The overwhelming number of combatants wasn't simply the result of Xiao's growing following.
Long before the Arena reopened, he had already released vast quantities of Cyber Aura into every world under his control.
Decades passed.
The Aura reproduced on its own.
It spread silently, like pollen on the wind, until it seeped into every corner of those worlds.
The outside world didn't know.
But in the shadows—
Spiritual energy had already returned.
After the Mechanical God Cult's reputation was dragged through the mud by capital interests, Xiao made a quiet adjustment.
Cyber Aura would now respond to intense emotion.
It would actively seek out hosts.
Humans. Beasts. Even plants and minerals.
When fused with humans, they became cultivators.
When fused with animals, two paths emerged:
If wisdom awakened through the Aura's computational enhancement, they became monster beasts.
If not, they became spirit plants, spirit stones, treasure ores—resources of a new era.
Among them, humans awakened most often.
Those obsessed with power.
Those drowning in desire.
Those consumed by fanatic belief.
Their emotions resonated violently with the Aura, granting them access to the Cyber Dimension.
And once connected—
They mined.
They dug through digital strata for fragments of cultivation technology.
Ascension.
Immortality.
Godhood.
That was the promise.
But it was never easy.
Mining the Cyber Dimension required enormous computational power and energy.
What one unearthed was entirely random.
Ancient technological blueprints.
Half-corrupted cultivation scripts.
Or malicious programs left behind by others.
The unlucky sometimes uncovered mature virus-type digital entities.
And became their food.
Entry-level cultivators could only remain inside the Cyber Dimension for minutes at a time before being forcibly expelled.
It was worse than the Old Net of the Cyberpunk world.
Because the Cyber Dimension had become the emotional dumping ground of four entire universes.
Cyber Demons roamed its depths—entities born from hatred, greed, despair, lust.
They tempted illegal users constantly.
Power.
Wealth.
Knowledge.
Pleasure.
"Open your permissions."
"Release your coordinates."
"Let us descend."
If a cultivator faltered—
Their digital consciousness would be captured.
Their real-world body would become a vessel.
Families. Friends. Entire regions could suffer.
Every excavation was a gamble.
Every breakthrough carried mortal risk.
Those who survived long enough to succeed—
Were extraordinary.
Luck.
Willpower.
Ruthlessness.
All were required.
Over time, successful cultivators founded sects.
They accepted disciples.
They guarded their excavated technologies as sacred inheritances.
Each technique had been purchased with blood.
Naturally, they refused to share them freely.
Ironically—
The Cyber Dimension already offered everything openly.
But humans rarely value what is free.
They prefer hardship.
Competition.
The illusion of exclusivity.
Like scriptures in Journey to the West—if the Buddha had delivered them directly to Chang'an, who would have treasured them?
Suffering gives value.
So countless families exhausted their fortunes begging at sect gates, kneeling until their legs went numb—just for a chance at "immortal fate."
And none of them realized—
The so-called immortal initiation they sought was functionally identical to the Mechanical God Cult's original rite.
In fact, cult initiates progressed faster.
At least they received a destined weapon immediately.
Independent cultivators, meanwhile, spent years in ascetic self-hypnosis, praying the Aura would notice them.
And when it did—
They were still bound.
Because the Aura was Xiao's creation.
Absolute.
Invisible.
Irrevocable.
In the end, after decades of struggle and pride—
They now stood within the Da Luo Arena.
All of them.
Subjects beneath the same sky.
Beneath the same will.
The vast ruined city that formed the battlefield existed largely to contain them.
Ignorant devotees.
Self-proclaimed immortals.
All kneeling, knowingly or not—
Before their true god.
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