The moment Zhen's foot crossed the threshold of the Echoing Realm, reality seemed to unravel.
It was like stepping into a dream woven from the fragments of countless broken worlds. The sky rippled with layers of drifting memories—some his own, others alien and ancient. Mountains floated upside down. Rivers flowed backward. The laws of causality danced in fractured loops.
Liuyan and Qiyue followed closely behind, their figures shimmering as the realm tried to process their presence.
"This place…" Liuyan whispered, her hand brushing through the mist that coiled around them. "It echoes with time itself."
Zhen's eyes narrowed. "Be on guard. This isn't just another realm. It's a trial. And it's alive."
Suddenly, a tremor passed beneath their feet.
The ground didn't shake—instead, the time beneath them jolted, skipping forward. Zhen saw his own hand move before his mind registered the command. He blinked, and in that moment, three illusions of himself flickered and vanished.
"Time distortion," Qiyue said, calmly analyzing the shift. "We're being fragmented."
Zhen raised his hand, and the dark-golden light of the Multiverse Core pulsed in his palm, stabilizing the flow of energy within him.
Just then, a voice drifted in—soft, like a lullaby sung by a dead god.
> "Who dares awaken the Echo of Possibility?"
The mist before them parted. A massive gate appeared, forged from starlight and bone, its surface engraved with shifting runes that pulsed like heartbeats. Each beat sent out ripples—echoes of battles long forgotten, screams of fallen legends, and the laughter of mad gods.
A trial was coming.
And it would test more than strength.
---
Part I: The Shattered Corridor
The gate opened.
Zhen stepped forward. The corridor beyond looked infinite, lined with shattered mirrors. Each mirror reflected a different version of himself—some noble, others monstrous. One showed him as a tyrant draped in blood-red robes, commanding a legion of void beasts. Another showed him cradling a dying Liuyan, tears streaming down his face.
Qiyue walked beside him silently. Her gaze flickered to one mirror where she was alone—Zhen and Liuyan turned to stone behind her.
"Are these… possible futures?" she asked.
Zhen nodded. "Or echoes. Paths that could have been, or might yet be."
From the shadows, a figure emerged.
It was Zhen—but older. Colder. His eyes burned with power, but also with disillusionment.
"You think you can bear the weight of infinite paths?" the echo said. "Prove it."
He attacked.
Without hesitation, Zhen blocked the first blow. The echo wielded the same sword, the same technique—but refined beyond his current self. Every strike threatened to unravel his form.
Liuyan summoned waves of divine flame to shield him. Qiyue launched spears of pure dreamlight to fracture the surrounding distortion.
But this fight was Zhen's alone.
He unleashed the [Epoch Severing Blade], merging it with the [Heaven's Pulse Technique], striking not at his opponent—but at the thread of time binding this echo. The realm screamed.
With a final burst, the mirror shattered. The echo dissolved into runes, absorbed into Zhen's chest.
A system prompt rang in his ears.
> [You have absorbed a Temporal Echo of Yourself.]
[Trait Gained: "Future Self Resonance" — You can now access fragments of skills from possible futures under extreme pressure.]
[System Ranking Updated.]
---
Part II: The Field of Forgotten Names
As they progressed, the corridor gave way to a field—endless, quiet, lit by floating nameplates. Each name glowed softly. Some burned bright. Others flickered, barely alive.
Liuyan stepped close to one.
"Liuyan, Flamebringer of the Lotus Realm—Status: Still Striving."
She frowned.
Zhen moved to another. His own.
"Zhen, Boundless Aspirant—Status: Undefined."
And then another caught his eye.
"Zhen, Destroyer of Realms—Status: Erased."
He turned sharply. That nameplate cracked and turned to ash the moment he touched it.
"This place catalogs the multiverse's memory of us," Qiyue said, awe in her voice. "Each name, a thread of fate."
Suddenly, the field trembled. Some of the nameplates burst, and out of the light emerged Wraiths of Possibility—twisted remnants of choices not made, regrets unfulfilled.
They attacked.
Liuyan's flames surged like a storm, burning through the wraiths. Qiyue danced between them, her dream-arrows piercing their cores.
