494: Chapter 494 Passing on the Torch

Chu Changsheng withdrew his gaze.

In the depths of the rift, the final rays of light finally merged completely with the scorched earth, as if they had always been one, merely separated for a million years.

This land, which had been suppressed by the Lord of Burials with his own flesh and blood for who knows how many years, was now heart-wrenchingly calm—like the sea after a storm, like the silence after weeping, like all intensity returning to eternal peace.

Nothing had happened.

And yet, it seemed as if everything had happened.

Only the faint, lingering warmth in the air—like a final glance upon parting, like the first ray of dawn at the end of a winter night—proved that the grand and quiet farewell just now was not an illusion.

He turned around.

Burial Son was still kneeling there.

His shoulders trembled uncontrollably, like the last withered leaf in a cold wind that refused to fall.

He gritted his teeth, his lower lip stained with dark golden blood, yet he still desperately suppressed his sobs, only broken whimpers squeezing out from the depths of his throat.

This suppressed, near-suffocating sobbing was more heartbreaking than any wailing.

His gray-white burial robe was thoroughly soaked with tears, clinging to his thin back, outlining the contours of the young man's bones that had not yet fully developed.

The halo of pride that had once shrouded him, belonging to the Burial Clan's son, had completely faded; at this moment, he was as naked as a child who had just lost everything.

Chu Changsheng did not step forward.

He did not reach out, did not speak, and did not even make a superfluous movement.

He simply stood there, like a monument that had weathered the ages, like a silent mountain, like a threshold separating two eras.

He knew that some pain must be chewed and swallowed alone, some tears must be shed and dried alone, and some paths must be stumbled upon alone—this was the price of growth, the ritual that must be completed before taking up the burden.

This was not a simple farewell.

This was one era's final look back at another, a responsibility that had continued for a million years, silently, heavily, and unrefusably shifting from the shoulders of the departed ancestral spirit to the still-tender shoulders before him.

And he had only just realized how heavy this weight was.

The wind blew from the depths of the rift, rolling up scorched dust and bringing a hint of indescribable aura—that was the vitality of new shoots about to break through the rotten soil, the faint glimmer appearing at the end of despair, the warmth quietly stirring in the dead silence.

After a long time.

Burial Son's sobbing finally subsided, leaving only heavy, choked breathing, like the struggling breath of a drowning person just dragged ashore.

He slowly raised his head, his gray-white pupils bloodshot from soaking in tears, the void vortexes and Burial Dao runes that had originally churned within them had completely calmed down, like the sea after a storm—deep, calm, reflecting the sky, and also reflecting Chu Changsheng's figure, silent as an abyss.

"Are you done crying?"

Chu Changsheng spoke, his voice as calm as water in an ancient well at midnight in late autumn, without a ripple, yet bottomless.

Burial Son's body stiffened.

He subconsciously wanted to nod, wanted to say "I'm done crying," wanted to say "I'm fine"—but his throat felt blocked by hot sand, and he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

He could only fiercely wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, the gray-white tear stains mixing with the scorched dust, drawing disheveled gullies on his face, like the scars on this land itself.

He struggled to stand up.

But he had knelt for too long—so long that his legs had lost sensation, so long that his knees seemed to have taken root in the soil.

The moment he exerted force, his knees softened, his whole body stumbling forward uncontrollably, nearly falling to the ground again.

Chu Changsheng did not help.

Even his fingertips did not tremble in the slightest.

He simply watched—watched as this young man gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, using his hands to hold firmly onto the ground, inch by inch, trembling as he "pulled" himself out of the soil.

Every movement was accompanied by the wailing of muscles, every breath carried a tearing tremble, but he finally stood up—

Tottering, yet standing straight.

Like a flag that had just weathered a storm but refused to break.

"Senior... I..."

Burial Son hung his head, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper repeatedly grinding over rough rock.

"No need to say more."

Chu Changsheng interrupted him.

This gaze fell upon Burial Son, not as scrutiny, not as judgment, but as a penetration—penetrating the skin, penetrating the Bloodline, reaching directly to the source of power within him that was Awakening, still tender yet full of infinite possibilities.

This power was the Lord of Burials' final gift, the true Awakening of the Jixu Burial Primordial Spirit Body, and also the seed condensed by the Burial Clan over who knows how many years and countless Karma.

"The Lord of Burials entrusted you to me because he valued your Heart-Nature, and also because he valued your Karma."

Chu Changsheng took a step forward, the scorched earth making a slight, cracking sound under his feet, like some ancient ritual beginning.

"But the path—"

He paused, his gaze like a deep pool, reflecting the lingering tears and confusion in the youth's eyes:

"Must ultimately be walked by you yourself."

Burial Son suddenly raised his head.

In those gray-white eyes, sadness was still churning, confusion had not yet dissipated, like the tide not yet calmed after a storm—but something was quietly lighting up in the depths of the tide.

It was a flame.

Small, yet tenacious; flickering, yet refusing to be extinguished.

This was responsibility, determination, the realization that one must walk forward even knowing the path ahead was dangerous, the backbone that must straighten after taking up the burden.

