The Silly Immortal Lord Comes Down to Overcome His Tribulation - Chapter 1

Heavenly Realm, South Heaven Gate

“Step, step, step…”

A youth with an ethereal white appearance walked across the floating clouds, his footsteps heavy as he headed toward the South Heaven Gate. The Heavenly Soldiers guarding the gate did not block his path.

“Did I see that right? Was that little Immortal Lord just a wisp of a remnant soul?” one Heavenly Soldier asked, turning his head.

“You’re new here, so you don’t recognize him. He is indeed just a wisp of a remnant soul, yet he managed to become an immortal impressive, right? However, this little Immortal Lord doesn’t even know his own name, so we all call him the Nameless Immortal Lord. He has already descended to the mortal realm ninety-nine times, yet he has never been able to recover his past. Sigh…”

“A remnant soul can become an immortal?! Is he not a demonic entity born into the world?”

“Demonic entities cannot pass through the South Heaven Gate, let alone survive the nine heavenly thunder tribulations required to become an immortal. To ascend, one must possess an immortal root.”

Nameless heard the two soldiers discussing him, but he didn’t mind. He honestly hadn’t kept track of how many times he had reincarnated.

A century in the human world passed in the blink of an eye. He had walked through it time and time again, yet he had found nothing. It seemed he had failed the tribulation of love once more. He would have to go find the Scribe of Fate and ask him to arrange another trip so he could reach a full one hundred cycles.

Palace of Delusion

“He’s here, he’s actually back again!” A young immortal attendant watched the familiar figure approaching.

“So he’s back, why are you making such a fuss? It would be more surprising if he didn’t come back,” a young immortal maiden muttered.

“The Immortal Lord has had a headache for an entire day and has gone into seclusion; how is he still so cheerful?” The attendant felt that if he had to go down there ten times, he would never be able to come back.

Nameless entered the Palace of Delusion and shouted:

“Brother Scribe, I’m back! Brother Scribe, look, I brought you some fine Osmanthus wine this time, and that beggar’s chicken you like.”

As soon as he stepped through the door, he felt like he was returning home. Years ago, when he had just become an immortal, he was merely a remnant soul. After the Divine Emperor summoned him and gave him a Painting of a Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains, the Emperor sent him to find the Scribe of Fate to arrange his mortal tribulations, forgetting even to assign him a residence.

The young immortal maiden poked her head out. “Stop yelling, the Immortal Lord is in seclusion.”

“Oh! You two are here. It seems I’ve come at a bad time. If I had known, I would have taken another breath below before coming back up.” Nameless poured a massive pile of various foods out from his Painting of a Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains.

“The Immortal Lord is in seclusion, so the matter of this tribulation is left to us,” the young attendant said, swallowing hard as he looked at the mountain of delicacies. A moment later, he produced an astral compass.

Nameless stared at the compass in the attendant’s hand. “Is this time different?”

The young attendant said indignantly:

“You’ve already gone down ninety-nine times and gained absolutely nothing! Every story the Immortal Lord wrote for you, every tribulation he arranged as soon as you encountered the trial, you either ran off to a Taoist temple to contemplate life or jumped into a river to commit suicide. When did you ever actually face the tribulation?”

“How was I supposed to know that the mortal ‘me’ was so fragile? Don’t worry, I promise to follow the script this time!” Nameless patted his chest to guarantee his success.

“The Immortal Lord said that this time, we will use the astral compass and let fate decide.”

It was the first time Nameless had seen such a high-level immortal treasure. He reached out to touch it, but the young attendant heartlessly swatted his hand away.

“Hehehe, tell me, how exactly will ‘fate’ decide? Are we taking the three thousand Taoist paths or entering the path of reincarnation?”

The former meant descending in his original body, while the latter required being born as a mortal the difference was quite significant.

As it happened, the stars on the astral compass shifted and moved in the blink of an eye, and faint thunderous light flickered within. If this thing was so good, why hadn’t they brought it out sooner?

