Rising steadily to his feet, Yun Che drew in a deep breath as he silently marveled at the immense changes surging through his body. With the back-to-back breakthroughs in his profound body art, the vitality within his flesh had reached an unprecedented peak, and even his comprehension of the surrounding Laws had ascended to a level far beyond what he had previously imagined.
His physical form, once teetering on the edge of divinity, had now fully crossed that threshold. If he were to make an estimation, Yun Che was certain—his body alone had reached a level that could rival, if not equal, the realm of the Ancient True Gods themselves. It was a transformation so profound and terrifying that it could shake the foundation of the entire Abyss.
And yet, this outcome was not entirely unexpected. Given the purity and density of the surrounding energy and Laws—especially at this depth within the Endless Fog Sea—it was an inevitability for someone of his constitution. The only reason he hadn't dared to venture this deep in the past was simple: his cultivation had been far too lacking, and the exact location of the Well of Samsara had remained an elusive mystery. But now, equipped with both direction and power, the path before him had become clear—and this evolution of body and soul was destined from the moment he set foot in this place.
With his newly awakened vision, Yun Che stood still for a long moment, his breath steady yet slow, his heart strangely calm amid the ever-churning madness of this place. In his eyes now, the Abyssal Dust—once nothing more than an endless sea of gray death—had transformed into something far more intricate, even beautiful. Threads—countless threads—spun and drifted through the dense fog like glowing filaments of divine silk, weaving through space, intersecting and diverging in ways that defied mortal comprehension.
These were not mere particles of dust or chaotic fragments of dead energy. No, these were the Laws themselves—the fundamental truths of existence, stripped of disguise. They did not float aimlessly. They followed rhythm, order, patterns of unshakable intent, like veins of reality pulsing with the heartbeat of creation.
As they entered his body, Yun Che could feel each strand being broken down, reconstituted, and reshaped. His divine body, the legacy of the Ancestral Goddess, did not reject these foreign essences. Instead, it devoured them, transformed them, and made them his own. Every breath he drew into his lungs fed a boundless hunger, not of the flesh or soul, but of the Infinite Worlds within him. And as they were fed, they awakened.
His consciousness turned inward—deep into the divine tapestry of his inner cosmos. There, he saw what he had never truly understood before. Each of the Infinite Worlds—swirling with light, shadow, flame, frost, thunder, earth, wind, and more—were not random manifestations of power, but complete microcosms forged from Law. They pulsed with their own heartbeat, their own sky, their own subtle gravity, and in each of them, a different Law reigned supreme.
"So... these are the Laws," Yun Che whispered, the words trembling from his lips not with fear, but with reverence.
Each world within him was more than a realm of power—it was the embodiment of meaning. The World of Fire, burning in crimson glory, was not just fire—but the principle of combustion, transformation, and renewal. The World of Ice wasn't just cold, but the Law of stillness, of time suspended, of permanence. The World of Wind was not just breeze or storm, but the Law of motion, of freedom, of formless force that could never be caged.
Although these worlds were still incomplete, evolving with every thread of Law he absorbed, Yun Che could now sense their intent. The greater Laws were slowly dominating the lesser, not with violence, but with harmony—guiding each world toward purity, balance, and unity.
It was a process that could not be rushed, but with every moment spent in this forbidden depth of the Endless Fog Sea, the Laws drew closer to perfection. And he, Yun Che, the sole wielder of this infinite cosmos, was no longer merely their container—he was their architect. Their guardian. Their god.
And he knew... that day would come.
The day when the Laws were whole. When the Infinite Worlds aligned. When the conditions were ripe, and the final piece fell into place.
On that day… life would awaken.
Life not born of a womb, nor sculpted by hands—but born from the Laws themselves, the breath of existence, the dream of worlds.
And in that moment, Yun Che would not simply be a cultivator, a god, or a king.
He would be the first, the origin, the father of all the races that would emerge from his divine creation.
He would be the Creator.
"RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"
"SCREEECHHHHHHHHH!!!"
"ROARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!"
The Heaven Punishing Ancestral Sword trembled violently, its ancient hum resonating across the infinite stretch of Yun Che's inner cosmos, like a bell struck in the deepest corner of reality. In response, the worlds of beasts—untamed, wild, and primal—howled with joy, their roars thunderous and exultant as the flood of energy surged into them.
