My Xianxia Harem Life

BOOOOOM!

The hundredth bolt fell like divine punishment, ripping apart the sky, blotting out the sun, and reducing the land beneath to a sea of white.

The light was blinding.

The sound was deafening.

Even cultivators at the peak of the Void Tribulation Realm—powerhouses who had lived for thousands of years—shielded their eyes and dropped to their knees from sheer pressure.

Their spiritual senses were overwhelmed. Their souls trembled.

The world was silenced.

No bird chirped. No wind blew. Even the flowing rivers halted for a breath in time.

For several long, excruciating moments, there was nothing—no sound, no sight, no certainty.

Just the endless, blinding white.

It felt like the world had stopped turning.

Even those watching from the safety of Riley's divine realm—his followers, his wives, the millions he had transported—all held their breath.

They stared at the sky with wide eyes and frozen hearts.

"Did he… survive that?"

"Even someone like Senior Riley couldn't possibly—"

"Shut up! Just wait… wait!"

Then—

A flicker.

Like the first ember in a world of ice.

The blinding white began to fade, slowly at first, like the veil of a storm being lifted.

The clouds that had gathered for days were blown away in an instant, scattered by a breeze no one could feel.

The skies cleared, revealing golden sunlight so pure it looked painted by gods.

And then they saw it.

Him.

Riley still stood where the lightning had struck—alone atop the shattered peak, where not even dust remained of the surrounding cliff.

He was naked, covered in ash and blood.

His skin was torn, bones faintly visible beneath cracked flesh. His hair was scorched black and fluttered faintly in the wind.

And yet—

He stood.

His chest rose and fell with breath.

His eyes were closed, but his body was upright, defiant. His aura, though flickering like a candle in the wind, still radiated the will of a king.

But then—

A soft glow began to shimmer around him.

Golden light gathered from the air, the sky, and even the void beyond the heavens.

It moved to him, drawn not by force, but by acknowledgment.

The heavens had tested him. Tried to destroy him. And failed.

Now, they bowed.

The golden light formed a cocoon around Riley's battered form.

Slowly, his wounds closed. The blood evaporated.

The burned skin peeled away to reveal flawless flesh beneath, as if he were being reborn.

It wasn't just healing.

It was transcendence.

Riley Mason was no longer mortal.

He had passed the final test.

And the heavens recognized it.

BOOM—

Another sound echoed across the sky, but this time it wasn't thunder.

It was the sound of space splitting—a rift opening high above, wider than a mountain range.

A massive gate—etched with celestial runes, breathing divine power—materialized from thin air.

The Immortal Ascension Gate.

It floated like a supreme artifact, suspended between realms, flanked by two golden dragons made of pure qi.

Each dragon curled around a pillar that seemed to stretch into infinity.

From the gate poured a divine wind that smelled of eternity, carrying with it the aura of a higher plane.

The Immortal Realm had opened its doors.

And it had opened them for Riley.

A deep, trembling voice—neither male nor female, but ancient and vast—rippled across the heavens:

"Riley Mason. You have passed the Tribulation of the Hundred Heavens. Step forward, and ascend."

The crowd below fell silent again.

Some were crying.

Others were bowing.

And still more simply stood frozen, awestruck beyond measure.

He had done it.

He had shattered every limit.

He had defied the heavens and survived.

And now, he was no longer just a legend of the mortal world—he was stepping into the halls of the divine.

Riley opened his eyes and took a step forward and his body was pulled upwards towards the very heavens itself.

The blinding brilliance of the ascension gate had faded, and all around him was quiet—eerily quiet.

He now stood on a vast, silver-white beach that shimmered under twin suns suspended in the azure sky.

The waves of an iridescent sea lapped gently at the shore, humming with spiritual resonance unlike anything the mortal realm could offer.

In the far distance, strange birds soared in lazy arcs above translucent cliffs that pulsed faintly with spiritual light.

He was alone.

Not a single soul could be seen. No buildings, no roads, no signs of civilization. Just the endless stretch of beach, ocean, and sky.

"A safe landing," Riley muttered to himself, eyes scanning the horizon with calm calculation.

He remembered clearly the contents of the ancient scrolls he'd studied in his research: upon ascension to the Immortal Realm, cultivators were often scattered into sparsely populated or neutral territories—"buffer zones," they were called—allowing newly ascended cultivators a chance to stabilize, adapt, and survive.

Some zones were harsher than others, but clearly, fate had favored him today.

With a single thought, spiritual energy surged from his core.

Radiant white robes materialized around his body—clean and flowing, embroidered with faint golden threads that shimmered in the sunlight.

