Apocalypse: Surviving as the God of a Tiny Cultivation Sect

In the darkness, something moved.

At first, it was only a mere presence, a faint awareness that slowly gathered itself like a consciousness rising from a long, endless sleep, and then, without warning, it burst into life with a sound that echoed through the void.

Laughter.

It started as a dry, hoarse chuckle, like a voice that had not been used in a long time. Then it grew and deepened until it became wild and unrestrained. In the darkness, it filled the air with a sound that felt both mad and joyful.

"Hahahaha... hahaha... HAHAHAHAHA!"

The voice rolled again and again, louder each time, until it felt like the entire space trembled under it.

A figure slowly emerged.

A middle-aged man, robes torn and stained, long hair hanging loosely, eyes burning with a strange, sharp red light too alive for how long he’d waited.

Xue Minghun.

The Blood Soul Sovereign.

His laughter did not stop.

It only grew stronger.

"At last... at last... after all this time... after waiting through ages that even I have lost count of... after enduring silence that would have driven lesser minds into nothingness... it has finally happened!"

His voice carried both relief and excitement, each word filled with a kind of hunger that had been building for far too long.

"Do you know how long I have waited for this moment?"

He spread his arms wide, his figure trembling slightly as if even now, after everything, he could barely contain himself.

"A million years... perhaps more... time lost its meaning long ago... the rise and fall of countless sects... the birth and death of generations... all of it passed while I remained here, bound to that ring, watching, waiting, searching..."

His breathing grew heavier, but his smile only widened.

"Searching for someone worthy... someone with talent... someone strong enough to carry my inheritance..."

His eyes narrowed.

"And more importantly... someone suitable."

He licked his lips slowly, the motion filled with a kind of hunger that could not be hidden.

"A body... a vessel... a chance to live again..."

His voice softened, but the madness within it only deepened.

"The cultivation method I left behind... it was never meant to be a gift... it was bait... a perfect lure... something that would draw in the right person... someone who would not question... someone who would reach out... someone who would accept it..."

His laughter returned, lower this time, but far more dangerous.

"And once they did... once they took it... once they allowed it to connect..."

His fingers curled slowly.

"I would take everything."

His gaze lifted.

"And now... you are here."

He stared forward, his eyes locking onto something in the darkness.

"Yes... yes... I can feel it... your soul... your potential... your presence..."

His breathing became uneven, excitement building within him like a storm ready to break.

"Such power... such overwhelming existence... this is beyond anything I had hoped for..."

His voice trembled.

"If I take your body... if I devour your soul... then not only will I return... I will surpass everything I once was... I will break through... I will reach the Ascendant Realm... no... beyond it!"

He leaned forward slightly, his grin stretching wider.

"Come now... do not resist... do not struggle... simply allow me to refine your soul and take what is mine..."

He raised his hand.

"Little fel—"

His voice stopped.

His expression immediately froze, smile disappeared. And slowly... very slowly... his face changed. His mouth fell open wide and eyes widened to a degree he couldn’t control.

Next, his entire body trembled as if something far beyond his understanding had just revealed itself.

"...What..."

His voice cracked.

"What is this...?"

He stared ahead, his gaze fixed on something he had never seen before back when he was alive.

Something that made everything he knew feel small.

In front of him... was a soul.

But it was not a soul he could understand.

It was not condensed.

It was not refined.

It did not carry the structure of a cultivator.

It was... Massive, Colossal and Seemingly endless!

It stretched beyond his sight, its presence pressing down on him like a mountain, like an ocean, like the weight of something that had no limit, no boundary, no restraint.

Compared to it...

He was nothing.

That’s what his entire instinct was telling him.

"...Is this... the one who opened the spatial ring...?"

His voice came out as a whisper, filled with disbelief.

"No... no... this cannot be..."

His breathing grew rapid.

His thoughts began to race.

He, Xue Minghun, had once stood at the peak of the Transformation Realm.

He had walked a path that few could even imagine.

He had found a method that could take him beyond the transformation..

He had prepared everything.

The ring, the trap and the plan.

Everything had been perfect.

Supposed to be perfect.

And yet...

In front of him...

Was something that shattered all of it.

"What kind of being are you!?"

He shouted, his voice filled with both fear and desperation.

But even as the question left his mouth, something inside him snapped.

"No matter!"

His expression twisted.

"No matter what you are... I cannot let this chance slip away!"

His hands moved.

His soul surged.

