Now that the Great Calamity of Heaven-and-Earth has reached a certain stage, Lin Moyu understood his identity well: he was both a calamity-bearer and the Heaven-and-Earth Public Enemy. Driven by the Heaven-and-Earth Rules, he would have countless enemies across Heaven-and-Earth. The moment he returned to Chaos, trouble would likely come without end. Of course, he wasn't afraid—he was simply too lazy to lift a hand. For ordinary trouble, the Undying Spirit Soldiers were enough. If a Supreme or a Quasi-Supreme came knocking—and not just one—there would be some minor hassle. So, raising another enforcer wasn't a bad idea. In the end, he just didn't want to do it himself. Lin Moyu chuckled and mocked himself.
At his command, the Wildshade Insects regrouped and flew off into the distance. The Heaven-and-Earth Rules did indeed want him dead. This time, by smashing the space channel and casting him into this special spatial crevice, they had clearly chosen the location on purpose. This was one of the lairs where Wildshade Insects appear. Many special spacetime crevices exist between Heaven-and-Earth; most contain no living beings, but a few harbor creatures—each one extremely powerful, dangerous, and extraordinarily peculiar. This particular crevice happened to hold a great number of Wildshade Insects; what he'd encountered was only one swarm. Now that these Wildshade Insects had become Undying Spirits, no one but himself could tell—and he could use them to find other Wildshade Insects.
Though they carry the word "insect," Wildshade Insects are not of the Insect Clan. They are birthed by Heaven-and-Earth itself and unrelated to the insect race. They possess a contact method unique to their kind. Because they constantly shuttle among spacetime layers, revolving ceaselessly within a grand wheel of spacetime, it is very hard to find them by ordinary means—whether by eye or by soul-sense. Only when they discover an enemy do they show a projection in real space that can be seen, even as they continue shuttling. Their own kind, however, can easily locate one another.
Lin Moyu now used Wildshade Insects to find Wildshade Insects. Only he could employ such a method; even Heaven-and-Earth likely hadn't expected someone could resurrect and control them. His techniques had already slipped free of Heaven-and-Earth's constraints, relying on his own Undying Dao to form a world unto itself; when he cast a technique, even Heaven-and-Earth could not interfere. As Undying Spirits, the Wildshade Insects were likewise beyond Heaven-and-Earth's control.
Following his Wildshade host, Lin Moyu soon found another swarm. Ahead, nothing could be seen—but the Undying Spirits sent back information: there was a swarm ahead, likewise one million strong. Even with the Undead Eye, he detected nothing; they were not in this spacetime, and even their soul-flames could not be seen. Only if he continued to approach and drew their notice would they lock onto him and project into real space to be seen. But since he knew they were here, it was easy to handle. With a sweep of his hand, the World-Scorching Fire flew out; centered on where that swarm existed, it instantly became a sea of flame spanning a trillion li.
Using the World-Scorching Fire is the best way—bar none—to deal with Wildshade Insects. They have no resistance to it. Once they return from the spacetime cycle to real space, they are burned to ash in an instant, unable to last even half a breath. In another spacetime layer, this swarm had no idea a mortal danger had already appeared in real space. Soon, finishing a cycle of shuttling, they returned to real space—and in the instant they appeared, they turned to ash, without a single exception. Their feeble souls gave them no resistance whatsoever to the World-Scorching Fire, not even for a tenth of a second. Thus a million Wildshade Insects died, silently and easily—the terror even Supremes speak of, dispatched so simply.
Soon, the World-Scorching Fire shifted into the Undying Fire, and the freshly slain Wildshade Insects were converted into Undying Spirits to keep working for Lin Moyu, searching for nearby companions. With two swarms, the efficiency rose markedly; they split up, and Lin Moyu produced a soul replica to move with them. To deal with swarms, he needed only the World-Scorching Fire—no great battles—making it effortless for him. Swarm after swarm was burned away and converted into Undying Spirits; two became four, four became eight. The number of Wildshade swarms under his command grew and grew, and efficiency kept climbing.
