The darkness deepened incrementally, swallowing him bit by bit, slow as molasses, gradually settling him into a new element, thicker than air, as if time itself had been semi-frozen. Within this swath of night, an almost ethereal figure drifted silently toward the colossal tower at the very heart of the Lingxiao Treasure Hall.

Though masters gathered here in great numbers, this approaching figure seemed shrouded in some unknown, mysterious force that allowed him to melt seamlessly into the encompassing darkness; along his approach, not a single soul detected his presence. The towering structure boasted exactly twelve entrances, with four disciples stationed on duty at each threshold.

Although these disciples had not reached the pinnacle of the Xiantian or Houtian realms in their martial cultivation, their skill levels were remarkably high and their team compositions exceptionally balanced. One disciple was at the ninth layer of Neijin, accompanied by three others at the eighth layer of Neijin.

To deploy Houtian cultivators of this caliber for night watch duty—and to maintain this standard across all twelve entrances—was utterly inconceivable within the Tianluo Kingdom. This fact alone highlighted the insurmountable chasm in power between them and the figure approaching.

The shadow converged until the countenance of He Yiming was revealed just outside the base of the tower. He tilted his head back to gaze upon the spire, his eyes flashing with sharp light.

Though a tremor of apprehension still lingered, having made his decision, he would see it through to the end. Taking a deep, slow breath, his body began to contract without a sound—simply shrinking, segment by segment.

The Bone Shrinkage Art, a Neijin technique he had perfected to its absolute limit during the Houtian era, now found an application so miraculous it defied belief. His attire, clearly specially made, clung perfectly to his frame even as he diminished in size, suggesting the fabric possessed extraordinary elasticity.

This very garment was the Red Wolf King's hide armor taken from Suoge; after slaying him, He Yiming had mended and stored it in the silver ring's space, only to retrieve it for this night. As his stature shrank, He Yiming’s features contorted.

Though the change was subtle, it rendered him utterly unrecognizable compared to his original appearance. No one beholding him now could possibly connect the two faces.

Yet, this was not the end. He Yiming produced a black kerchief and used it to obscure his face entirely.

With these preliminary measures complete, He Yiming was convinced that if anyone could still recognize him, they must surely be a ghost walking the earth. He gently placed his palm flat against the stone wall of the tower, sensing the chill emanating from within the structure.

The power of Earth began to circulate within his body, connecting him to the tower via the Earth Force. He Yiming even experienced the uncanny sensation that he was the tower itself.

He had never intended to use any of the established entrances. To possess the technique of Earth Burrowing and forgo its use would be sheer idiocy.

However, a moment later, He Yiming’s expression faltered slightly. To his utter astonishment, he found himself unable to activate the Earth Burrowing technique.

This towering structure seemed imbued with a mystical power, one possessing intense repulsive qualities. While sensing this power, He Yiming felt no antagonism, but the instant he attempted to penetrate it, the force reacted violently.

He Yiming immediately withdrew his True Qi, daring not to move rashly again. He could clearly perceive that the tower functioned as a single, unified entity, and that repulsive force permeated every corner of its structure.

His initial intrusion was minor, thus the counter-force was subtle. But he had an undeniable feeling: if he tried to force his way through recklessly, he would surely provoke the massive power latent within the entire edifice.

At that point, regardless of whether he could withstand the ensuing backlash, it would certainly alert the venerable masters residing within the tower. Should those figures sense an anomaly, He Yiming held no illusion that escape would be guaranteed.

His brow furrowed tightly; this unexpected obstacle had completely derailed his meticulous planning. His gaze drifted towards one of the entrances, where the guards remained completely oblivious that someone was daring to infiltrate the tower right under their noses.

He Yiming’s mind raced. If the sole objective was simple infiltration, it posed little difficulty for him.

With his current strength, sneaking past these Houtian experts was child's play. But the thought of the room beyond the Martial Repository sent a chill down his spine.

No matter how self-assured he was, he did not believe he could pass through that specific doorway into the Repository without disturbing the mysterious expert guarding it. If he could achieve that feat, he wouldn't need to swear a twenty-year alliance with the Deep Mountain Totem; he would simply storm the place outright.

The area surrounding the tower was not bare ground but was thickly planted with rare flowers, grasses, and trees. Except for the wide avenues leading to the twelve entrances, everything else was concealed by beautiful flora.

