318: Chapter 318 The Way of Conquest

Feng Tianxia's power was like the most brutal iron hoop, tightly locking those shards of Dao Laws that had shattered down to their Origin—no matter how the shards struggled or roared, they could not escape his palm.

The power of Chu Changsheng's future self, however, was the purest and most compatible restorative spiritual liquid in the world, as gentle as spring rain moistening withered earth, silently seeping into every crack as fine as a hair to perform the most essential nourishment and mending.

Two forces of the Dao, with vastly different—even diametrically opposed—natures—

One dominated the universe, carrying a biting slaughter that declared, "Those who submit will prosper, those who resist will perish," its halberd intent soaring into the heavens, wanting to sever the Heavenly River.

The other was gentle as water, hiding the profound mysteries of creation that "Heaven and Earth are heartless, treating all things as straw dogs," overflowing with clear radiance, capable of giving life to all things.

At this moment, however, for the same goal, they achieved a kind of exquisite, almost instinctual cooperation.

There was no verbal communication.

No technique to guide them.

Only a tacit understanding flowed quietly in the depths of space and time.

Feng Tianxia's power was responsible for "bottoming out"—transforming into the most solid "Dao-Gang scaffolding" of the ages, firmly resisting the surging, crumbling Origin storm, and forcibly pulling Chu Changsheng's present self back from the brink of disintegration and annihilation.

The power of Chu Changsheng's future self was responsible for "repairing"—transforming into the most primordial "creation nutrients" of Grandmist, slowly smoothing over the cracks on the Divine Soul, mending the wounds in the body, and awakening the life Origin that was on the verge of extinguishing.

The process seemed incredibly smooth.

In reality, it was dangerous to the extreme.

One wrong step, and it would be eternal damnation.

With two Dao-Grade powers intertwining and colliding at such close range, even the slightest bit of discordance would be enough to make the already shattered present self of Chu Changsheng suffer even more.

What was even more terrifying was—this could trigger a violent clash between the two Dao forces.

That would be a terrifying scene of everything being annihilated; let alone Chu Changsheng's present self, I fear even this space-time would be torn into dust and returned to nothingness.

This not only required both sides to have absolute, extreme control over their own power, without the slightest deviation.

It also required an indescribable trust and tacit understanding that transcended words—an absolute trust where, even if they were in opposing camps, they could entrust their life and death to the other.

Feng Tianxia's brows were tightly locked.

The veins on his forehead bulged like coiling Dragons, and the fine beads of sweat that seeped out fell into the Void Realm, only to be steamed into nothingness by the domineering aura radiating from his body before they could even drip down.

But his eyes—

Remained as sharp as an unsheathed divine weapon, as if they could pierce through the mists of the ages.

He firmly suppressed the restless, violent power within his body that could break free from its shackles at any moment, forcing it to become the most stable foundation—rather than the source of total destruction.

At the end of the future, Chu Changsheng's future self had eyes as deep as an abyss, containing the birth and death, the Reincarnation, of the Myriad Heavens and Worlds.

The radiance of the ten-colored pagoda reached its peak; on the pagoda, countless ancient Dao patterns flickered rapidly, as if they were deducing the ages of time.

The billions of leaves of the World Tree Manifestation also vibrated at a frequency so profound it was indescribable—simultaneously calculating billions of possibilities to ensure that every wisp of clear radiance fell exactly where it was needed.

Neither too early nor too late.

Neither too much nor too little.

As precise as if carved by celestial craftsmanship, without the slightest error.

Time seemed to be stretched tens of millions of times over.

In this strange field, woven together by Feng Tianxia's thunder of conquest, the clear radiance of creation from Chu Changsheng's future self, and the chilling darkness left behind by the Nether River—

Chu Changsheng's present self was like the only stationary point in the center of the storm.

His figure flickered repeatedly between illusion and reality.

Sometimes turning into a wisp of green smoke.

Sometimes solidifying into a body of flesh and blood.

Those crisscrossing cracks in his Origin were mending at a slow but steady pace under the nourishment of the clear radiance.

The Soul fire, which had been so weak it was nearly extinguished, also gradually stabilized—although still dim, there was no longer any danger of it extinguishing at any moment.

Finally.

When the last Origin crack, which had been deep in his marrow and nearly severed his life force, completely disappeared under the wrapping of the ten-colored clear radiance—

Feng Tianxia suddenly withdrew his left hand!

"Hmph!"

He shook his hand, as if it were stained with something disgusting and filthy.

His face instantly resumed that arrogant expression of looking down upon the world, with a haughty curve at the corner of his mouth—as if the cautious, walking-on-thin-ice appearance from just a moment ago had never existed.

But the extremely subtle flash of relaxation deep in his eyes could not be completely concealed.

It was precisely captured by his future self.

The clear radiance at the end of the future also slowly receded; the ten-thousand-foot glow of the ten-colored pagoda faded, turning into a stream of light that vanished into the center of Chu Changsheng's future self's brow.

The billions of leaves of the World Tree Manifestation returned to calm, and as they swayed gently, they revealed an undisguisable weariness.

The aura of Chu Changsheng's future self also showed a faint, almost imperceptible weakening.

The consumption required for this precise repair across time and space was far greater than imagined.

"I have noted this favor."

The voice of Chu Changsheng's future self returned to its usual ethereal calm, like a sound from beyond the heavens—yet it carried a weight as heavy as a mountain.

Every word carried an unquestionable solemnity, echoing for a long time in the depths of space and time.

Feng Tianxia gave a rough laugh.

The laugh was rough and domineering.

