toward the very edge of the world.

There, drifting silently in the endless expanse, was a lone soul.

Compared to when he had last seen Ni Luo’s spirit, it now appeared thinner, dimr—its form eroded by ti and solitude. Though the change was subtle, Wang Chen could sense it clearly. Without reincarnation, without anchoring laws, even a soul as resilient as Ni Luo’s could not remain unchanged forever.

Wang Chen paused for only a mont.

Then he shook his head.

Now was not the ti.

Even if he wanted to help, he lacked the ans to do so. Lingering on it would only waste precious ti—and ti was sothing he could no longer afford.

The hesitation vanished.

The mont his resolve hardened, Wang Chen’s eyes sharpened.

As if responding to his will, the void above the Garden of Eternity trembled. One by one, imnse chains woven from pure law began to descend, their forms vast and indistinct, radiating a divine, starlike glow. They did not fall violently; instead, they erged with solemn inevitability, anchoring themselves deep into the fabric of the world.

The instant they appeared, the Garden of Eternity changed.

Every living being felt it.

Mortals froze in place, hearts pounding for reasons they could not understand. Beasts lifted their heads instinctively. Cultivators—no matter how weak or strong—were struck by a sudden clarity, their minds entering an uncontrollable state of epiphany.

Those fortunate enough to be near the descending chains were overwheld.

Their thoughts sharpened. Bottlenecks loosened. Understanding surged like a tide breaking through a dam.

For that brief mont, talent no longer mattered.

Under the illumination of the Chains of Enlightennt, all beings stood equal before the Dao.

Ni Luo’s son, now already standing with one foot half-step into the coffin, stared upward in a daze as the colossal chains tore through the clouds like descending divine dragons.

His aged pupils trembled.

"So... it was true," he murmured softly, relief seeping into his voice.

He rembered it clearly—his father ntioning sothing like this once, long ago, in an almost casual tone. Back then, Ni Yong had dismissed it entirely, believing it to be nothing more than a story his father fabricated so others would attribute his achievents to fortune rather than relentless toil.

After all, Ni Luo’s talent had been terrifying.

Too terrifying.

So overwhelming that it left no room for explanation.

But now... now it made sense.

If there truly had been divine intervention, if the heavens themselves had once cast their gaze upon his father, then everything aligned. His impossible rise. His boundless comprehension. His defiance of extinction itself.

Ni Yong clenched his trembling hands.

In this new era—an era of Foundation Building, of condensed dantian and structured cultivation—he had long been left behind. Overshadowed. Surpassed by younger generations who advanced with terrifying speed. He could no longer walk the sa path his father once dominated.

For years, doubt had gnawed at him.

At his bloodline.

At his worth.

At tis, he had even wondered—was he truly Ni Luo’s son?

How could he be so diocre compared to such a monstrous existence?

But as those chains descended from the heavens, luminous and absolute, all those doubts were washed away like dust beneath a tidal wave.

It was not that he was untalented.

He simply was not chosen.

...

Wang Chen, naturally, was completely unaware of the storm his actions had unleashed within the Garden of Eternity.

And even if he had known, he would not have cared.

Before him, the void itself shuddered.

Everything he had ever comprehended—every insight he had carved into existence—rose and converged within that trembling space. The Three Turn Sword Slash. His understanding of the Sword Dao. The Doomclock. Chronoblade. Laws of ti, steel, inevitability, and severance folded together like molten runes within a cosmic furnace.

From that convergence, massive Chains of Enlightennt were forged.

As they descended, the world below erupted into chaos.

Warriors collapsed to their knees as visions assaulted their minds. Cultivators scread or laughed hysterically, caught between terror and revelation. For a fleeting instant, an enormous ancient clock phantom unfolded across the heavens, its rusted hands grinding inexorably forward.

Those who dared to et its gaze felt life torn from their bodies.

So aged decades in monts.

So perished outright.

Yet fate was not entirely cruel.

Among the survivors, a handful of children felt sothing awaken deep within their souls—a faint but undeniable affinity toward ti itself. Elsewhere, sword cultivators trembled as instinctive understanding etched itself into their bones.

In the years to co, several extraordinary sword masters would erge.

But at this mont, none of that mattered.

The Chains of Enlightennt continued to descend, indifferent to screams or miracles alike, anchoring themselves into the fabric of the Garden of Eternity—silent witnesses to the birth of an era that would never again be ordinary.

..

Outside the Garden of Eternity, the Crystal of Enlightennt slowly dissolved.

Its radiant surface cracked apart into countless motes of pale light, lting away as if it had never truly existed. The mont it did, those particles surged inward, flooding Wang Chen’s body and spiritual space alike.

His depleted spiritual energy recovered at a terrifying speed.

Before exhaustion could even take root, it was already gone—washed away as if it had never existed. His ridians humd, his spiritual sea stabilized, and the faint strain tearing at his soul vanished completely.

Wang Chen let out a slow breath, his mind clearing.

Whether he noticed it imdiately or not, a familiar chanical chi echoed within his consciousness.

[Ding!]

[Your understanding of Doomclock has begun to improve.]

[Doomclock undergoing evolution...]

Wang Chen’s pupils shrank.

"What?"

The flow of ti around him seed to slow—no, not slow. It felt as if sothing deeper had been disturbed.

The system’s voice rang out once more, heavy and absolute.

[Ding!]

[Doomclock has evolved into a Transcendental-grade skill: Final Hour.]

[Click to view effects.]

Wang Chen froze.

A Transcendental-grade skill.

Even among divine abilities, that word carried weight. His heartbeat quickened—not with fear, but with a sharp, restrained anticipation.