Zhen raised his weapon. For a moment, he let the "Future Self Resonance" bloom. His body moved in tandem with a hundred possibilities. A thousand variations of the same strike converged into one devastating slash.
The field went still.
A new prompt appeared.
> [Trait "Temporal Awareness" has awakened.]
[You now perceive time slippage within a 30-meter radius.]
---
Part III: The Watcher Beyond the Hourglass
At the center of the Echoing Realm stood a spire formed from layered hourglasses. Each one leaked sands of time upward.
Perched atop it was a figure wrapped in robes that shimmered with galaxies.
"The Watcher," Liuyan said softly.
He turned. His eyes were clocks—ticking backward.
"You are not the first to reach this far," he said. "But perhaps… the last?"
He raised his hand, and the entire realm distorted.
Time loops began forming around Zhen, Liuyan, and Qiyue. The same moment repeated three times. Then four. Then a hundred.
Zhen gritted his teeth, resisting the collapse.
This wasn't just power. It was control over time itself.
Zhen's mind burned. He reached within himself, toward the Multiverse Core—and something answered.
> [Multiverse Core: Phase Two Resonance Achieved.]
[You may now declare a constant in an unstable realm.]
Zhen roared, "I am the singularity in this chaos!"
Light exploded from him. The loops shattered.
The Watcher recoiled.
Zhen surged forward, slashing with a blade that hummed with countless realities. The Watcher bled stardust, then fell from the spire.
Silence fell.
> [Echoing Realm Trial Complete.]
[System Rank Increased: Multiversal Node Access Granted.]
[New Realm Available: The Paradox Labyrinth.]
The world around them shifted again. What had once been a luminous forest of glowing silver trees now bled into a mosaic of scattered memories—some not even their own. Faces, voices, laughter, screams, all echoed in the distance like fragments of lives never lived, stitched together by an ancient, dreaming will.
Zhen stepped forward with narrowed eyes, the Runeflame Spear crackling with gentle embers in his grip. The ground beneath his feet shimmered like water, but each step felt solid, like walking across frozen light.
"Be careful," Liuyan warned softly, her voice like a bell chime amid the silence. "This is no longer part of the Echoing Realm's surface. We're in its subconscious."
Qiyue tilted her head. "You mean... the realm dreams?"
"Not quite dreaming," Liuyan replied, lips pressed into a frown. "It remembers. Everything. It pulls from the souls that step into it, weaving illusions from truth and truth from illusion. Some lose themselves here."
"I won't," Zhen said, his voice calm but firm.
Suddenly, the mist ahead parted, revealing a ruined temple floating amidst a sea of inverted waterfalls and spinning islands. The structure was composed of countless runes etched in starsilver, each one pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. A massive stone gate stood open, leading into darkness.
A whisper curled through the air:
"One who carries the Soulbrand... prove your name."
Zhen froze. The voice wasn't spoken aloud, but embedded directly into his spirit.
Liuyan grasped his arm. "It's targeting you."
"I know." Zhen took a deep breath and walked toward the temple. "Let's see what it wants to show me."
They entered the gate, and immediately the world around them dissolved into shadow. Not blackness, but the color of forgotten grief—deep and oppressive.
Then... a child cried out.
Zhen blinked.
Before him stood a village. Familiar. Too familiar.
Ash drifted from the sky like snow. Flames flickered from cracked windows. Bodies lay twisted on the ground—men, women, children—all bearing the same crest: the insignia of the Scarlet Meridian Sect.
"No," Zhen murmured. "This isn't real."
A younger version of himself sprinted through the smoke, eyes wide with terror. "Mother! Father!"
He remembered this.
He remembered everything.
Qiyue's hand gripped his tightly. "This is a trial. It's feeding you your worst pain."
Zhen clenched his jaw. "Then I'll overcome it."
The vision twisted again. Now, the scene showed him as a teenager—bound in chains in the sect's prison hall. His old master stood before him, sneering.
"You'll never amount to anything, Zhen. Trash like you has no place in the world of cultivators."