This landscaping was the primary reason He Yiming had reached this spot so easily without fear of detection. Peering through the gaps in the vegetation, He Yiming watched his surroundings intently.

His expression shifted rapidly as two conflicting courses of action wrestled within his mind. With the safest route effectively blocked, He Yiming instinctively felt the urge to retreat.

After all, the experts inside were far beyond his current capacity to contend with; failure here carried consequences even he could scarcely afford. Yet, as he looked up once more at the immense tower, a fierce, unyielding conviction suddenly surged within him.

He finally reached his final decision, extending his palm once more, gently pressing it against the tower's stone. This time, He Yiming harbored no intent to burrow.

Instead, he slowly began to channel his Earth True Qi into the stone in a manner akin to communication. As expected, when He Yiming approached without the intention of forceful invasion, the latent power within the tower did not retaliate.

Suppressing the wild joy threatening to erupt, He Yiming gradually diffused his True Qi, thinning it out as much as possible, attempting to communicate with the power inside the structure. In his perception, though the power within the tower was overwhelmingly mighty, it was clearly unmanipulated.

Since it was an ownerless force, He Yiming felt confident he could locate its weakness and exploit it. Slowly, He Yiming’s True Qi, stripped entirely of any aggressive intent, finally made minute contact with the power of the tower.

At that instant, a familiar image manifested in his mind once more. Upon a stretch of level earth, a tiny spire emerged, growing upward like a shoot in spring, slowly attaining its full size.

In this boundless expanse, the tower rose from nothingness, bit by bit, an ascent filled with majesty and imposing grandeur. He Yiming understood that even if this were a miracle, it could never have been achieved in a single day.

The scene playing in his mind was merely a compression of time designed to deliver the deepest possible impact. Though this was not the first time he had experienced such a resonance, He Yiming could not help but feel his heart surge with emotion.

If only one day, he too could manifest such a miracle. But the thought was fleeting; he knew perfectly well that his current attainment made such a realm impossible.

During the first encounter with this vision, He Yiming’s excessive excitement had forced him to break contact prematurely. Now, however, his resolve was as unyielding as a boulder, seemingly unaffected by the magnificent, epoch-spanning display.

His eyes closed slightly, dedicating his entire being to the experience, absorbing the sensations this power offered him. Time seemed to stretch into an age-long expanse, or perhaps pass in the blink of an eye.

He came to understand countless things. He felt he understood this tower profoundly, perhaps more intimately than the experts who had resided within its shadow day after day for half a year.

It was purely a sensation, yet it felt intensely absolute. His True Qi was gradually merging with the power within the tower—not through aggression, but through mutual attraction.

In He Yiming’s palm, a subtle Earth Flower began to rotate. Guided by the Earth Flower, He Yiming meticulously adjusted his Earth Force, causing its attributes to align ever more closely with those of the tower’s inherent power.

The Earth Force welling up from his Dantian likewise overlapped with the tower’s energy, as if the two were inherently one. If the masters inside the tower knew of this, their astonishment would leave them speechless.

This tower had been personally extracted from the earth's depths by the founding patriarch of the Lingxiao Treasure Hall; such divine power was beyond comparison by any other force. Furthermore, the patriarch had embedded a strand of his Divine Power within the tower.

It was due to this Divine Power that no one, inside or out, could utilize Earth Burrowing techniques to infiltrate the structure. For within this tower, the Earth Force had been bound by Divine Power.

To employ the burrowing technique, one would need a force superior to the tower's Divine Power, one capable of forcefully shattering it. Yet, Divine Power was Divine Power; while perhaps unremarkable to beings of the Divine Dao, it held unparalleled might for martial cultivators like them.

Even if their lives were forfeit, they would never have believed that in a world where the Divine Dao had vanished, someone could successfully use Earth Burrowing to enter the tower. He Yiming’s half-closed eyes continued to move, oblivious to the passage of external time, his entire focus poured into the communion.

His inner Dantian, once a swirling chaos, was now undergoing the most subtle transformation. A wisp of specialized True Qi slowly drew itself forth from the Dantian—this single strand was utterly distinct.

Finally, this wisp of True Qi entered the tower. Upon encountering the immense latent power, it met no resistance; instead, it merged with it effortlessly.

A satisfied smile touched the corner of He Yiming’s mouth. Then, with a slight shift of his body, he passed into the stone wall.