A violent force exploded outward from him, waves of energy crashing into the vast presence before him.

Shockwaves spread in all directions, each one carrying the full power of his cultivation, each one capable of tearing apart lesser souls without resistance.

Again and again, he struck.

Again and again, the shockwaves burst forth.

The darkness trembled under the force.

The space itself seemed to ripple.

But the massive soul before him did not even move.

It did not even react.

It did not even acknowledge him.

And still, Xue Minghun continued.

His attacks grew stronger.

Faster.

More desperate.

The shockwaves overlapped, collided, and surged forward in an endless barrage, each one stronger than the last, each one filled with everything he had left.

His laughter returned, but this time, it was no longer filled with joy.

It was frantic.

Unstable.

"If I cannot devour you... then I will destroy you!"

On the other side, Clayne frowned.

He could feel something.

A strange sensation.

Like something was hitting him.

Again and again and again.

It felt like punches. But weak ones. No... Something annoyingly weak.

Like a small toddler hitting him over and over without knowing what they were doing.

"...What is this...?"

He muttered under his breath, the words catching in his throat before he could decide whether he was afraid or simply annoyed. Then, as if something had reached into the dark, he heard it.

It was loud, sharp, and a never stopping voice. It was irritating.

Clayne’s eyes slowly opened, and what he saw made him freeze.

In front of him hovered a tiny figure, smaller even than the girl. The man floated as if gravity had forgotten him, thrashing and shouting with frantic intensity. His body trembled as though he were being stretched between rage and panic. The shouting did not just fill the space around Clayne. It filled the space inside him.

"...Seriously?"

Clayne’s brows furrowed.

The noise annoyed him on instinct.

"Don’t be noisy," he whispered.

His voice was low, afraid to disturbed the undead outside. Yet the tiny figure did not stop. If anything, it became even more frantic, its movements more chaotic, its shouting louder as his patience thinned to nothing.

Clayne’s expression hardened.

His patience finally ran out.

Without thinking too much, he raised his hand and slapped it sideward.

The impact hit right away. The little man froze in mid-shout, shaking as if something inside him had broken. His mouth opened, a strained, broken sound came out.

"...I..."

"I will not let you have everything..."

Inside him, something burned. For a moment, he seemed to gather himself, as if trying to find the strength to fight back.

Then Clayne moved again.

This time, he didn’t hold back. His hand came down with a final, firm strike.

The tiny figure vanished instantly, as if it had never been there.

Quiet returned right after.

For a moment, Clayne only listened.

Faintly, a voice echoed in his ears.

"The Ascendant cultivation method. You will never complete it."

A laugh followed, but it was feeble. It wavered, stretching thin until it vanished entirely.

Then, the silence returned.

The darkness around him collapsed, not like an ending, but like a veil being pulled away. The noise vanished, and suddenly he was back.

He was sitting on the classroom floor. Breathing steady. His body still.

"...What was that?"

He frowned slightly.

The memory felt strange... not because it was unreal, but because it seemed too close, as if it had just slipped into his mind like a fleeting thought. It was like a dream trying to fade away before he could grasp it.

"...Weird."

He shook his head lightly, then stopped.

Something else appeared inside his mind.

A clear and complete immortal cultivation method.

He could see it. He could understand it. He could follow it, as if it had always been there, waiting beneath the surface of his awareness. His breathing slowed as his focus locked in.

Without thinking, he almost took a deep breath.

He stopped.

His eyes widened slightly.

"...This is real."

He could feel it. Every structure. Every flow. Every stage.

It was not complete. It only covered the path from the first stage of Qi Infusion through the peak stage of Infusion Realm. Beyond that, it was missing, torn away as if the method itself had been cut short.

Even so, it was enough.

More than enough.

"...So I can cultivate it...?"

Clayne whispered it, testing the words to see whether they would vanish.

For a moment, he stayed still. Then he turned his head and looked at the miniature forest.

It was quiet. It was empty.

The girl was gone.

Clayne stared for a few seconds longer than necessary.

He didn’t say anything.

He just exhaled slowly and let his expression settle into a deep calm. It’s time to test if it would truly work.

He reached up and removed his school uniform, carefully placing it aside. He straightened his posture, sat with his legs crossed, his back upright, and his hands resting on his knees.

The room was silent.

Outside, distant groans still echoed, but inside, there was only him and the cultivation method now residing in his mind like a second heartbeat.

Clayne closed his eyes.