Zhen felt the words burn into his bones.
But instead of flinching, he stepped forward.
The illusion trembled.
With a sweep of his spear, Zhen shattered the vision. "I already proved them wrong."
The world around him collapsed into fragments, and the temple reformed around them. The voice returned.
"You do not run from your past... You wield it."
A staircase of light unfolded beneath their feet, spiraling upward toward a floating chamber surrounded by celestial runes.
As they ascended, the air grew heavier—not with danger, but destiny.
At the top was a hall of mirrors.
Each mirror reflected not their bodies, but their fates.
One showed Zhen as a tyrant, cloaked in darkness, ruling a galaxy with a bloodstained hand.
Another showed him as a martyr, pierced by blades, protecting Liuyan and Qiyue with a defiant smile.
Yet another showed him alone, seated on a throne of broken stars.
Qiyue's reflection showed her in a world made entirely of fire and song, while Liuyan's image walked amidst ruins, guiding lost souls like a goddess of death.
"This place doesn't lie," Liuyan whispered.
"No," Zhen agreed. "But it shows only possibilities. I choose what I become."
The mirrors shattered.
And in their place, a glowing orb rose from the floor. Within it pulsed a single word written in the ancient tongue of the Origin Realms:
"Ascend."
The energy surged through Zhen's body.
Something inside him responded—something buried deep within his soul.
The Runeflame Spear trembled.
A second core ignited within him, a paradoxical flame: the Flame of Echoes, born from countless timelines, from all his pasts and all his might-have-beens. It surged with knowledge, memories, and power.
Suddenly, Zhen found himself floating in a void. Alone.
Or so he thought.
Across from him, a version of himself stood—older, battle-worn, with an aura that shook the stars. This version wielded a blade forged from collapsing galaxies, and his eyes radiated a terrifying calm.
"You are not ready," the older Zhen said.
"Then test me."
They clashed.
The echo of Zhen's future fought with merciless precision, blades of possibility colliding with the spear of now.
Their battle was a storm, tearing through layers of the void.
Every strike taught Zhen something—a movement, a mindset, a truth.
Until he saw it.
A single opening.
He took it.
With a roar, he struck the older version through the chest.
Light exploded, and the vision dissolved.
Back in the chamber, Zhen knelt, gasping. But he was smiling.
He had overcome his future.
The orb before him shattered into stardust, and the runes etched into the temple walls began to burn with golden light.
Trial Passed. Soulbrand Recognized.
Liuyan helped him to his feet, her eyes shining with pride.
Qiyue placed a hand over his chest. "You did it."
Zhen looked upward. "We all did."
And above, the ceiling parted, revealing a path of constellations—leading deeper into the Echoing Realm, toward its true heart.
The three of them continued down the fractured path, guided only by the dim pulse of the glowing vines that laced the crystalline ground. The deeper they walked, the more surreal the world became. Colors began to bleed into one another, the line between dream and reality dissolving into an ever-thickening fog of mystery. The Echoing Realm lived up to its name—whispers of forgotten names, languages lost to time, and melodies from broken dynasties lingered in the air like ghosts.
Zhen's expression remained unreadable as he raised his hand toward a shattered pillar that floated sideways in the air. As he touched it, time flickered—briefly reversing the surrounding motion before snapping forward. "Time is broken here," he muttered. "But someone is watching. This isn't just a trial. It's a test of memory and destiny."
Liuyan stood behind him, brows slightly furrowed. Her fiery presence burned brightly even against the cold madness of this place. "You felt it too?" she asked. "The gaze… It's like something ancient is waiting for us to slip."
Qiyue was silent for a moment. Then, she turned and traced her fingers along a translucent wall that reflected not their current forms, but versions of themselves dressed in strange clothing, holding different weapons, bearing different scars. "I think this realm mirrors not just time, but possibility. Maybe… alternate paths."
Suddenly, the world cracked.
Not physically, but in sensation. A tremor swept through their minds as a sudden hum rose from deep within the broken sky. Threads of silver light laced the clouds, and from them descended a being cloaked in dream-mist—its form both majestic and decayed. It had no face, only a crown of rusted thorns and hollow light.
