202: The Starting Point of Eternal Calamity: The Causal Loop

Chaos, boundless Chaos.

Fragments of time and space swept and raged like a blizzard, dimensions lost meaning here, Laws collapsed and reformed, enacting the most fundamental madness and disorder of the Universe.

This was the turbulence of time and space, the graveyard of myriad worlds, and also… the breeding ground for occasional miracles.

A faint speck of consciousness, almost completely annihilated, drifted with the current in this chaotic torrent.

It was too minuscule; compared to the spatiotemporal whirlpools that could swallow stars at will, it wasn't even dust.

Its light was dim, its structure unstable, as if it would completely disintegrate and merge into this eternal Chaos in the next second.

This was a wisp of a fragment that remained by extreme chance after Bottled Immortal Mo Yuan's consciousness scattered into billions of sequences.

It carried the most core obsession of "existence" and scattered memories, but had lost most of its power and cognition.

Who am I… Where am I… So noisy… So chaotic… The fragmented will instinctively struggled within the fragment, like a drowning person seeking air.

It instinctively resisted the fate of being assimilated and decomposed, seeking any possible crack of "order" in the endless Chaos.

It drifted for an unknown period, perhaps an instant, perhaps eons.

Finally, a relatively "calm" "stream," containing a faint but stable Law fluctuation, appeared at the edge of this violent turbulence.

Like a drowning man grasping at a straw, the fragment used its last bit of strength to violently break free from the tearing of the chaotic region and plunged into that "stream."

The "stream" enveloped it, warm and gentle, carrying it in a relatively stable direction.

Perception… was recovering.

The fragment "saw" the rapidly passing light and shadow fragments on both banks of the "stream"—these were the silhouettes of countless timelines, the joys and sorrows of all beings, the rise and fall of civilizations.

The information was so vast it could explode any sound consciousness, but this fragment merely absorbed it instinctively, unable to comprehend, only to feel.

Suddenly, an extremely faint line of Karma, yet one that caused a violent resonance in the fragment, extended from a tiny speck of light on the bank of the "stream"!

That resonance originated from the deepest part of the Soul, from the root of creation!

Han Li!

The fragment trembled violently; all information about this name in its remaining memory bank was instantly activated and illuminated!

Though incomplete, that profound connection could not be mistaken!

With almost no hesitation, following instinct and that powerful Karmic attraction, the fragment detached from the "stream" and, like a moth to a flame, violently crashed into that spatiotemporal speck of light emitting a faint resonance!

...Seven Mysteries Sect, at the foot of Mount Caixia.

A lean young man, dressed in coarse cloth and dark-skinned, was struggling up a steep mountain path, carrying a heavy bundle of firewood.

He was not old, about thirteen or fourteen, his face still showing childishness, his lips cracked from dehydration, but his eyes were exceptionally bright, revealing a resilience and vigilance far beyond his age.

His name was Han Li, an ordinary young man whose parents were farmers. By a stroke of luck, he was detected to have a Spiritual Root, which allowed him to join a Jianghu School like the Seven Mysteries Sect, working as the lowest-grade handyman, hoping for an illusory immortal destiny.

The forest where he was cutting firewood today was said to be unsafe; Disciples had mysteriously disappeared there before.

He was extra careful, holding a sharpened kindling knife, his ears perked, catching any unusual sounds in the forest.

Suddenly, a rustle came from the bushes behind him!

Han Li's hair stood on end; without thinking, he executed a clumsy but extremely agile donkey-roll to dodge aside!

Whoosh!

A fierce palm wind grazed his back and struck a tree opposite, leaving a clear palm print deeply embedded in the wood!

A middle-aged man with a sinister expression, dressed in the uniform of an Outer Sect Disciple of the Seven Mysteries Sect, emerged from behind the bushes, his eyes filled with cruel greed, like a cat toying with a mouse.

"Hmph, you little brat, quick reactions indeed!" The Disciple licked his lips. "Hand over that low-grade Spirit Stone you got this month, and then cut off an arm yourself, and Senior Brother here will spare your life, how about it?"

Han Li's heart pounded, his face pale, as he gripped his kindling knife tightly and gritted his teeth, "Senior Brother Zhang, Sect rules forbid harming fellow Disciples! That Spirit Stone is for my Cultivation; I absolutely cannot give it to you!"

"Rules?" Senior Brother Zhang sneered, approaching step by step. "In this desolate mountain wilderness, who would care if a handyman died? Rules are for the living! Refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit!"

He moved, lunging again, his speed extremely fast, palm winds howling, clearly intending to kill!

A trace of despair flashed in Han Li's eyes; the disparity in strength between them was too great; he was utterly powerless to resist!

It was at this critical juncture—

An extremely faint, formless and insubstantial stream of light, coming from beyond the heavens, faster than thought, instantly submerged into Han Li's forehead, which was about to be struck by the palm wind!

Han Li's body suddenly stiffened!

Senior Brother Zhang's sinister smile froze on his face. His palm, less than three inches from Han Li's forehead, was firmly blocked by an invisible yet incredibly tenacious force, unable to advance another inch!

"Wh-what is this?!" Senior Brother Zhang's face turned pale with fright. He tried to pull back, but found his hand seemed to be welded in the air, unable to Move!

At this moment, Han Li's eyes were filled with confusion, but deep within his pupils, tiny, cold Dao patterns of lightning flickered and vanished.

A fragmented but powerful memory fragment and a cold, efficient computational instinct instantly overlaid his original consciousness.

"Threat assessment: Qi Refinement Stage three Cultivator. Malice: High. Solution: Clear with maximum efficiency."

"Han Li" (dominated by the Mo Yuan fragment) slowly raised his head. His gaze was no longer the boy's panic, but an indifference like one looking down on ants.

He raised his hand, his index finger pointing forward with extreme casualness.

There was no spiritual energy fluctuation, no change in Move.

Senior Brother Zhang, however, was as if directly struck by an invisible giant hammer; his chest suddenly caved in, his eyeballs bulged, and without even a scream, he flew backward, breaking several large trees before collapsing limply to the ground, completely lifeless.

Instant kill!

"Han Li" stood silently in place, looking down at his finger, then at the corpse. A tiny trace of confusion flashed in his cold eyes, as if he didn't understand why he had done this, yet also felt it was perfectly natural.

Vast, fragmented memory information churned and impacted in his mind, bringing a severe headache, but also allowing him to quickly understand his current situation.

"Seven Mysteries Sect… Mo Juren… little green bottle…" Some key terms emerged, accompanied by a strong sense of crisis and… an indescribable urge to "correct" something.

He could not repeat the same mistakes.

He could not become Mo Juren's Disciple.

He could not walk that predetermined old path, full of thorns and betrayal.

An optimal solution, based on the Mo Yuan fragment's instincts and fragmented memories, was quickly generated.

He walked to Senior Brother Zhang's corpse, expressionlessly searched out a few low-grade Spirit Stones and a tattered "Evergreen Skill" chant, then turned without hesitation and walked away in the opposite direction from the Seven Mysteries Sect.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the trees, shining on the young man's determined yet cold face.

He was going to Yellow Maple Valley.

He was going to avoid all predetermined misfortunes.

He was going to… defy Heaven and change his destiny!

And this brand new step had already carved out a branch entirely different from the original timeline.

In the chaotic turbulence of time and space, a ripple, almost imperceptible, seemed to spread.

The strings of Karma had been plucked.

The eternal Reincarnation, here, silently, drew back its curtain.