These beast worlds, among all the Infinite Worlds within Yun Che, had advanced the farthest. Their lands had formed, their skies had split open, their elemental pulses already stirred the winds and cracked the heavens. Great mountains heaved, rivers blazed with liquid power, and unseen titanic forms stirred beneath the surface. They were on the brink—on the edge of something extraordinary. Only a single step remained… the final spark.
Life.
Yun Che stood amidst it all, his divine sense sweeping across the countless realms within him. Watching them pulse, roar, and rumble felt like witnessing the heartbeat of a slumbering god—no, not a god. A creator.
"Is this… fate?" he whispered, voice low and filled with something between awe and revelation.
Only now, after his dual breakthroughs and the awakening of his divine vision, did Yun Che finally begin to understand. The Ancestral Goddess—mother of all creation—had once scattered her essence into the void, birthing stars, realms, laws, and life itself. She had created everything.
And now, she had passed that final gift—her divine Void Body—onto him.
It was not just a blessing… but a legacy. A calling. The cycle was beginning anew.
Planets… stars… realms… laws… beasts… mortals… gods. Everything that once was, would be again. But this time—through him.
With his awakened vision, Yun Che turned his gaze toward the deeper reaches of the Abyss—the blackened void that once refused even his divine sense, now laid bare before his eyes like a veil lifted by fate itself.
What had once seemed like an endless wall of darkness, thick with oppressive Abyssal Dust and collapsed space, was now pierced cleanly by the golden radiance of his divine insight. And there—shimmering faintly amidst the swallowing black—was a reflection. A glimmer. A mirrored light, like the twinkling of a single star beneath a lightless ocean.
But that wasn't all.
Within his new sight, Yun Che began to perceive something greater—something woven into the very fabric of reality.
Threads of Fate.
Glistening threads of fate extended from him in all directions, some tangled like chaotic strands, others firm and steady like eternal bridges. One thread, thicker and more radiant than all the rest, reached ahead—into the depths of the Abyssal Dust, deeper than even the light of the Mirror could reach. Its pull was silent, yet absolute.
Many more threads reached outward—some coiling through the darkness of the Abyss, while others soared beyond the sky, extending into a realm far, far above. Though Yun Che could not trace them to their end, his heart instantly recognized their destination.
The God Realm.
"Fate..." he murmured.
With eyes calm and resolute, Yun Che stepped forward, following the radiant thread as it pulled him deeper into the Endless Fog Sea. Each step felt like passing through eternity. The laws here, dense and pure, surged toward him like a tide, and his Infinite Worlds devoured them hungrily—refining, transforming, evolving.
His cultivation, which had long resisted change, began to stir again. Realms trembled within his body, laws harmonized, and energy surged. He broke through once more… then again… and again.
Yet Yun Che paid no attention.
His mind, his soul, his very breath, was focused only on the path before him.
The Mirror of Samsara, floating before him, shone more brilliantly than ever. As if recognizing the place, it began to tremble with joy, and then, like a child returning home, it drifted forward.
Yun Che followed.
Before him, amidst the realm of destruction and void, was an impossible sight—a body of water, utterly still, glistening with an unnatural sheen. It should not exist here. Not at this depth. Not in this place of devouring silence.
Yet it did.
A still, silver lake that mirrored nothing… not the sky, not the land, not even Yun Che's reflection.
And as he stepped forward— His body began to sink, slowly, into the water that should not be. And the Mirror followed, its glow now soft, warm, and filled with yearning as their form vanished from the World of Living.
---------
"Lord... Knight Commander... WE WILL DO AS WE WERE TOLD!"The chorus of voices rang out in unison, echoing with a mixture of discipline, fear, and unshakable awe. Each man and woman stood upright, their gazes fixed upon the figure before them—the one clad in somber gray battle armor, the Abyssal Knight Commander. His very presence was suffocating, like a silent storm pressing down on their souls.
The Knight Commander's gaze swept across them like a sharpened blade, and with a voice as cold and steady as obsidian, he spoke again.
"Remember... only when the formation come to life... when the light emerges. Without it, all efforts will be meaningless."
