The Son of the Desolation grasped the Primordial Divine Halberd, anchoring himself against everything around him, utterly bent on slaying Lu Yuan. His dominance was unparalleled; he shattered the Sword Gate's ultimate defensive formation with a single strike, and even the Saintly Emperor’s Son was felled after not much effort.

It seemed nothing could stop him. He was the Son of the Desolation, the Son of the Epoch.

Heaven’s favorite, the innate master of the gods. In this world, no one had ever dared to claim absolute certainty about breaking through to the Civilization Realm.

The Civilization Realm was an insurmountable barrier. The other six of the Seven Sons of Destiny were not exceptions—neither the Son of Immortality nor the Son of Martial Arts.

Even those astonishing figures possessing eyes or hands attuned to the Civilization Realm dared not guarantee their success in breaking through that threshold. But the Son of the Desolation could.

In this world, the Son of the Desolation was the only one certain to succeed in ascending to the Civilization Realm. Because he was the Son of the Desolation, the Son of the Epoch.

He was born fundamentally different from everyone else. Everyone was certain that his ascension to the Civilization Realm was only a matter of time.

And now, he stood before Lu Yuan—a figure of absolute tyranny. Just as the Son of the Desolation was about to strike, a plume of black smoke suddenly materialized.

It was an utterly insidious smoke, and from within its grasp burst forth a concentrated gleam—a sword light! This sword light shot directly toward the Son of the Desolation.

When it first appeared, few noticed it, but soon it was realized that this was a sword light capable of slicing through galaxies. When had such a figure emerged in the Path of the Sword?

The Son of the Desolation spoke in a deep voice, "You are not of the Path of the Sword, for I am the Desolation and can sense the sword. You do not possess a true Sword Heart.

Who are you? Which one among the Fifty Heavenly Rankings?" The pressure this black-clad figure exerted on him was immense.

Below the Civilization Realm, only those on the Fifty Heavenly Rankings could exert such pressure on him. Among the Fifty Heavenly Rankings, the shortest-reigning masters were at least seventy thousand years old.

Others were far older, stretching into tens of millions of years. A few figures had existed almost since the very beginning of this Epoch.

"Why should you care who I am? Just know that today, you will be defeated by my hands," the black-clad figure stated calmly, as if defeating the Son of the Desolation, the Son of this Epoch, was a rather simple matter for him.

The Son of the Desolation sneered, "You truly have confidence. No matter which of the Fifty Heavenly Rankings you hail from, I fear nothing, for I am the Son of the Desolation, the powerhouse destined for success." The Great Desolation Divine Halberd of the Son of the Desolation clashed with the black-clad figure's sword light.

And at this moment, Lu Yuan was pounding the ground with his fists! Lu Yuan was genuinely exasperated.

This was the greatest setback he had faced since entering the Central Heavenly Dynasty. Previously, no matter what figure he encountered, no matter the opponent, they had only been minor obstacles.

Figures like Zhan Kuangtie had only temporarily suppressed Lu Yuan, who knew he could achieve victory with a slight breakthrough. But now, the sheer power of the Son of the Desolation was terrifying—it was an absolute overwhelming force, striking him down until he was completely unable to retaliate.

Damn it! I must become stronger!

I must strike back! He had felt this sensation before, back at Mount Hua, when he first met Yuan Ling.

But after fighting back and winning, he hadn't felt it again until now—this feeling reappeared with the might of the Son of the Desolation! The sheer dominance of the Son of the Desolation had driven him to a dead end; if not for the sudden appearance of the black-clad man, he would likely be dead now.

Good. Remember this!

He engraved this moment into the deepest part of his heart: the strongest opponent beneath the Civilization Realm, the Son of the Desolation. Sooner or later, I will defeat you, Son of the Desolation, remember that.

The sword cried out softly. Yes, his Nourishing Immortal Sword was also crying out.

This was the first time the Nourishing Immortal Sword had suffered such a massive, nearly cleaving gash. The Nourishing Immortal Sword felt indignation.

Lu Yuan gently caressed the wound on the Nourishing Immortal Sword; the gash was so enormous it had nearly split the sword in two. "Nourishing, Nourishing, I know you are angry.

I am angry too, at this moment. I will avenge this humiliation.

Give me five years; within five years, I swear to avenge this broken sword." When he had agreed to a duel with the Son of the Sword, the term was eight years. Now, Lu Yuan set a term for himself: five years—within five years, he must repay the debt of this broken sword, the debt of this near-fatal injury.

"This time, the sword shall break, and the man shall die." Lu Yuan’s eyes blazed with an extreme fighting spirit. "A broken sword will be repaired stronger; a man who has nearly died will cultivate even stronger.

I will not lose." "This will be the last major defeat of my life. I never want to endure such a crushing defeat again," Lu Yuan told himself.

Yes, he had lost too disastrously this time; he never wanted to taste failure again! The pain of defeat—experiencing it once was absolutely enough.

