The Despot of Old, unwilling but resigned, departed from that place. His form faded, becoming spectral until nothing remained. Beside the tempestuous Sea Wall, only five figures stood, Xuantuo among them.

“Retreat now,” Gu Dao boomed, his gaze fixed upon the raging vortex. “Even I must dedicate my full strength to these final echoes. You cannot hope to breach the gate to the Ancient God Realm this day. I only came to this conclusion myself a few suns ago.”

Xuantuo and his companions, witnessing the Despot’s dispirited departure, offered a silent bow to Gu Dao. They knew their limitations, understanding that this venture was beyond their reach. As they prepared to withdraw, Wang Lin rose and approached Xuantuo.

“Master,” Wang Lin spoke.

Xuantuo looked up, a gentle smile gracing his features. “My reincarnation draws near. If I emerge unscathed from the Ancient God Realm, I vow to protect my Master’s future vessel. Should I not return, may this ensure his safety.”

Wang Lin extended his hand, summoning a jade slip from the ether. He presented it to Xuantuo with utmost respect. Xuantuo accepted the slip but refrained from examining it. His gaze lingered on Wang Lin, and after a long moment, he spoke softly, “Protect yourself…”

Wang Lin nodded. Xuantuo closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them and turned. With Song Tian and the Ancient Dao Sovereign, he transformed into three streaks of light, vanishing into the distance.

Now, only Wang Lin and Gu Dao remained beside the Sea Wall, cloaked in a silence profound and deep. Time trickled by, and twilight descended. Barely half an hour remained until the opening. The Sea Wall’s tempest reached its zenith, its roaring now a deafening thunder. The vortex it generated spun with such incredible speed that it seemed frozen in place, an illusion of stillness that belied its true, terrifying velocity.

The vortex began to consume the waters surrounding the Sea Wall, pulling them in ravenous gulps. As the sea rushed towards the swirling void, the Sea Wall diminished in size, its boundaries rapidly contracting.

“When the last drop of water is swallowed, the Ancient God Realm will open,” Gu Dao intoned, his voice cutting through the cacophony. “I seek to enter the Ancient God Realm to restore my wife’s life. What drives you?”

Wang Lin asked, watching as the vortex inexorably devoured the sea.

“An answer,” Gu Dao replied, turning to Wang Lin. “I inherited the memories of my ancestor, the Ancient One. Within those memories lies a lingering doubt. I seek to resolve that uncertainty, to transform conjecture into truth. I have waited for this day for an age. Your arrival is the key to unlocking this answer!”

“An answer…” Wang Lin murmured.

“Finding it may allow me to leave the lands of the Ancient Tribe, to journey wherever my heart desires,” Gu Dao confessed, a shadow of longing in his eyes. “You possess the head of the Ancestor Immortal, and you must have seen it for yourself: the Ancestor Immortal died peacefully, without suffering. The Ancient One, too, is dead. I felt his death within his memories – fraught with hesitation, disbelief, and ultimately, acceptance. They both sacrificed their lives to pursue an answer, leaving behind a legacy for their respective tribes, perhaps as a form of protection.”

The vortex continued its relentless consumption, and the Sea Wall was now less than half its original size. Soon, all the water would be gone.

“The Ancient One and the Ancestor Immortal discovered a secret they could scarcely believe. They questioned, they doubted, and in the end, they sought the truth even at the cost of their own lives. Now, I too, must seek the answer,” Gu Dao declared, turning his gaze back to the shrinking Sea Wall.

Wang Lin remained silent. The remaining time ebbed away. As the last of the Sea Wall’s waters vanished into the swirling vortex, the roaring did not diminish. Before Wang Lin and Gu Dao, where the Sea Wall had once stood, the nine towering pillars radiated with blinding light. The gate to the Ancient God Realm, forged from their collective power, slowly began to open!

The instant it cracked ajar, a wave of energy pulsed outwards, spreading across the desolate basin with unimaginable speed, engulfing the lands of the Ancient and Immortal Tribes in a single, earth-shattering surge. The wind ceased its song, and the three streaks of light carrying Song Tian and his companions hung frozen in the sky. On the earth below, every living being – mortals and cultivators, ancient tribesman and immortal – froze mid-motion, suspended in an eternal moment. Rivers stood still, fires held their forms, everything was held in stasis, forever frozen in place. Even the rain that fell upon the Extreme Ancient lands hung suspended in the air, each drop a tiny, arrested tear.