They fit him perfectly, adapting to the contours of his battle-forged form.

He looked down, fingers brushing the smooth fabric.

"A pity to lose the golden robes…" he murmured.

Those robes had been with him since the early days of his rise.

But their time had ended in the final lightning strike, reduced to ash by the will of the heavens.

He exhaled.

No matter. This new robe was not merely cloth—it was symbolic. A new beginning. A new world.

He turned his gaze inward, scanning his meridians, his dantian, and soul core.

Everything pulsed with terrifying force.

He had broken through—Immortal Ascension Realm, the threshold that countless cultivators spent millennia chasing.

It wasn't just an increase in power.

It was a redefinition of existence.

His soul was now anchored in the immortal plane.

His divine sense extended for thousands of miles without effort.

He could grasp the threads of laws he once barely touched—space, time, fate, even causality.

It was as if the entire world had become slower, quieter, smaller in his presence.

"Interesting," he mused again, flexing his fingers slightly.

The pressure of his own aura would have crushed Void Tribulation experts in the lower realm just by standing nearby.

Then, without speaking, he closed his eyes again.

Inside his Void Sanctuary millions of people waited. His followers, his wives, his allies.

Those who had placed their faith in him and followed him into the unknown.

A clone materialized within the sanctuary, walking forward and addressing the gathered masses.

"We've arrived in the Immortal Realm," the clone said, voice calm and clear, echoing across the massive plaza they stood in.

"There is no turning back. I know that among you, some have ancient lineages here—hidden sects, sleeping clans, old friends or ancestors. Some of you may already have backing in this realm. If so, you are free to leave. I have no intention of binding you to me."

He paused.

"You chose to follow me. That was your decision. And whether your path continues with me or elsewhere, you have my respect."

For a long moment, the vast crowd remained silent.

Then—

Thud.

An old man knelt.

"Thank you for everything, Senior Riley," he said, his voice full of emotion.

Another followed.

Then a dozen.

Then hundreds.

Thousands.

A wave of bowing figures swept across the gathering like ripples in a lake.

"Senior Riley… thank you for delivering us."

"We owe you our lives."

"We will never forget your grace."

Riley's clone only nodded.

He had no desire to stop them—these were people with their own lives, their own dreams.

He had given them the path. What they chose to do with it now was up to them.

An hour passed.

Thousands had left, vanishing into streaks of light as they flashed away in all directions—seeking family, opportunities, or simply trying to survive on their own in this new and dangerous realm.

But tens of thousands still remained, standing tall, eyes full of resolve.

They had no support.

No family.

No plan.

Only faith.

And a name: Riley Mason.

Days quietly passed.

But in the Immortal Realm, silence never lasted long—especially when something new and unfathomable emerged from the lower realms.

And soon enough, the name Riley Mason began to spread like wildfire.

At first, it was only whispers and rumors. But then came confirmation.

One such rumor reached the ears of a powerful figure seated within an ancient palace carved into the bones of a heavenly beast long since dead.

The old man sat cross-legged on a floating jade platform, surrounded by elders and emissaries.

His presence distorted the surrounding space ever so slightly—proof of his terrifying cultivation base.

"A Void Tribulation cultivator from the lower realms... who carried millions to the Immortal World using a treasure stored within his body?" the old man mused, stroking his long, silver beard as he listened.

The elder beside him bowed deeply. "Yes, Master. The rumors come from multiple sects. We've verified the accounts with disciples of various lineages who claim to have been brought up by this Riley Mason."

"Hmm..." the old man narrowed his eyes. "Sheltering that many lives within his own body... Is it some kind of evolved sentient treasure? Or a primordial artifact? Either way, it's unprecedented. Perhaps only true immortals could take someone from the mortal realms. But millions?"

He let out a low chuckle filled with intrigue.

"Quite the novel development indeed."

The old man looked thoughtful, eyes flickering with ancient wisdom.

"And he's just newly ascended? Already drawing such ripples across the Immortal Realm. How very interesting."

A short pause.

Then he waved his hand lazily and gave the order.

"Send a party to invite him. Do not provoke him. I want to meet this Riley Mason and see the truth with my own eyes. If he's half as capable as the stories say… he could become a valuable ally. Or a dangerous threat."

"At once, Master!" the envoy said respectfully, clasping his hands and vanishing in a flash of brilliant light.

The old man sat back in silence.

Above his head, the celestial dome shifted subtly—signs that the heavens themselves were watching.

"Riley Mason…" he whispered. "Let us see what kind of storm you bring."