Who would ever wish to taste it a second time? Meanwhile, amidst the fighting, the mysterious black-clad figure who had suddenly appeared had already gained the upper hand.

The Son of the Desolation roared, "Good! No matter which of the Fifty Heavenly Rankings you belong to, the next time we meet will be your death day." The Son of the Desolation naturally knew his current strength was far inferior to this mysterious man’s, but he believed he could slay this person upon their next encounter because he was the Son of the Desolation, the foremost son of Destiny, the Son of the Epoch; becoming stronger before their next meeting would be incredibly easy, wouldn't it?

The Son of the Desolation roared, retracted his Primordial Divine Halberd, and vanished without a trace. The mysterious black-clad figure smiled slightly.

"Very well, Saintly Emperor’s Son, members of the Sword Gate, I am taking Lu Yuan away for a period. Rest assured, I mean him no harm." With that, his spiritual power swept out, and in the next instant, the black-clad figure and Lu Yuan were gone from the Sword Gate.

After the spatial transfer, Lu Yuan found himself lying on a patch of lush green grass. This seemed to be an uninhabited planet; the air was exceedingly fresh, and there were numerous powerful demonic beasts, yet even beasts several zhang tall dared not approach.

The aura of the mysterious black-clad figure was too terrifying. This figure hadn't actively released his power, but his inherent strength alone was that awe-inspiring.

Lu Yuan spat out a mouthful of blood. "Who are you?

One of the figures from the Fifty Heavenly Rankings?" The mysterious black-clad figure chuckled. "That the Son of the Desolation couldn't discern my true form and assumed I was among the Fifty Heavenly Rankings—well, if the Son of the Desolation could recognize me, that would truly be bizarre; I wouldn't be able to operate in this world." The black-clad figure removed the mask from his face, revealing his features.

This! Lu Yuan couldn't help but startle.

Truthfully, no matter which known person was beneath the mask, Lu Yuan wouldn't have been overly shocked. But the countenance beneath the mask was overwhelmingly righteous.

He looked like a natural gentleman, possessing the air of a great Confucian scholar. His face embodied the very essence, the profound meaning of Confucianism.

He seemed like the embodiment of innate, invincible righteousness—a paragon among gentlemen, the quintessential Confucian. Lu Yuan simply could not fathom that such a person would disguise himself as a black-clad man, an appearance somewhat incompatible with his inherent rectitude.

"Even a gentleman cannot be constrained by mere methods," the great Confucian said. "As for my identity, I shall tell you: I am the Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization..." What!

The Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization! Lu Yuan was genuinely shaken, never expecting this man to be the Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization.

The Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization was no ordinary Vice-Lord; he was a Vice-Lord whose cultivation was exceedingly profound, and he was also the ruler of the Confucian Civilization. Wait, a memory surfaced.

When he had left the Elemental Tower to confront the Son of the Sword, midway he had encountered Ling Qingyun and his son. The treacherous pair tried to kill him, but Lu Yuan escaped into the Ancient Desolate Forbidden Ground, encountered the Ancient Desolate Beast, and in turn, boosted his cultivation by one tier, eventually counter-killing the Ling father and son—that much was correct.

From the fragmented words of Ling Qingyun and his son, he knew that the Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization had apparently challenged the Vice-Lord of the Demon Civilization, failed, and returned severely wounded, near death. At that time, the Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization had even seemed inclined to pass on his inheritance to him, which was why the Ling father and son wanted to kill him.

He never imagined he would meet the Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization now. The Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization spoke, "My time is also running short, so I wished to find an inheritor.

After surveying the entire Central Heavenly Dynasty, while there are indeed countless talents, those possessing true righteousness in their hearts are lamentably few. The one who truly matches my aspirations is only you.

I have been observing you secretly for a long time, including when you entered the Evil Sword Civilization in the Lost Land—I followed you there. Oh, and when you were in the Lost Land, there were two other figures close to the Civilization Realm secretly protecting you: one with white-robed sword qi, and another with gray-robed sorrowful sword qi." Hearing this, Lu Yuan immediately understood.

Such figures could only be Yan Cangtian and Zhou Qingxuan. He hadn't realized these two were secretly guarding him when he went to the Evil Sword Civilization.

"Your swordsmanship is excellent, and your character is also very good," the Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization said. "Therefore, I finally decided to let you try to accept my inheritance, and when the arrogant and insolent junior, the Son of the Desolation, moved to kill you, I intervened." "Of course, accepting my inheritance is not easy; it requires passing through my numerous trials." "Now, here is the first piece of my inheritance for you." The Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization raised his hand, and a faintly glowing character appeared in the void.

"Gambling!" (Du) The first thing the Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization gave Lu Yuan was actually the word "Gambling." "This character is the avatar of Gambling, and it is a three-tenths avatar, not ordinary," the Vice-Lord of the Confucian Civilization explained. "This is the first test I bestow upon you.

Now that you have obtained this 'Gambling' avatar, what will you do?"