Tribulation Crossing Alchemy God
The ancient methods of cultivation have long been lost, spiritual energy has faded from the human world, and great calamities have become rare; before the resurgence of spiritual energy, there were no true tribulations. Yet, disasters of nature are tribulations, and so too are those wrought by human hands. A grave illness is a calamity, but so is a minor headache or a fleeting cold. To be caught in a landslide is a tribulation; to stumble over a stone when leaving home is a misfortune all its own. To be framed by schemers in the workplace is a tribulation, and even the fall of a beloved idol to scandal can be a personal calamity. Tribulation is ever-present, inescapable. Before the return of spiritual energy, the trials faced by ordinary people were little more than bad luck. But after the world awoke anew, as cultivators defied the heavens and the laws of the universe were restored, every breakthrough to a higher realm brought a unique hardship. Yet Lin Qingyun could draw strength from every manner of calamity. What others dreaded as the most fearsome of trials became, to him, a source of tremendous nourishment. Reborn with a body attuned to tribulation, and bearing the alchemical furnace of fortune, he was destined to become the Sovereign Alchemist of Tribulation. Let the mighty forces of the world come—demonic legacies, celestial beasts, ancient cultivator civilizations, calamities of earth and sky—on this earth, under the protection of the Sovereign Alchemist of Tribulation, all shall bow before him.
Tribulation Crossing Alchemy God
Before the enormous portrait of a family of three, painstakingly pieced together from seeds of every color, Lin Qingyun suddenly froze, his expression turning blank. Where no one else could see, his hands trembled, and the youthful, delicate features of his eighteen-year-old face transformed in an instant.
A profound shadow crept into the depths of his eyes. His hand slowly rose to touch the painting—the one that by all rights should have been destroyed long ago. Not just the painting, but this manor and the city itself ought to have been reduced to ruins. Even he himself, had he not already perished under the surprise assault of divine beasts and the cultivator civilizations?
“You stubborn child, why do you believe everything others say? You’ve only just reached the Vermilion Initial Stage—even if the ruins permit those at your level to enter, the dangers within are countless. Absolutely not, you cannot go.”
“What’s more, we can’t even be sure whether your uncle and aunt ventured into Ruin Number Eighteen. If it were certain, would I even let you search for them? I’d have gone myself already. No matter what, your second uncle is a master at the Soaring Clouds Stage.”
In the grand manor atop Sea City’s highest peak, Lin Kunshan, with a square, imposing face, thick brows like swords, and eyes bright and deep as the sea, puffed on a cigar, chiding Lin Qingyun. Yet beneath the stern words, concern was plain.
“Qingyun’s determination to look for his uncle and aunt is filial devotion. Besides, we’ve prepared plenty of pills and equipment for him
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