Across the Immortal lands, the Despot of Old, the twins, the Immortal Emperor, countless cultivators, mortals, and beasts stood motionless. The flow of the five elements, the very laws of existence, were arrested in that instant. The Immortal-Astral Continent fell silent.

Only at the heart of the desolate basin did the gate of nine pillars continue its deliberate opening. As it swung fully wide, a kaleidoscope of colours erupted from within, revealing a portal to an unknown realm.

“This opening… it is different from those that came before,” Gu Dao mused, observing that the energy contained in the wave of power was capable of stopping all beings lower than the Transcendent Realm. The Ancient Path’s eyes flashed with an otherworldly light. Without the slightest hesitation, he surged past Wang Lin and darted towards the radiant, nine-hued portal that yawned open before them. He vanished within, swallowed by the swirling colors, leaving no trace behind.

Now, only Wang Lin stood before the gateway to the Ancient God Realm. He closed his eyes, then opened them once more, his gaze resolute. Step by step, he approached the threshold and passed within. The moment Wang…
The frozen world within the Ancient God Realm shuddered to life as Lin entered. Back on the Immortal Astral Continent, an unusual phenomenon occurred, though almost everyone remained oblivious. Not a single cultivator, member of an Ancient clan, or even the mighty Grand Empyreans noticed the loss of a mere ten breaths of time. These ten breaths had been stolen from the very fabric of existence: from heaven and earth, from the five elements, from every mortal, cultivator, clansman of the Ancient, and even from the eight Grand Empyreans. A strange power had seemingly drawn away ten breaths from everything on the Immortal Astral Continent, vanishing with them into the heart of the Ancient God Realm’s gate.

As the Immortal Astral Continent returned to its normal flow, the nine pillars within the desolate basin crumbled instantly, erupting in a blinding light that engulfed the heavens before disappearing entirely. With the demise of the nine pillars, the gateway to the Ancient God Realm vanished as well, leaving no trace of its former presence. As the central vortex of the desolate basin faded, a sound like the roar of the ocean surged forth. Limitless torrents of water gushed from the swirling depths, cascading down upon the land like torrential rain. The water poured down, and a thundering sound echoed across the basin. After several hours, the desolate basin was once again an endless sea. The waves crashed upon the shore, their roar fading into the familiar rhythm of the ocean.

Everything was as it had been before. The Immortal lands were restored, as were the Ancient lands. The previous stillness had passed, even within the Black Stone City of the Prime Responsible lineage, where two figures lingered within an elegant courtyard. The dwelling was small, with simple furnishings, yet a feeling of warmth pervaded the air. Upon the bed lay an elderly woman, her face etched with wrinkles, though her youthful beauty was still faintly visible. Beside her stood a woman clad in white, her face hidden from view. Only her cascade of beautiful hair was visible, falling down her back. A profound sorrow hung about her, evoking a deep sense of pity in those who might behold her. Like a fish in a watery abyss, she could not cry; but if one were to scoop up a handful of water and taste it, they might taste the salt of her tears.

“East Regret… I am going to join Aunt Chang…” the old woman spoke softly, her voice filled with reluctance. “Do not cry… After I am gone, you will be all alone… You are different from me; I am just an ordinary clan member, my lifespan is limited… But you possess the Ancient bloodline; you can cultivate… You… you must take care of yourself.” She was Song Zhi. Song Zhi was merely a common member of the Ancient clan, and her five-hundred-year lifespan had reached its limit.

“I know that you carry a story within you…” she continued. “I have often seen you alone, shedding tears as you gazed at the sky, lost in thought… I even remember when I told you about the events in the Ancient Dao Imperial City, about a man named Wang Lin and his story with Li Muwan, you smiled sadly and faintly.”

“East Regret…” the old woman gazed at the young woman who had grown up beside her. “Promise me, if you cannot forget, do not force yourself to suffer.” She would never forget the expression on East Regret’s face, the dazed look and the melancholy, when she had first uttered the name Wang Lin. She also remembered, five hundred years ago, on the journey back with Wang Lin, he had told her not only the story of Li Muwan but also the tale of a woman named Li Qianmei.

“After reincarnation… East Regret, Li Qianmei, are they the same person?” the old woman did not speak the words aloud. Instead, she looked at the beautiful woman before her and slowly closed her eyes.