The young maiden shook her head and gave him a gentle, friendly smile. “Neither. You just need to jump off from in front of this palace gate~”

“What??” Nameless felt the wind here was a bit strong; he hadn’t heard clearly.

The young maiden rolled her eyes at him.

“If you want to go back down, hurry up. We still have to go clean the library.”

“If I jump from here, my current cultivation level will lead to my death within the barrier.”

“That won’t happen. The Immortal Lord has already arranged everything. Plus, with the astral compass, you can pass through quietly,” the young attendant said, showing off the compass in his hand.

“You just need to keep yourself hidden; don’t worry about anything else.”

Nameless turned and walked toward the palace gate.

“Fine then~ My life is now completely in the hands of you two little ghosts. When I return from overcoming my tribulation, I’ll bring you both even more delicious food.”

Nameless looked at the drifting clouds beneath his feet, took a deep breath, and leaped down.

“Three thousand worlds, here I come again!”

Demon Realm, Nine-Seclusion Palace

The gates of the Demon Palace were wide open, and the intense demonic energy rushing out was suffocating. Giant demonic sculptures stood on the palace walls. The entire palace was brightly lit and resplendent with gold and jade. A giant night-luminescent pearl hung in the center, emitting a blinding light and displaying an air of prosperity.

High on the main throne sat a handsome man dressed in deep red silk.

“Demon Sovereign, do you really need to drink this?”

A woman with a graceful figure leaned over to present a bowl of pitch-black medicine to the handsome man on the throne. This was no ordinary medicine; it could suppress violent energy.

Ye Lan spoke gloomily:

“Yun Long, the affairs of the Demon Realm are left to you. Those old geezers in the Immortal Realm love to run to the mortal world to undergo tribulations to improve their cultivation; I’ll go down and play a bit myself.”

Born as a demon, he was naturally prone to violent rage. He didn’t remember what had happened ten thousand years ago that caused him to lose that sliver of his soul and his violent temper, leaving him injured. However, in these ten thousand years, he had been in seclusion to heal and had cultivated some demonic rage again. He couldn’t pass the barrier with this energy. If he wanted to pass, he had to seal his cultivation and the violent aura surrounding his body.

“Demon Sovereign, this medicine will suppress your power. If something happens in the mortal world…”

Ye Lan released his aura, sneering:

“Heh! They are merely ants. My soul is immortal and indestructible. Even if I am missing a sliver of it, no one can do anything to me. If there is any mishap, when I return, I will show them what it means to have the Heavenly Demon descend—a magnificent landscape of a thousand miles of blood and a million corpses!”

Yun Long was shocked by the sudden release of pressure and knelt on the spot, her body trembling uncontrollably, nearly vomiting blood. This accursed bloodline suppression—she had been too worried after all.

Ye Lan drank the medicine in his hand in one gulp.

Clang!

The blood-colored skull bowl was smashed onto the animal skin on the floor.

Ye Lan stood up and walked toward the palace gate with a majestic air. He had already drunk the medicine; he could now pass through the barrier and cross the River of Oblivion, right? Hmph! If his cultivation hadn’t yet been restored to its peak, he wouldn’t be going through all this trouble; he would have simply shattered those three thousand barriers.

The young attendant looked at the astral compass in his hand. “Calculating the time, it’s time to turn the astral compass. Should we turn it or not?”

That sliver of a remnant soul was still humming a tune, flying quite happily because he believed in this direct method.

The young maiden was happily picking and choosing from the pile of food, splitting her attention to answer:

“Turn… or don’t? Look at the movement of the stars on the astral compass.”

“Eh??!!!” the young attendant cried.

Zzzzt! Zzzzt!

“What’s wrong?” The young maiden heard the strange sound from the compass and immediately got up to check. She snatched the compass from the young attendant’s hand and demanded:

“Why is it spinning so fast?”