"Master, even with a Wildshade Broodmother, at most you can pin down only one of them," said the Primal Chaos Gem.
Lin Moyu understood the implication. In the Primal Chaos Gem's view, given his current strength, a Wildshade Broodmother wasn't necessary; there was no need to waste so much time here. Pinning "one of them" was actually the last-resort approach; the Broodmother had another target.
Lin Moyu smiled softly; he had his own plan.
The Primal Chaos Gem thought for a moment. "A Wildshade Broodmother has stronger control over spacetime. Master, you intend…"
"Yes," Lin Moyu said. "He used a Small World to shackle me; I should have a countermeasure."
The Primal Chaos Gem understood: Lin Moyu wanted to exploit the Wildshade's traits to take back the Small World that the Calamity Supreme had removed. Against the Calamity Supreme, a Wildshade King wouldn't suffice; only a Wildshade Broodmother had a chance. Yet the Gem still didn't quite get it. "Master actually doesn't need to go to all this trouble—just act directly. Even if those are your friends and family, killing them isn't an issue. So long as you win in the end, and your elder sister becomes a Transcendent, then with a Time Essence Stone and a Transcendent's control over the Heaven-and-Earth Rules, you can restore that Small World from another time node—and your friends will revive with it."
His thinking was simple: don't overthink it—kill first, then figure out revival. As long as you're the final victor, resurrection isn't hard. In the worlds he'd seen, many Transcendents did exactly that; threats of this sort were useless.
Lin Moyu smiled faintly and said nothing. The Primal Chaos Gem wasn't truly a living being; it took life and death lightly—if unconvinced, fight—and felt little emotion. Lin Moyu was different; he was a living person. Even knowing they could be revived, he might not be able to bring himself to slaughter Meng Anwen and the others. Moreover—
"What if he erases every trace that they ever existed?" Lin Moyu said. "Don't forget, he excels in the Dao of Time—and he may not have only one Time Essence Stone."
The Primal Chaos Gem was stunned. Lin Moyu was right—what if? It wasn't impossible; it had happened before. Even Transcendents are not omnipotent; there are some they cannot revive.
"So," Lin Moyu said, "I must prepare multiple paths. Kill then revive is only the last, helpless option."
Once turned into Undying Spirits, the Wildshade Insects became traitors to their kind. Led by them, the number of swarms under Lin Moyu's control grew ever larger. When the count exceeded a hundred swarms, Lin Moyu decisively ordered them to fuse into a Wildshade King.
A hundred Wildshade swarms buzzed as they began to merge. (Later Lin Moyu would learn that it need not be a hundred; more than ten could merge, but the result would be weak. Only with a full hundred complete swarms—one hundred million in total—would the merged Wildshade King be in its strongest state.) Fusion is instinct to the Wildshade, though normally they won't use it; only facing a powerful enemy and an existential threat do they passively trigger it. Now, under Lin Moyu's control, they fused proactively. During fusion, the swarms entered another spacetime layer and halted their shuttling, entering a state where ordinary methods could not strike them. The process went smoothly; in moments, it was done.
A colossal insect over ten thousand meters long appeared—the billion-strong host had become a single, massive, utterly transformed king. The Wildshade King exuded a strange aura—now strong, now faint—threaded through different spacetime layers, flickering in and out.
"Likely not many in Heaven-and-Earth have ever seen a Wildshade King," Lin Moyu murmured.
"In our time plenty saw one," Chaos-Seed interjected, "but most who did were killed by it. This thing is scary."
Lin Moyu studied the King closely. Though still a Wildshade, its every inch and every ability had changed. Communing with its soul, he obtained some information: the Wildshade King possessed a faint consciousness beyond mere instinct—still short of true intelligence, but at least able to express simple intent.