"This Junior understands."

He took a deep breath—the sound of inhalation was so forceful, as if he wanted to suck all the grief, all the heaviness, all the hope of this land into his lungs—and then, slowly, solemnly, he knelt on one knee.

Not the collapsing kneel from before, but a warrior's submission to his commander, a Disciple's kowtow to his Revered Master, the most solemn promise of a successor to his guide.

"Please Senior... no, please Revered Master, give your instructions."

Chu Changsheng watched him for a long time.

So long that the wind stopped and started again, so long that the shadows in the depths of the rift had moved slightly. Then, he nodded slightly.

He did not say "Good," did not say "Get up," did not say any superfluous words—just this one action, this one look, meant everything.

He raised his right hand.

His index and middle fingers were brought together, the movement identical to the one the Lord of Burials had made before dissipating—the same posture, the same position, the same fingertips pointing at the center of the brow.

But the meaning was completely different.

The Lord of Burials' point was a farewell, a bestowal, using the final burning of his Divine Soul to pave a path that would temporarily shield the descendants from the wind and rain.

And Chu Changsheng's point—

Was a Legacy, an initiation, handing over that path, along with all its thorns and starlight, to the traveler about to set off.

"Close your eyes, focus your mind, look inward at yourself."

Chu Changsheng's voice was not loud, but carried a certain unquestionable majesty—every word was like an ancient bell, striking the depths of Burial Son's Soul, vibrating with a long echo.

Burial Son closed his eyes.

He tried hard to collect his focus, suppressing all the sadness, confusion, uneasiness, and fear—sinking those churning emotions like sand, letting his consciousness sink into his body, into the depths of the just-awakened Jixu Burial Primordial Spirit Body, which was as vast as a newborn Universe.

And then—

"Boom—!!!"

The Sea of Consciousness exploded.

No, it didn't explode; it was filled by something—filled so full, so heavily, so vast, that he was almost lost in this boundless flood of information.

An indescribable stream of information surged in along Chu Changsheng's fingertips!

This was not text, not images, not even any form that could be "understood."

This was the "Dao" itself.

It was the whispers of the fragments of Law.

It was the breathing of the true meaning of the Void Realm.

It was time and space colliding, intertwining, being born, and being annihilated!

They turned into three streams of brilliant light, circling, intertwining, and roaring in Burial Son's Sea of Consciousness—each stream of light carried an unimaginable amount of information, each stream of light emitted a completely different yet equally supreme aura!

The first stream of light was ancient, desolate, carrying a domineering will that could shake the heavens and invert time and space!

Within the stream of light, there were vaguely indistinct insect shadows rising and falling—that was not a specific creature, but a "concept," a supreme existence symbolizing the ultimate manipulation of time and space!

A low hiss came from the depths of the light stream; that sound seemed capable of making time flow backward, making the Void Realm tremble, blurring the boundaries between the past and the future, and making the threads of Karma entangle and snap at the fingertips!

"This is the 'Ten Fiends Treasure Technique: Gu'."

Chu Changsheng's voice echoed directly in Burial Son's Sea of Consciousness, calm, yet carrying a certain indescribable majesty, as if stating an eternal truth, as if reciting an unviolable Law.

"One of the Ten Ancient Fiends Treasure Techniques, holding the ultimate Profound Truth of time and space."

Burial Son's Soul trembled.

Not out of fear, but shock, an instinctive resonance originating from the deepest part of his Bloodline—as if this treasure technique was already a part of him, just asleep for too long, and finally awakened at this moment!

The Ten Fiends Treasure Technique: Gu!

The legendary supreme Legacy! In the Nine Heavens, how many giants went mad for it, how many Dao lineages were destroyed for it, how many eras stirred up bloody storms because of it! That was a supreme secret technique capable of making Immortal Kings drool and immortal Dao lineages exhaust everything to fight for!

And now, it was quietly suspended in his Sea of Consciousness, complete, vast, within reach—like a star waiting to be ignited, like a key waiting to be grasped, like a path leading to the end of the world, unfolding right at his feet.

"Inverting time, reversing the Void Realm, this is its power."

Chu Changsheng's voice continued, every word like the heaviest hammer strike, carving an indelible mark in the depths of Burial Son's Soul:

"You possess the Jixu Burial Primordial Spirit Body and have an Innate affinity for the Void Realm. This technique can be one of your Foundations, helping you understand the changes of the Void Realm and touch a corner of time—but remember—"

The voice suddenly sank, like thunder falling from the Nine Heavens:

"Time and space are the two pillars that constitute this world, and they are also the most dangerous double-edged swords in the world."

"To wield them is to wield the authority of creation and destruction."

"Used right, it leads to divinity, can command the Universe, can invert Karma, can glimpse eternity."

"Used evilly, it leads to demonic corruption, can disrupt epochs, can shatter Reincarnation, can destroy all living beings."

"Be cautious, be serious—the weight of this technique is heavier than your life."

Burial Son's mind shook violently, an almost instinctive awe rising in the depths of his Soul—this was not fear, but awe for the "Dao," awe for "power," and awe for "responsibility."