"Yes!" the group responded in unison once more, their voices subdued now, as though the very name of the Abyssal Monarch weighed upon their tongues. With a final salute, they watched as the Knight Commander turned, his heavy steps fading into the distant haze of the war-torn city.
Only after his silhouette disappeared into the fog did the group stir again. Eyes shifted toward the center of the city, where the massive runic formation pulsed faintly, dormant yet ominous.
One among them, a young man who had once served beside the Lord Knight during a campaign on the borderlands, stepped forward toward the lone Abyssal Knight who remained behind. His voice trembled slightly, more from reverence than curiosity.
"Lord Knight... what exactly is that thing?" he asked, his eyes locked on the eerie formation etched into the ground like the sealed eye of a god.
To his surprise, the Abyssal Knight turned and placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, his expression grim.
"This..." he said in a low voice, "is a matter of the highest secrecy. Even I, who have spilled blood in His Majesty's name for decades, know nothing of its true purpose. All we must do... is obey."
The young man swallowed hard and nodded, the weight of that reply sinking into his bones.
"Y-Yes, Sir Knight."
He dared not ask another question. None of them did. Whatever confusion clawed at their minds, it had to be silenced. Questions could not be asked. Doubts could not be entertained. Not when it was a matter concerning the Pure Land... and above all, the Abyssal Monarch himself.
Across the vast breadth of the Abyss—whether in nameless towns veiled in gloom or within the sacred halls of the Divine Kingdoms—the same command had echoed. Wordless, unquestioned obedience followed, for the decree came not from any mere sovereign… but from the one who reigned above all.
The Abyssal Monarch had spoken. And in this realm, his word was law.
No city, no family, no soul dared to resist. For the task, though cloaked in mystery, was disarmingly simple. So simple, in fact, that it bordered on absurd.
Pray.
Pray to the Abyssal Monarch. Pray to the Ancient True Gods.And when the formation glows with light—pray harder.
It was something most of them already did each day—out of faith, fear, habit, or hope. But now, it was not just devotion. It was strategy. It was a signal. It was a trap.
In just a few fleeting days since Yun Che and the others had vanished into the depths of the Endless Fog Sea, the gears of a grand scheme had begun to turn. The Abyssal Monarch, Mo Su, and the High Priests—those who stood atop the throne of eternity—had already begun laying their snares. They knew full well that within the deeper layers of the Fog Sea, not even someone like Yun Che would be able to sense the movements of the outer world.
The silence beyond would serve them. Now, all that remained… was for him to return.
Would it lead to reconciliation? Or would the sky crack and the Abyss descend into ruin?
No one knew. But what was certain—utterly certain—was this:
When Yun Che returned,Mo Su would no longer hold back.He would reveal his power. The true power of the being who ruled over all creation in the Abyss.
The world would tremble.And the veil over truth and destiny would finally be torn apart.
---------
As Yun Che sank deeper and deeper into the impossible waters, space around him began to twist and churn. The currents weren't made of water alone—but of time, of dimension, of reality itself—spinning, folding, collapsing, and stretching like threads torn from the loom of the cosmos. It was as though he were falling not through distance, but through the breath of eternity itself.
With eyes closed and heart calm, Yun Che allowed his profound energy to erupt in full, forming a divine barrier that enveloped his body like a second skin. Every ripple of distorted space, every jagged tear of dimensional collapse, was instantly deflected by his Void Body and his deep mastery over Abyssal Dust.
He felt no pain.
Not even a shred of discomfort.
In this moment, Yun Che was like a leaf borne by the storm, yet untouched by it—protected by the divine strength that coursed through him, a strength forged through countless tribulations.
Then—"Splash..."
A soft sound broke through the endless silence.
It was gentle, almost dreamlike—a distant splashing echo that carried the weight of the end of a journey. Yun Che's body was no longer tumbling in chaotic void but slowly floating, swaying against a soft current. The tearing of space had faded, replaced by the natural rhythm of water slapping against his limbs.
His eyes opened.
Before him was a vast and foreign world.
Unlike the Abyss, where all was drowned in endless gray and heavy stillness, this realm was a furnace of life and fire. The air was thick, blisteringly hot—hot enough to sear the heavens—and even someone of Yun Che's level felt the oppressive heat pressing against his skin.
But it was not just the temperature. It was the atmosphere itself.
