Chapter 53
Instead of responding to Ling Xu's sincere and warm gratitude, Huan Zheng raised his right index finger—then lazily waved it from side to side, like a teacher reminding his student that the lesson was not yet over, even though the heart had already begun to bloom.
"You know, Liu Xin," he said, his voice still drowsy, yet carrying a tone beneath it that was more serious, heavier—like a bell struck not too hard, but whose vibrations lingered long in the air, "although the Supreme Dao realm is only divided into five, the process of ascending from Seed to Root, from Root to Branching Vines, from Branching Vines to Leaves and Fruits, and from Leaves and Fruits to Dew—it is not like the methods of cultivation you have known all this time. There are no fragments to collect, no Longitude to perfect, no crystals to fuse with life-and-death torment."
He paused for a moment, letting his words settle in the air like mist slowly turning into rain, then continued in a voice that suddenly grew deeper, heavier—like a rumble restrained behind a mountain ready to erupt at any moment.
"In the Supreme Dao Seed, Liu Xin, one can already alter any kind of concept or abstraction that exists within a multiverse," said Huan Zheng, and when the word "concept" left his lips, the air around them seemed to tremble—as if the walls of reality suddenly realized they were being discussed by a being who now held the right to revise them, "by revising what is recorded within those abstractions or concepts. And these concepts or abstractions—pay close attention, because this is important—are the information or foundation that give birth to all forms of meaning."
He raised his palm, and above it, he began forming a pattern—not a pattern of light as he usually did, but a pattern of darkness, of nothingness, a pattern made from the space between spaces, from time between time, from meaning between meanings.
"Take the concept of space, for example," he continued, his voice growing softer, more careful—like someone opening an ancient coffin untouched for decades, "this concept explains everything related to space, from why it exists to why it does not. And these concepts or abstractions, Liu Xin, existed long before the chaotic realm was organized."
Ling Xu frowned—or at least tried to, though the bandages on his head made the movement feel strange, like moving muscles long unused.
"The chaotic realm?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity he could not hide, like a child hearing a new word for the first time and immediately wanting to know its meaning, even though it was already midnight.
Huan Zheng let out a sigh—a sigh that sounded like someone who knew this question would come and had prepared the answer long ago, merely waiting for the right moment—then replied in his usual lazy tone.
"The chaotic realm is the domain where all destruction, disorder, and everything resides. The origin of the current universe, Liu Xin. A place where the concepts of space and time still collide like two waves that can never merge, where cause and effect still intertwine shamelessly, where everything possible and impossible happens simultaneously, and no one can predict what will emerge from that chaos next."
He paused, yawned, then added in a voice that suddenly grew lighter, more relaxed—like someone reminiscing about a beautiful yet slightly boring childhood vacation.
"But you don't need to worry about the chaotic realm right now, Liu Xin. Because in the Supreme Dao Seed realm we have just reached, the concepts we can alter are limited only to the universe where we first transformed into Supreme Dao cultivators. For us, that is the universe where the fifth sky city exists, where we underwent the Trial of Hiding Within Corpses, where you lost both your eyes and gained three in return."
Ling Xu's third eye throbbed faster.
Not out of fear, but from uncontrollable excitement, as he began imagining what he could do with the ability to alter the concept of space in his original universe—imagining how he could revise the foundation that defines "distance," so that enemies fleeing farther would instead draw closer, or revise the concept of "time," so that the final seconds of his mother's violators would feel like thousands of years.
"And to ascend from Seed to Root?" he asked, his voice slightly hurried, impatient—like someone who had just found a treasure map and could not wait to set sail.
Huan Zheng, hearing that tone, smiled faintly—a smile oddly similar to that of an older brother watching his younger sibling become addicted to something dangerous yet unable to forbid it—then answered in a soft yet firm voice.
"Two ways, Liu Xin. Only two ways. First, by claiming any talent or potential within a multiverse. Second, by seizing the talent possessed by other Supreme Dao cultivators. There is no third way. No shortcuts. No magical potion you can drink while sleeping."
In the silent meditation chamber, among walls of light now pulsing in rhythm with both their heartbeats, Huan Zheng continued his explanation in a voice that grew deeper, heavier—like a priest reciting scripture in the oldest temple, where dust falls from cracked ceilings and candles burn low.
"Of course, Liu Xin, to absorb talent or potential from a multiverse—especially one where other Supreme Dao cultivators exist—a Supreme Dao cultivator will inevitably come into conflict with them. It is unavoidable. Because talent is the source of power in this realm, just as Star fragments are in the Star Foundation realm, as Longitude are in the Heavenly Longitude realm, as crystals are in the Vast Cosmos realm. Without talent, you will never ascend to Root, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you meditate, no matter how sincerely you pray to those dead Gods."
He stopped, looking at Ling Xu with eyes no longer lazy, no longer half-closed, but fully open—clear, like the surface of a lake at dawn, undisturbed by wind, human, or beast.
"And that is why, Liu Xin, it is not uncommon for organizations of Supreme Dao cultivators to form across countless universes—because they cannot be confined. And just as often, from the formation of such groups, multiversal wars erupt between two or more factions caught in conflict."
To be continued…