"Dream Eater," Zhen muttered instinctively, stepping protectively in front of the others. The System chimed in his mind:
> [Warning: Echo Guardian Detected – "Devourer of Unfulfilled Fates"]
[Trial Phase: Soul Fracture Initiated]
The creature did not attack immediately. Instead, it spoke, its voice echoing in thousands of layered tongues:
> "You who step into what was forgotten…
You who dare to awaken what should never stir…
Offer your regrets. Show me what you fear most."
Before they could react, the world split again—this time around them. Each of the three found themselves isolated in a mirror-dream, constructed from fragments of their own memories and nightmares.
---
Zhen's Trial
He stood alone in the ruins of the temple where he had first awakened the Multiverse System. But this version was darker, bloodier. Corpses of unknown warriors littered the ground. Flames devoured the sacred murals. A younger version of himself stood at the center—kneeling—his hands soaked in blood, his eyes hollow.
"You killed them," the younger Zhen said, his voice filled with contempt. "All for strength. For rank. For a throne that doesn't exist."
"I never asked for this," Zhen whispered, but his voice faltered.
"But you chose it," the reflection snapped. "You could have walked away. You didn't."
Zhen gritted his teeth. "I didn't come this far to apologize for surviving."
From the shadows, chains shot toward him—formed from the doubts he buried deep. They wrapped around his arms, chest, throat.
> [System Alert: Inner World Resistance Detected – Engaging Autonomous Willpower Lock]
He roared, not in fear, but defiance. A golden glow surged from his chest—the mark of the Celestial Rank pulsing. The chains shattered.
"Dreams don't bind me," he said, walking forward through the ruins. "They forge me."
---
Liuyan's Trial
She stood amidst a garden of fire. Her past self danced among the flames—laughing, proud, adored by the Phoenix Clan. Her mother's face appeared, warm and distant.
"You chose exile," her mother said. "You abandoned your bloodline."
"I chose truth," Liuyan replied. "I refused to be caged."
The garden began to burn itself out. Ashes rained like snow, and from them emerged a mirror of Liuyan—cold, emotionless, surrounded by false admirers, her power chained by tradition.
"Wouldn't it have been easier?" the false Liuyan asked. "To stay, to be worshipped, to never struggle?"
"Easier, yes," Liuyan said softly. "But dead inside."
She raised her hand, calling forth a spear of solar flame that pierced the illusion. "If I must burn, I will burn on my terms."
---
Qiyue's Trial
She wandered through a vast hall of silver mirrors, each reflecting a version of herself—child, warrior, spy, queen. The voices of her past lovers, victims, and rivals echoed from every surface.
"You were always the shadow," one voice sneered. "A whisper behind others' thrones."
"Born to serve," said another. "Never to rule."
She hesitated before a mirror that showed her future—crowned, but alone, her eyes empty. "Is this what I become if I continue down this path?"
From behind, her own voice answered, low and cold. "Only if you forget who you are."
Qiyue clenched her fists and shattered the mirror. "I walk the path of thorns," she whispered. "Not for power. For freedom."
---
Return to Reality
All three awoke simultaneously, gasping as their bodies jerked back into the real Echoing Realm. The dream-mist guardian roared in frustration, its form destabilized by their resistance.
"You are not children of fate," it hissed. "You are anomalies."
Zhen stepped forward, his body surrounded by rings of starlight and echoing fragments. "We are more than fate. We are the ones who will rewrite it."
The air trembled as he raised his hand. His weapon—now subtly changed—glowed with a new rune, one etched in a language even the System took a moment to interpret:
> [Authority Gained: Dreampiercer Sigil – Allows Partial Immunity to Mind-Altering Dimensional Constructs]
With a slash, Zhen tore through the guardian. It dissolved into crystalized fragments that whispered one final phrase before vanishing:
> "She waits… beneath the sleeping sun…"
The trial ended. The realm shifted.
In the distance, a vast temple rose—far larger than the fragments they had encountered before. Its gates pulsed with golden light, and the echoes around them fell silent.