The sky above was a blazing canvas of fire and gold, burning with nine radiant suns that hovered high above, each one pulsing with ancient, furious energy. Their light blanketed the world below in a scorching golden hue, casting long, jagged shadows across the rugged land.
Mountains, sharp and dry like the bones of dead titans, stretched endlessly in every direction. The earth was cracked, dark, and baked beneath the heat of a realm forged by flame.
Yun Che's breath slowed as he whispered,"This place…?"
The landscape before Yun Che resembled that of a lifeless planet in the Abyss—barren, scorched, and vast. But unlike the desolation he had grown familiar with, this place felt... wrong. More lifeless than lifeless. It was not merely the absence of life—it was the absolute rejection of it.
There was no grass, no moss, not even a trace of dried roots or buried seeds. The mountains were craggy skeletons of stone, lifeless ridges reaching toward the sky as if they'd been screaming for mercy before time abandoned them. The soil below the jagged ridges was cracked and blackened, baked into permanence by the eternal blaze of the nine suns overhead.
Yun Che narrowed his eyes, murmuring under his breath,"Is this… the Well of Samsara…?"
He clenched his fists and summoned his profound energy, pushing his cultivation to the very brink. Light surged within him. But when he attempted to rise from the river, his expression changed.
His body wouldn't move.
It wasn't just heavy—it felt like it was fused with the water, like the entire weight of this realm was pressing him down.
"What…?"
The water clung to him not as a liquid but like a chain, a force—a will—dragging him downward. No matter how much strength he exerted, no matter how violently his profound energy roared within him, he could not break free.
Then—
"Help me...""Don't kill me... Don't kill me...""Hahahahahaha!"
!!!!!!!!!!!
Yun Che froze.
The cries came from ahead, carried by the river's sluggish current. He turned his gaze toward the source—and what he saw made his heart lurch.
Figures. Dozens. Hundreds. Countless. Countless indistinct forms, human, beasts, and unexplainable beings floated along the water, drifting endlessly forward. Some of them were half-formed, their skin scorched and sloughing off their bones as if the very heat of the world was erasing their existence.
Others wailed endlessly—piercing sobs of terror, regret, and despair.Some... laughed.The laughter was cracked, hollow, like that of someone who had long since lost their mind.
Faces twisted in agony, in longing, in anger, in madness. Each expression frozen in the moment of their torment. And yet—none of them were alive.
No matter how hard Yun Che focused his divine sense, no matter how deep he tried to probe... there was no heartbeat, no aura, no soul. These were not living beings.
They were echoes. Fragments of sorrow and pain.
They floated past him, one after another—countless formless wraiths drifting along the river's current as if bound to an endless cycle of sorrow. Yun Che, pulled in the opposite direction, slowly ascended against the flow. The number of these souls—or fragments of what they once were—was beyond counting, a ceaseless tide of silence and echoes. And yet, not a single one of them seemed to notice his presence.
!!!!!!!!!!
Suddenly, Yun Che's entire body jolted.
His eyes widened, his breath caught, and for a brief moment, even his heart seemed to forget to beat. His mouth trembled, words refusing to come out at first—because what he had just seen… should not be possible.
Amidst the stream of mournful beings, a face emerged. A face he would never mistake. A face engraved into the depths of his soul.
Jie Ling. A Witch of the Northern Divine Region. One of his women.
Even though he couldn't sense a shred of aura from her—no breath, no pulse, no soul—he knew. He knew it was her. That face, that expression… the faint glimmer in her eyes… it was her.
Her face was twisted in agony, her eyes wide with a fear that pierced through the silence of this cursed realm. Yet buried within that fear, for just a flicker of a second, he saw something else—relief.
"Jie Ling!" Yun Che cried out, his voice trembling. She didn't react. She didn't turn.
"Jie Ling!!"
"JIE LING!!!!"His voice roared across the desolate river like a wounded beast's howl, shattering whatever silence remained—but no matter how he screamed, how he fought to reach her, her form continued to float past him like mist in the wind. No matter how wildly he struggled against the current, how fiercely he poured his profound energy to its very limit, his body was bound—unable to move from its path, unable to stop her fading silhouette.
She passed him.
And just like that, she vanished—swallowed by the current, lost in the distance, like a dream slipping away at the moment of waking.