The Awakening of the Heavenly Source Monument

  Inside the monument, the void trembled.

  Cracks spiderwebbed across the misty, obsidian floor, the silence ruptured by a low, guttural groan—as though some ancient, slumbering beast was stirring. From the depths of the fractures, a pillar emerged, its surface a strange amalgamation of stone and jade, gleaming faintly in the oppressive darkness. It rose slowly, ominously, like a forgotten relic forcing its way back into existence.

  Etched across its towering face, in radiant, golden characters, were the words:

  "Heavenly Source Monument."

  As the final tremors subsided, and the void settled into uneasy stillness, a sudden surge of information—dense, incomprehensible, overwhelming—flooded into Guo Chenwei’s consciousness.

  For a fleeting moment, it felt as though his very essence might shatter under the weight of the knowledge. His mist-like form rippled violently, threatening to dissolve, but then… it stabilized. The torrent slowed to a trickle, and Guo felt something shift deep within him.

  The monument had recognized him. He was no longer just a lost soul wandering in the void—he was now its master.

  The knowledge embedded in his mind was ancient, its truths both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The Heavenly Source Monument was no ordinary artifact. It existed beyond the reach of mortal understanding, a relic from an era when immortals roamed the skies and demons battled across the heavens.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  It possessed powers Guo could barely comprehend. The monument was hidden from the world—not just by sight, but from any form of detection. Divination techniques, spiritual senses, even the divine consciousness of gods would slide off its surface like water off stone. Unless someone’s eyes physically beheld it, the monument might as well not exist.

  But its true power lay in the TAO Seeds.

  Six of them—each one a core of primordial energy, brimming with the potential to shape destinies. For those already touched by the cultivation path, a TAO Seed would magnify their abilities, drawing in spiritual energy as effortlessly as lungs drew air. Their growth would become exponential, pushing them towards realms they might never have reached alone.

  But even more astonishing was the monument’s ability to create cultivators. For those born without a fate tied to the mystical arts, the TAO Seeds would forge a cultivation root where none existed. Whether they flourished depended on their will, their destiny, and the mysterious currents of fate that guided all things.

  And within the monument itself… a world.

  Not vast, but self-contained—a miniature realm suspended in the void. Here, Guo could manipulate the very fabric of existence, shaping landscapes, nurturing spiritual flora, and perhaps even sheltering living beings. The realm pulsed with untapped potential, waiting for resources to expand its boundaries.

  But all was not as it should be.

  The monument was broken—its heart fractured, its powers crippled. The knowledge poured into Guo’s mind like a river flowing into a cracked vessel, leaking precious abilities into the void. Techniques that once could have shattered mountains or conjured realms from thin air were lost, their essence scattered to the winds. Weapons, once housed within the monument’s depths, were now nothing more than echoes in the dark.

  And Guo Chenwei himself was bound.

  Though he controlled the monument, his consciousness could only drift a few meters beyond its surface, tethered to it like a prisoner in a cage of his own making. His power—his freedom—was no longer his own to command.

  If he wanted to escape this prison, he needed others.

  The TAO Seeds were his only lifeline. As those who inherited them grew in strength, so too would his influence expand. Their cultivation would feed the monument, breathing life back into its dormant heart, and in turn, grant Guo the ability to stretch his will further into the world.

  But that path was fraught with danger.

  The wrong person could twist the monument’s power into something monstrous. A careless choice could birth a tyrant, a despot cloaked in the guise of an immortal. Guo would have to choose his inheritors carefully—men and women with courage, ambition, and the fate to shape the world without corrupting it.

  And perhaps…

  Guo Chenwei’s mist-like form drifted in the dim glow of the monument, his thoughts heavy with both hope and dread.

  He had the power to change the world, but for now, he was still a prisoner of circumstance.