He did not commit to an answer.

But his gaze suddenly became incomparably sharp, like an unsheathed peerless divine weapon—instantly locking onto the Nether River darkness that had been surging in the shadows, trying to take the opportunity to move, yet firmly suppressed by the biting halberd intent radiating from his body.

Hidden within that darkness was a chilling malice and madness capable of freezing the Soul.

Yet under his gaze, it was like prey encountering its natural predator—shivering, not daring to move a single inch.

"Now—"

On the Painted Halberd in his hand, the black and red lightning boiled fiercely once again, several times more intense than before!

As if it could burn through the Nine Heavens and the ten lands, and refine the primordial ages!

At the tip of the halberd, the aura of slaughter soared to the stars, tearing the firmament and causing space-time to tremble violently.

"It is time to completely deal with these filthy things."

"Taichu, we will meet again!"

Before the words had even faded—

He thrust the halberd!

The Painted Halberd tore through the Void Realm, bringing with it a black and red stream of light that pierced through the ages—like the destruction of the primordial world, like the falling of the stars of the Myriad Heavens and Worlds!

The endless power of conquest descended with a roar!

Wherever it passed, space-time crumbled and Laws were annihilated.

All existence turned into nothingness!

The space-time rift that Feng Tianxia had torn open completely mended without a trace under the gentle moistening of the last wisp of clear radiance.

Along with his domineering aura that stirred the winds and clouds and could crumble galaxies at a whim, it dissipated cleanly like a receding tide—as if it had never stirred up even the slightest ripple in this space-time.

Only this space-time node, repeatedly washed by the power of the Dao and appearing slightly dilapidated, remained.

In the Void Realm, there remained both the faint, dead silence of nothingness after the Nether River was annihilated, and a lingering, elusive Dao rhyme of "conquest."

That Dao rhyme was as sharp as an unsheathed divine weapon—even with only a trace remaining, it still exuded an arrogance of looking down upon the world and being the sole Dominator.

As if silently declaring the former Dominator.

At the end of the future.

The figure shrouded in tranquil radiance did not leave immediately.

The light of the ten-colored pagoda had completely receded, no longer possessing the magnificent spectacle of the ten-thousand-foot glow from before.

The ancient Dao patterns flowing on the pagoda also became sluggish, revealing an undisguisable weariness.

The World Tree Manifestation beside him also swayed its billions of leaves with a weariness that went deep into its Origin—the vibration of every leaf vein was several points slower than before.

As if it had exhausted even the strength to stretch.

Chu Changsheng's future self gazed quietly in the direction of the Void Realm where Feng Tianxia had disappeared.

Those eyes, which contained the birth and death, the Reincarnation, of the Myriad Heavens and Worlds, were now, for once, a few shades softer.

On his ethereal and vast face, a trace of an extremely faint, almost imperceptible curve seemed to appear—

This curve was extremely shallow, like a ripple barely perceptible when the wind blows across a mirror-like lake.

It was fleeting.

This was not joy, nor was it mockery.

It was a complex emotion mixed with helplessness, understanding, and a trace of extremely distant, resonant emotion—like aged fine wine, mellow yet carrying a certain indescribable bitterness.

"Taixuan, oh Taixuan... still the same, acting without restraint."

The intention of the future turned into a soft sigh, lightly blending into the murmuring sound of the River of Time.

The voice carried a touch of familiarity from an old acquaintance, and also a touch of helplessness regarding his domineering actions—as if reminiscing about a past that spanned the ages.

"Worthy of being the only lunatic who could kill those things until they were terrified, and kill his way out of the Thirty-Six Heavens."

His long eyelashes trembled.

Shaking off two tiny grains of light dust.

Chu Changsheng's present self finally slowly opened his eyes from the Chaos.

At first, his eyes were filled with hazy Chaos, reflecting the broken shards of space-time and the lingering remnants of the future's clear radiance.

Myriad lights and shadows flowed rapidly, collided, and annihilated deep within his pupils—then slowly settled, turning into the clarity of surviving a disaster, and a weariness that went deep into his marrow.

The weariness was so thick it could not be dissolved, as if even the strength to raise his eyes had consumed countless amounts of his mental energy.

Every blink carried extreme weariness.

He raised his head slightly.

His gaze pierced through layers of space-time barriers, crossing the ages of time—meeting the gaze of that transcendent figure at the end of the future from afar.

The moment their eyes met—

The surrounding, ceaselessly surging River of Time seemed to freeze completely at this moment.

The Void Realm was deathly silent.

Only the Dao rhymes of the same Origin, intertwined in their two gazes, collided and resonated silently, stirring up layers of invisible ripples, undulating in this mysterious field that belonged solely to the "Self."

After a long time.

A trace of an extremely weak curve, mixed with endless emotion and self-mockery, slowly appeared at the corner of his mouth.

This curve was bitter, yet it carried a touch of the relief of surviving a disaster.

"What a... wretched 'reunion' this is."

His voice was extremely hoarse, as if it had been rubbed repeatedly by thousand-year sandpaper—yet it was strangely clearly audible in this deathly silent Void Realm.

The helplessness in his tone was as thick as water-soaked cotton, pressing heavily on one's heart, making it hard to breathe.

The future self did not respond in words.

Only—

The World Tree behind him suddenly trembled!

A small branch flowing with the initial light of Chaos and containing the profound mysteries of creation dropped silently from the billions of leaves—traversing the space-time barriers like a spirit snake, naturally intertwining beneath Chu Changsheng, and transforming into a meditation cushion suffused with clear Qi.