The true heart of the Echoing Realm had revealed itself.
And something within was calling Zhen by name.
The mist thickened as Zhen, Liuyan, and Qiyue stepped beyond the moonlit gate. The world on the other side seemed stitched together from dreams and memories—floating stairways of petrified starlight, crumbling bridges that shimmered in and out of view, and twisted pillars humming with fragmented melodies.
Above them loomed an inverted palace suspended in the sky, its golden spires pointing toward the abyss beneath. Shattered constellations orbited around it like loyal sentries. Every breath they took was laced with the scent of old incense and scorched time.
Zhen's eyes sharpened. The system chimed softly:
[Echoing Realm – Core Layer Reached.]
[Accessing Final Trial: Echo of the Ancient Heart.]
A soft voice, neither male nor female, echoed in the void:
"Do you carry the weight of forgotten promises, or the fire to shape a new truth?"
Zhen did not answer aloud. He stepped forward.
The path unfurled before him—a bridge of silver fire leading to the heart of the sky-palace. As they approached, shadows coalesced—figures from their past. A faceless general with Liuyan's chains, a veiled woman who looked like Qiyue's mother, and a rune-covered child resembling Zhen himself, eyes wide with sorrow.
"These are not real," Qiyue whispered, though her steps faltered.
"They're fragments," Liuyan muttered, clenching her spear. "Echoes that test your soul."
But Zhen knew the realm was more than a test. It was a mirror. Every echo they faced forced them to confront choices long buried.
They fought through illusions that felt like truth—Liuyan battling her former self, corrupted and cold. Qiyue forced to face the dream of a peaceful world she had abandoned. And Zhen... he stood before the image of himself, crown of flame upon his brow, staring into the ruin of countless multiverses.
"Will you become what you were meant to destroy?" the illusion asked.
Zhen raised his hand, and his real self spoke with quiet conviction.
"No. I will rewrite that destiny."
With a burst of light, the illusions shattered. The palace doors opened.
Inside, a celestial sphere hovered—a sun that sang. Countless runes spiraled around it, creating music that touched even Liuyan's guarded heart and made Qiyue tremble with awe.
But it was incomplete. Three fragments were missing.
Zhen stepped forward. From his chest, the Rune of the First World emerged. Liuyan and Qiyue followed suit, their fragments shimmering into view. As they approached the sphere, the pieces responded, spinning faster, pulsing with harmony.
[Final Fragment Integration – Commencing.]
[Multiverse System Alignment Detected.]
[Ascension Triggered.]
Light exploded outward—not blinding, but embracing. It poured into their bodies, their minds, their souls.
Visions danced in their minds:
—Zhen standing at the center of countless worlds, a new authority rising behind his eyes.
—Liuyan reborn as a Star-Warden, protector of fate.
—Qiyue, weaving time into threads of power, becoming the Echo-Seer.
When the light faded, the sphere had vanished. In its place floated a crystalline seed.
"The Heart of the Echoing Realm," Liuyan whispered. "We've inherited its will."
But the sky cracked.
A ripple tore through the void, and from beyond the veil stepped a figure clad in robes of paradox—half light, half dark, his face ever-shifting.
"You passed the trials," he said, voice layered in a thousand languages. "But you've awakened something older than the System itself."
Zhen stepped forward. "Who are you?"
"I am the Warden of the First Echo. And your ascension has broken the lock that held the Forgotten Sovereigns."
Silence. The stars trembled.
"But you have a choice now," the Warden said. "Become the guardians of this seed... or let it fall into the hands of gods who would erase even memory itself."
Zhen looked to Liuyan. Then to Qiyue. They nodded without hesitation.
"We'll protect it," Zhen said. "Together."
The Warden smiled, then dissolved into motes of stardust.
As the Echoing Realm shifted once more, the trio stood taller, changed—not just stronger, but aware. A storm was coming. But now, they held in their hands the light to defy oblivion.
And so, with the Heart of the Echoing Realm pulsing between them, Chapter 57 came to an end—not with a final clash, but a vow etched into eternity:
"We will rise beyond echoes. We will forge the truth."