Its body existed simultaneously in multiple spacetime layers. That the flesh could lie in different layers he could understand—but if a cultivator did this, the body would swiftly collapse. How could flesh in different spacetimes join into a whole? Yet the Wildshade King could. Its body was subdivided into over a thousand regions, each in a different spacetime, connected to each other in an uncanny way. If one region were struck and destroyed, the rest would be unaffected; that damaged region could recover within a short time in another spacetime layer. In other words, to kill the Wildshade King, one had to destroy most of its body at the same time—and those parts lie in different regions and different spacetimes, requiring power that can pierce multiple layers at once. That is far too difficult—almost impossible.
Not just the body—its soul was the same, though slightly less extreme, split among ten different spacetime layers. Only if more than half its souls were destroyed would it fall.
Lin Moyu realised that using the World-Scorching Fire against ordinary Wildshade had been a brilliantly wise choice. If he'd faced a Wildshade King, the World-Scorching Fire would have been blunted—at best injuring without killing. If Little Tree were still here, then with Little Tree's mastery over spacetime combined with the World-Scorching Fire, there might be a chance to slay a King. This was why the Wildshade King gave Supremes headaches; ordinary Supremes could do nothing about it. Conversely, a Wildshade King killing him was also impossible. He could stand there and let it hit him, and it still couldn't move him an inch.
Beyond existing in multiple spacetimes, the Wildshade King's offensive power far exceeded that of the ordinary kind. Without any technique at all, its basic attacks could kill a top-tier Perfect expert and harm a Supreme. It had another power as well: commanding ordinary Wildshade. As the king among them, it could command Wildshade within a certain range. Tiny they might be, but their hierarchy was clear.
With the King's emergence, there was no need to search one by one. At its command, nearby Wildshade swarms would deliver themselves to the door. Its summoning range was vast—beyond Lin Moyu's expectations—though he didn't know the exact scope; not even the King itself truly did. In its soul there was a gigantic net; when Wildshade appeared within the net, it could sense them and issue orders. Thus, at its command, swarms kept arriving—serving themselves up even faster than before.
The Wildshade ranks under Lin Moyu continued to swell. In just a few days he had gathered another hundred swarms and fused a second Wildshade King. Lin Moyu's goal was a Wildshade Broodmother, which required a hundred Wildshade Kings; he was still far from the target. For his plan, he didn't mind spending some time; by his estimate, in at most a few years he could assemble a Broodmother.
"I should thank the Heaven-and-Earth Rules for sending me here," Lin Moyu said blithely. Fortunately the rules had no consciousness; if they did, they'd be furious at his words.
"Within Heaven-and-Earth, everything has two sides," said the Primal Chaos Gem.
"By that logic," Lin Moyu laughed, "there's no duality outside Heaven-and-Earth?"
"Thus far," said the Primal Chaos Gem, "everything I've seen outside Heaven-and-Earth is deathly still—no duality at all. Without exception, every Transcendent who left Heaven-and-Earth died in the Life-Forbidden Zone—no survivors, no second side. Within Heaven-and-Earth there is always a sliver of life; in the Life-Forbidden Zone there is none. When Transcendents realise their Heaven-and-Earth must one day end, they exhaust every method to extend its lifespan. As the effect wanes, they can only move forward—and there are only two roads: the Life-Forbidden Zone or the Heaven-and-Earth Wall. But no matter who you are, you cannot brute-force the Heaven-and-Earth Wall—not even the Po-Cang Emperor. So they have only one path left: enter the Life-Forbidden Zone. After making every preparation and even laying out fallback plans, they step in resolutely—and without exception, all perish. Every fallback they arranged fails. At the moment of their fall, the Heaven-and-Earth they refined and ruled collapses with them, becoming world remnants. Thus, in what I have seen outside Heaven-and-Earth, there is no duality—only one outcome."
"The longer one lives, the less one wants to die; the higher one climbs, the more one craves to keep ascending," Lin Moyu said. "I think those Transcendents know there is still a road ahead."
"Yes," said the Primal Chaos Gem. "The Po-Cang Emperor once said, 'I have seen the summit—just one step remains; I will cross it.' He tried—and failed. That sentence told everyone: from a Transcendent to the peak, one step remains. But that step lies within the Life-Forbidden Zone—a death-chasm that blocks all."