With knitted brows and a pensive expression, Wei Wuyin watched the two older versions of himself float into the sky, exiting out of the Myriad Yore Continent’s space into the vast Dark Void. Their speed was exceptionally fast, yet their movements didn’t disturb the slightest trace of mana or essence in the world.
They were deliberately exerting a degree of self-control, avoiding damage to the continent. Wei Wuyin subconsciously looked at the Deep-Violet Lunar Roses—Dai Lyn’s favorites. Despite the lack of the crystallized continent, Wei Wuyin clutched at the place where the Myriad Yore Continent usually would be.
He felt his heart groan in indescribable pain, torn asunder by his past.
While he had never told anyone, when he experienced Kratos’ Mortal Star Formation Tribulation, causing him to experience all his first with two divergent memories, he had held out the strongest hope that, should his cultivation base reach a high enough level, he would be able to overturn the heavens and revive Dai Lyn, his older brother, and his parents.
The moment he learned of the Heavenly Daos’ ability to alter the course of time, bringing a Blessed back to life, his hope bloomed to its limits. If the Heavenly Daos could do so, then if he became strong enough, couldn’t he?
The core reason propelling his desire to maximize his foundation, risk his life by taking so many borderline suicidal risks, and grow in strength heavily laid in that hopeful desire. His four Astral Souls felt the same; they struggled to bring their power to the greatest, with Kratos working the hardest out of the four.
But these two versions of himself, particularly the debonair Wei Wuyin, who’s as composed and dignified as an Immortal noble, was unable to perform this feat despite his Earthly Saint Cultivation Base, despite overcoming this ridiculous tribulation!
Moreover, the scarred, violence-harboring Wei Wuyin had lost his Su Mei.
“We.”
In the Myriad Yore Continent, she followed him into the unknown without the slightest hesitation. She followed his whim and wants without offering a single objection. She stayed beside him with complete and total trust. He couldn’t lose her, or Bai Lin, or Du Ling, or Mei Mei.
He just couldn’t.
It took a long while before he calmed down. Up above, the sky was as serene as it always had been. Wei Wuyin was a mortal; the two versions of himself were Ascended beings and certainly not ordinary beings of their level. Their speed of movement vastly exceeded Wei Wuyin’s perception.
He could only wait until they’d decided on a victor because they refused to cause the slightest bit of damage to the Myriad Yore Continent despite it likely being a mere manifestation conjured by this so-called River of Time. It was clear that these Wei Wuyin, regardless of their cultivation bases, were unable to escape from their emotions.
He felt oddly comforted by this; the thing he feared most was losing his Original Heart after cultivating to a supreme level of power, growing distant and uncaring as he aged. While he wasn’t too old, the experience of age and time was relative. While these versions of Wei Wuyin might be able to live for tens of thousands of years, to him and them, doubling their age was a tremendous period.
Soon, Wei Wuyin felt two auras descend from above. One of them was dissipating slowly, and the other was extremely powerful, enveloped by Mystic Power. Wei Wuyin didn’t feel the aura of unfathomability from the roaring power; his eyes contracted slightly.
“He lost?” Wei Wuyin was thoroughly shocked when two figures breached the Sky Layer of the Myriad Yore Continent. When those figures descended, Wei Wuyin’s confusion grew.
The clothed Wei Wuyin looked entirely unharmed, his saber at his waist, his eyes as bright and lively as the day he was born, but his aura was at the Demi-Mortal Lord! As for the scarred version of himself, his mouth as foul as his bloody aura, that Wei Wuyin’s life aura was dissipating. There was a dissatisfied expression on the scarred Wei Wuyin’s face.
The scarred Wei Wuyin had lost!
They both landed, and the scarred Wei Wuyin wobbled slightly, clearly having suffered extremely severe injuries. However, Wei Wuyin couldn’t find any sign of damage on his body, simply sensing his life force dispersing bit by bit.
“It didn’t fucking matter anyways,” the scarred Wei Wuyin sluggishly spat as he saw the young Wei Wuyin’s curiosity, concern, and confusion. He glanced at the clothed Wei Wuyin, his eyes glinting with a wisp of pity. “Guess I’ll leave it to you then.”
The clothed Wei Wuyin gave him an impassive sidelong glance and gently nodded. It was clear they didn’t just fight up there, likely discussing something important, and came to an agreement.
Soon, the Demi-Mortal Lord aura of the clothed Wei Wuyin regained its robust and mysterious aura of unfathomability, signifying his return to the Earthly Saint level. This transition was seamless, completely unlike a typical deliberate suppression of cultivation. It was as if he was genuinely at the Demi-Mortal Lord, losing all his powers of an Earthly Saint for a short period.
“Ugh! Cough! Shi-shit! Well, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have survived the Third Calamity anyways; who fucking cares.” The scarred Wei Wuyin coughed out a lung and a half, cursing as he kicked a nearby pebble a few inches to the side. He strutted about with obvious dissatisfaction on his face, weakly arriving at Dai Lyn’s grave. He tumbled into a half-hearted seating position.
“I won’t be able to see you again—I’m sorry.” Touching the petals with indescribable gentleness, the scarred Wei Wuyin’s eyes became wet, his expression grew slack, and the light in his eyes dimmed. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”
With the weakest of voices, he whispered something as he leaned towards the roses, his head drooping to the right as the last traces of lifeforce within his body faded. There was no Mark of Eden here, no second chance, merely his entire cultivation and solely that.
“…”
“…”
A long silence formed. The two remaining living Wei Wuyins were observing the deceased one, his hand littered with scars still touching the stem of a rose, his eyes dripping with tears that had only fallen after his death.
“This is the second time I’ve seen myself die,” the young Wei Wuyin remarked emotionally. How many people can say that?
“It doesn’t get any easier,” the clothed Wei Wuyin calmly stated. Those words were spoken like a man who had experienced this more than twice. Moreover, he was the one who caused at least one of those deaths.
“Do you know what’s different about his life?” The clothed Wei Wuyin suddenly asked.
Young Wei Wuyin’s eyes lowered, “He lost Su Mei.” Were the scars on his body…were they not a form of self-punishment and a reminder of his weakness?
The clothed Wei Wuyin shook his head, “He didn’t just lose Su Mei—he lost so much more.”
