The space around Lan Xiaobu had long expanded to a thousand miles. After successfully enlightening the Dao of Rules, this thousand-mile radius was entirely woven from the rules derived from his Longevity Dao.
Within this domain, Lan Xiaobu suspected he could hold his own even against an Eternal Sage. Unfortunately, in a real duel, no opponent would give him the time to fully condense his Longevity Rule Space.
Gazing at the distant chaos still looming, Lan Xiaobu decided to re-enter the chaotic, ruleless zone. His first venture there had perfected his dao, boosting his strength exponentially. This time, he aimed to enlighten the Dao of No-Rules.
He had a vague sense that this enlightenment was crucial—possibly the key to transcending his current level.
Having entered the chaotic, ruleless zone once before, Lan Xiaobu wasn’t overly worried this time. Though he’d lost the Emperor Rest Tree, his dao was now complete. As long as his Longevity Dao foundation held, even deep in the ruleless chaos, he wouldn’t be crushed.
Stepping into the chaos, the formless pressure bore down. Lan Xiaobu’s will instantly triggered the Longevity Technique. He knew that if the chaos dulled his consciousness, running the technique would become impossible.
But something that should’ve been effortless felt sluggish. The Longevity Technique completed only half a cycle before stalling in his dantian, unable to finish a full revolution.
Panic gripped him. Without the technique, he couldn’t construct his Longevity Rule Space. Without that space, he was doomed.
Yet, in that moment, he could do nothing. If this continued, he’d vanish into the chaos entirely.
Now he understood—his first survival in the chaos, perfecting his dao and carving out a thousand-mile rule space, was thanks to the Emperor Rest Tree. It had carried him through the toughest stretch, enabling that first full cycle.
The tree had sacrificed itself for him. Now, he had no right to linger here.
His consciousness frantically pushed the Longevity Technique to complete a cycle, but it kept halting at his dantian.
As time slipped by, his awareness began to blur.
*This can’t go on. If it does, I’ll lose consciousness and perish here.*
What was blocking his technique from cycling through his dantian?
Sadly, beyond his fading awareness, he couldn’t even extend his divine sense. He knew something was wrong but couldn’t fix it.
The chaotic, ruleless aura began assimilating everything—his dao, his body. Gaps appeared in his consciousness as it fragmented under the chaos.
A fierce will to live drove him to mentally reach for the Primordial Eternal Flame in his sea of consciousness. Only fire could help now. He urged it to surge forth and burn away whatever blocked his technique.
To his relief, despite the ruleless chaos, his body still rested on the Longevity Dao foundation. The flame roared to his dantian, unleashing a ferocious blaze.
*Boom!* Even though it was his own flame, Lan Xiaobu couldn’t hold back a silent, anguished scream. In truth, it was just a sensation—he neither opened his mouth nor showed any expression. In the chaos, he couldn’t scream aloud.
With immense willpower, he forced himself to stay lucid. To his horror, he saw the Primordial Eternal Flame ensnared by a strand of chaotic aura, slowly disintegrating—or perhaps being refined by the ruleless void.
Despair welled within him. He’d survived the chaos once, perfected his dao, only to fall now while enlightening No-Rules.
Perhaps sensing his hopelessness, the Primordial Eternal Flame erupted again. Agonizing pain hit, and sorrow flooded him. He knew the flame was gone—it had gained sentience, yet it self-detonated in his moment of despair.
He wasn’t sure if entering the chaos again was right or wrong. The Fortune Dao Tree was gone, fine—he still had the Longevity Dao Tree. But the Emperor Rest Tree, the Cosmic Dimension Model, and now the Primordial Eternal Flame—all lost. His only gain was a perfected Longevity Dao.
*Crack!* The flame’s explosion tore through some barrier. The Longevity Technique completed its first full cycle.
Though grieving the flame, Lan Xiaobu knew survival came first. To his relief, the technique flowed smoothly thereafter.
After a few cycles, a Longevity Rule Space formed around him. He paused the technique, closed his eyes, and let his divine sense seep into the ruleless chaos, feeling its lack of order. The flame’s loss couldn’t be meaningless.
What were rules? The existence of all things relied on the order they established. In chaos, rules should precede creation.
The ruleless chaos was formless. For form to emerge, rules must first take shape—just as he’d perfected his dao here, carving out a thousand-mile space…
His will merged with the chaos. The deeper his understanding grew, the farther his divine sense reached. Time passed, and a faint, ethereal principle-ring appeared around his Longevity Dao Tree—the sixth.
Moreover, cocoon-like layers of dao began encasing him. Ruleless yet perfect, they enveloped him entirely.
His dao intent drifted with the chaos, gradually grasping No-Rules. Like a fish out of water—water was its rule; without it, the fish faced a ruleless void. Or a human in an oxygen-free space—ruleless to them. Yet, waterless lands and airless voids often had rules, just ones incompatible with fish or human survival…
His dao intent clarified. Lan Xiaobu suddenly realised No-Rules was relative. This chaotic void might be ruleless to cultivators, but to some entities, it could be ordered. He didn’t know—perhaps his perspective was too narrow.
*Boom!* The sixth ring on his dao tree snapped into sharp focus, jolting him awake. He thrust out a hand.
The dao cocoon shattered, and a wheel-like pattern shot forth. Even in this ruleless void, it carved a clear principle-path.
*Incredible.* Lan Xiaobu stared at his hand in awe. He’d enlightened No-Rules. But what stunned him most was this wheel-pattern strike.
In a duel, this move could rip through any opponent’s rule-bound dao. If their dao rules were torn or weakened, victory was all but assured. A technique that shredded an opponent’s dao foundation? Top-tier, no question.
He’d call it the Rule-Rending Wheel—his new divine ability.
With it, he wouldn’t need to pile up spatial law fragments to tear an opponent’s world anymore.
Now, a single Rule-Rending Wheel strike could do it. Facing someone like Jiang Sen today, he could kill and shred their world in one blow, even in a rush.
Finally, a signature move of his own. Lan Xiaobu sighed. Before, he’d relied on Meteor’s spatial fragment trick to rupture worlds—effective but slow, and useless against foes with stronger daos.
Time to leave… but…
He thought of the trapping-killing array at Taixu Tomb Square. He felt he could handle it, but being snared in it upon exit irked him.
Having enlightened No-Rules and grasped the Rule-Rending Wheel, could he use it to tear apart that array?
