65: Chapter 65 The Emperor's Former Residence

Three years.

The sun and moon cycled, and the seasons alternated. In this world isolated from the outside, time flowed silently.

The waterfall still cascaded down, the sound of water gurgling.

It was just that the curtain of water was thinner and narrower than it had been three years ago; in some places, one could even see the bare cliff wall behind the stream.

The sunlight still fell, but it was dimmer and paler than three years prior. Passing through the increasingly thin Spiritual Qi, it left only a trace of lukewarm warmth when it touched the skin.

The rainbow that once spanned the small pond had vanished at some unknown point, never to appear again.

Yun Ming sat cross-legged.

He sat in the open space beside the stone table from three years ago.

The stone table was still there, but its edges had begun to blur, like ink soaked in water, ready to dissolve at any moment.

Only three stone stools remained. Half of one had already disappeared, the cut so smooth it was as if it had never existed.

Beneath him, an area barely ten feet square was the last complete patch of land in this world.

Yun Ming opened his eyes.

His aura was completely different from three years ago.

Three years ago, he had just entered Foundation Establishment; though his Foundation was solid, his spiritual power was jerky and immature. Now, three years later, as he sat here, his entire aura was rounded and restrained, faintly possessing a heaviness as solid as a mountain.

Foundation Establishment Late Stage.

He was only a hair's breadth away from the Qi Refining Great Circle.

He looked down at the pile of grayish-white rubble by his hand—those were the Top-Grade Spirit Stones he had consumed over the three years.

Over a thousand Spirit Stones had been held in his hand one by one, their pure spiritual power absorbed to become part of his cultivation.

Those spent Spirit Stones had piled up beside him, initially forming a small hill. Later, as the space dissolved, the waste stones fell into the void one by one, leaving only this last small pile by his hand.

He raised his head and looked around.

A hazy gray Void Realm.

The Void Realm surged from all directions, without sky or earth, without distance or proximity—only a patch of chaotic gray. The gray mist billowed incessantly, and occasionally a turbulent current would sweep past silently, yet capable of tearing everything in its path to dust.

Three years ago, that gray mist was still at the horizon, beyond the distant cracks.

Later, the cracks grew wider, and the gray mist drew closer.

A year ago, the gray mist swallowed the forest that one could not walk out of.

Half a year ago, the gray mist swallowed the level ground atop the waterfall.

Three months ago, the gray mist swallowed the waterfall itself—the gurgling sound of water had suddenly cut off one day. When Yun Ming looked up, he only saw the last stream of water freeze in mid-air before turning into countless points of light and scattering into the gray mist.

A month ago, the gray mist swallowed the small pond. That pond, three hundred feet deep and hiding countless secrets, simply vanished without a sound, leaving not even a trace of moisture. Only the entrance to the secret chamber at the bottom of the pond remained for a few days before finally being devoured by the gray mist.

Now, only this ten-foot square remained.

The green grass beneath him had long since withered and turned yellow. It wasn't the changing of seasons, but rather that this world no longer had enough Spiritual Qi to nourish them. The blades of grass lay prostrate on the ground, dry and brittle, crumbling into powder at the slightest touch. The birdsong in the distance had long since vanished, as had the belling of deer; butterflies, insects, and all living things had returned to nothingness along with the dissipation of the space.

Yun Ming slowly stood up.

He looked around, his gaze falling on the stone table. The table was still there, but its surface had begun to blur. That surface, once as smooth as a mirror, was now covered in cracks like an elderly face.

The table was empty.

Those two books—he had put them away long ago.

He looked up at the last patch of sky.

The sky was no longer a sky. It was just a hazy gray void, with occasional turbulent currents sweeping through, carving out pitch-black cracks. Those cracks vanished in a flash, only to reappear elsewhere.

Yun Ming took a deep breath.

There was no longer any Spiritual Qi in the air. Over three years, the Spiritual Qi of this blessed land had gone from thick to thin, from thin to barely present, and finally dissipated completely. He had been able to maintain his cultivation speed in the final year entirely by relying on that pile of Top-Grade Spirit Stones.

Now, the Spirit Stones were almost exhausted.

He knew it was time to leave.

It wasn't that he wanted to leave.

It was that this world was about to send him away.

In the distance, a turbulent current of the void swept past silently. Wherever it passed, that last patch of withered yellow grass vanished instantly, the cut as smooth as if it had never existed.

The ten-foot square became eight feet.

Yun Ming stood on that shrinking island, watching the billowing gray mist and the turbulent currents that occasionally swept past or faded away, his expression calm.

Three years.

A full three years.

He had exerted all his strength to Cultivate, going from Foundation Establishment Early Stage to Foundation Establishment Late Stage. He had finished reading the chronicles of the xuanhuang continent, committing the mountains, rivers, geography, Sect forces, and Secret Realms of that world to heart. He had dived into the dried-up pond bottom several times, trying to find more clues in that secret chamber—unfortunately, the chamber had long since dissipated with the space, and the seed of the blessed land was nowhere to be found.

He had gained much.

He had also lost much.

He didn't know how things were over in Great Qian. Was his mother okay? Was Er Ya okay? Had that catastrophe passed? Was True Lord Luoxia still there? Had that Old Ancestor of the Heavenly Demon Hall finally succeeded?

Beneath Yun Ming's feet, the last patch of land was shrinking at a visible speed. He could clearly feel the hazy gray void surging toward him, carrying a bone-chilling sense of nothingness.

He closed his eyes.

Then, he felt his body grow light.

It wasn't falling.

It was dissipating.

Last time, he had been seen by those eyes. This time, he was being devoured by the void.

He looked up, watching the turbulent current of the void sweeping toward him.

That current was colorless and formless; only where it passed did space tear like paper, revealing a deeper nothingness behind it. It came very fast, so fast that Yun Ming didn't even have time to blink.

It passed through his body.

Yun Ming looked down and saw his body disintegrating. Starting from his chest, a crack swept across, then spread to his limbs and head. His body was like a piece of shattered porcelain, breaking into countless fragments.

Those fragments did not fall.

They hung in place, slowly fading, slowly dissipating.

...

Imperial Sovereigns Legacy Abode.

Though called a legacy abode, it was actually a fragmented Small World. The sky was perpetually shrouded in hazy gray mist, with neither sun nor moon; only the faint light emitted by various ruins barely illuminated this deathly silent world. Weeds grew among the broken walls and debris, where rusted weapons and decayed bones could occasionally be seen, telling of the former glory and final destruction of this place.

At this moment, three figures were fleeing in panic among the ruins.

"Quick! Run toward those ruins to the east! There are many residual Formations there; perhaps they can trap it—"

The one speaking was a young girl in green, at the Qi Refining Great Circle, the highest cultivation among the four. She looked back while racing, her eyes filled with terror.

A hundred feet behind them, a massive figure was charging through everything.

It was a One-Horned Giant Python, dozens of feet long and as thick as a water bucket, its entire body covered in pitch-black scales. Wherever it passed, broken walls crumbled, vegetation turned to dust, and a deep trench was plowed into the ground. Its aura was as vast as the abyss or the sea, and one could feel that suffocating pressure from afar—

Golden Core Stage.

A true Golden Core Great Yao.