Before he could digest this shock, the second stream of light surged over.

This stream of light was profound, vast, as if it contained the Myriad Heavens and Worlds, the infinite Void Realm—it had no specific image, only countless ever-changing runes and patterns living and dying within it!

These runes were not text, but "concepts" themselves, the "language" of the Void Realm, the "true words" of the Law!

Each rune was expounding a Profound Truth of the Void Realm; countless runes combined, intertwined, and evolved, constituting the "Law" and "Reason" of the Void Realm, the fundamental logic of how all things exist, move, and annihilate in the Void Realm!

"This is the 'Void Myriad Laws Record'."

Chu Changsheng's voice became ethereal, as if coming from very far away, and also as if whispering in the depths of his Soul—that was the sound of the Great Dao, the ringing of the Law, the narration of the Void Realm itself.

"It is not an offensive technique, nor a flow of Divine Ability, but the general outline of the Dao, the root of the Law."

"It does not teach you how to use the power of the Void Realm, but tells you—"

"What is the Void Realm?"

"Where do the Laws come from?"

"How do all Laws originate, intertwine, annihilate, and Reincarnate within the Void Realm?"

The voice paused, as if giving Burial Son time to understand, or as if waiting for these ancient questions to resonate in this young Soul.

"It is 'Dao,' it is 'Reason,' it is the source of the Void Realm path, the lighthouse illuminating the path ahead."

"Obtaining this record, you can discern the essence of the Void Realm, self-derive all Laws, and open up new paths—rather than being confined to the stereotypes of predecessors and trapped in the cage of old Laws."

"This is the guidance for your path of the Dao, the blueprint of your Foundation, and also—"

Chu Changsheng's voice paused for a moment, that pause containing indescribable weight:

"The key to whether you can surpass the Lord of Burials in the future and walk out a path that belongs to you."

Burial Son felt his Sea of Consciousness roaring, his Soul almost lost, shattered, and reorganized in this vast stream of information!

If the 'Ten Fiends Treasure Technique: Gu' gave him a "Divine Artifact" capable of opening the heavens and splitting the earth, then this 'Void Myriad Laws Record' gave him the "hammer" to forge this Divine Artifact, the "skill" to use it, the "wisdom" to understand it, and even the "Origin" to create more powerful Divine Artifacts in the future!

This was a fundamental classic pointing directly to the Great Dao!

It was a supreme Legacy sufficient for any immortal Dao lineage to use as the Foundation for establishing a sect and suppressing Luck!

An ordinary Cultivator obtaining a glimpse of it would be enough to establish a sect, become famous, and leave behind eternal legends!

And the Revered Master before him had actually imprinted such a complete, source-pointing general outline of the Dao into the depths of his Soul without reservation!

What kind of trust was this!

What kind of expectation!

What kind of... burden!

Following closely, the third stream of light descended.

This stream of light was the purest and most mysterious—it seemed intangible and formless, yet it seemed to be everywhere; it represented "Emptiness," represented "Nothingness," represented an ultimate freedom that transcended distance, transcended obstacles, and transcended all constraints.

"This is the 'Great Void Technique'."

Chu Changsheng's voice carried an elusive meaning, like the wind, like clouds, like the elusive Void Realm itself—free, transcendent, unrestrained.

"Not an attack, not a defense, but the ultimate of escape techniques, the step of the Void Realm."

"Wherever a thought reaches, the body is there. Ignoring ordinary seals, traversing ten thousand layers of space, lurking between reality and illusion, hiding traces between existence and non-existence."

"Cultivated to Minor Achievement, one can avoid fatal calamities, escape trapped situations, walk on the edge of the battlefield, watch the tiger fight without hurting oneself—but remember, it is not just a technique for saving one's life."

The voice rose slightly here:

"Cultivated to Major Achievement—"

His voice suddenly heightened, carrying a fascinating freedom and transcendence, as if describing a dream that was within reach yet unreachable:

"In the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, there is nowhere one cannot go! In the Myriad Heavens and Worlds, there is no secret one cannot explore! In the long river of time, there is no scenery one cannot observe!"

"It is your 'path,' your 'retreat,' and also your 'advance'."

"Advance to attack, retreat to defend, walking the Myriad Heavens, survival is paramount—because only by living can one walk further, see higher, and achieve... greater things."

The three Legacies, the three streams of light, circled, intertwined, and resonated in Burial Son's Sea of Consciousness—

The 'Ten Fiends Treasure Technique: Gu' was "Power," the axe to open the heavens, the edge to cut through all obstacles, the Sharp Weapon for conquering all directions.

The 'Void Myriad Laws Record' was "Dao," the source of creation, the fundamental wisdom to understand the world and shape the world, the cornerstone for seeking the Dao of longevity.

The 'Great Void Technique' was "Path," the wings of freedom, the guarantee to walk freely and explore infinite possibilities in these vast Myriad Heavens, the boat to witness thousands of sceneries.

The three complemented each other, indispensable—together they constructed a…

Path to the heavens, glorious yet full of thorns, leading directly to the pinnacle of the Void Realm Dao.