Chapter 1844: A Certain Place

Is this realm to be abandoned?

Shi Hao sighed. Many were leaving, and he wondered what would remain in this era of declining laws. Would the world truly be devoid of all Dao and magic when the harshest of times arrived?

A gentle breeze blew as Shi Hao strolled forward, stepping on the yellowed leaves scattered on the ground.

“I’m leaving,” the little dog suddenly announced.

“Hmm?” Shi Hao was slightly startled, snapping out of his thoughts. Though fierce, cunning, and shrouded in mystery, the little dog had followed him for months, forming a bond. Its abrupt declaration caught him off guard.

“Where are you going?” Shi Hao asked.

“The Immortal Domain,” the little dog replied solemnly, its usual casual and ferocious demeanor replaced by a heavy-hearted tone, as if it had transformed into a creature of profound contemplation.

This demeanor was entirely unlike its usual self.

“Such seriousness doesn’t suit you,” Shi Hao remarked.

“Who can truly see through another? Who can conceal everything? This world is complex and chaotic. We laugh and play in the mortal dust, but in the end, we must all cross over,” the little dog muttered to itself.

Shi Hao was puzzled. Had something stirred the little dog’s emotions?

“Why the sudden decision to enter the Immortal Domain?” Shi Hao inquired.

“Perhaps that is my true destination. There are unresolved matters from the past—answers I must seek,” the little dog responded.

According to it, the era of declining laws was approaching, and the gates to the Immortal Domain would soon close, possibly for an entire epoch. If it didn’t enter now, the opportunity would be lost forever.

“Don’t you have enemies there?” Shi Hao reminded it. The so-called “human pets” it once spoke of had long since ascended to immortality. If they discovered its arrival, they would skin it alive.

“Death may await me, but I must go. I once followed the Immortal King of No End. His kindness cannot go unrequited,” the little dog answered.

Now, it no longer boasted of being an Immortal King itself. Instead, it spoke with the gravity of a seasoned scholar, shedding all frivolity and arrogance.

The Immortal King of No End, though born in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, had ventured into the Immortal Domain in pursuit of the pinnacle of the Great Dao, leaving behind certain contingencies to test certain truths.

Shi Hao was astonished upon hearing this. What had the Immortal King of No End sought to verify?

“He delved deeply into the Dao of Time. In his final years, he collaborated with the Immortal King of Reincarnation to study the cycles of time and the nature of reincarnation, seeking to uncover whether there existed some underlying pattern.”

“What pattern?” Shi Hao was intrigued.

“From the Fall of the Emperors to the Ancient Immortal Era, and now to the impending Great Reckoning—is this an ultimate cycle of reincarnation, or are certain individuals trapped within it?” the little black dog said gravely.

“What do you mean?” Shi Hao’s expression grew solemn. The topic was weighty and profound.

“From the Fall of the Emperors onward, epoch after epoch has met destruction. Is this a terrifying cycle? Is the world repeating this process?” the little dog mused.

“And what of the so-called Great Reckoning? Will it bring an end? Are those who partake in it the architects of this cycle—or perhaps its prisoners?” the little dog muttered to itself.

Shi Hao understood that though the little dog spoke in fragments, it revealed much. These were the very mysteries the Immortal King of No End and the Immortal King of Reincarnation had sought to unravel.

“Is it the past that repeats, or the people?” the little dog added.

“You wish to enter the Immortal Domain to uncover this?” Shi Hao asked.

“With my current cultivation, I likely cannot. I cannot surpass the insights of the Immortal King of No End or the Immortal King of Reincarnation,” the little dog admitted, shaking its head.

“Then what will you do?” Shi Hao was puzzled.

“I only wish to find the Immortal King of No End. I refuse to believe he is truly gone,” the little dog said sorrowfully.

Shi Hao was stunned. Hadn’t the Immortal King of No End perished, his blood staining the battle banners, buried in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths? Even his bell lay shattered, its spirit lost, reduced to a lifeless husk.

“He is dead, but I cannot accept it!” the little dog growled, its voice thick with ancient grief.

What could change that? Going there would be futile. Though Shi Hao said nothing more, he gently patted its shoulder, conveying his understanding without words.

“Not necessarily. There may yet be a place where change is possible,” the little dog insisted.

It admitted it could not fully comprehend the achievements of the Immortal King of No End or the ultimate research of the Immortal King of Reincarnation. Yet, it had heard fragments of their conclusions.

Though it couldn’t grasp the full truth, it knew of a place—a place where variables might still exist.

“There is a place where, perhaps, the Immortal King of No End can be found again!” The little dog’s eyes gleamed with determination.

A place?

“A place that connects heaven and earth, the spiritual and the temporal, the past and the present—where miracles may yet unfold!” the little dog declared firmly.

This was a secret realm mentioned by the Immortal King of No End and the Immortal King of Reincarnation—a place they had intended to observe and test. But the cataclysmic war had erupted before they could act, claiming their lives.

“Farewell. I sense something extraordinary about you. Vague memories linger—whether fragments of a future I once glimpsed or an intuition granted by fate, I cannot say.”

Before departing, the little dog regarded Shi Hao with rare solemnity.

Indeed, Shi Hao had noticed that while the little dog dismissed others with arrogance, barking about “human pets,” it treated him with cautious respect, even in their banter.

It seemed to harbor an innate reverence for Shi Hao, never daring to cross the line, even when baring its teeth.

“You saw a glimpse of my future?” Shi Hao asked.

“You know I was once broken in battle, nearly annihilated. I buried myself in that place, my soul all but scattered. Though I rested in that natural tomb of corpses and souls for an epoch, what emerged was no longer truly me—only remnants of thought. Much has been lost.” The little dog lowered its head, its voice heavy with sorrow.

For in truth, it had died in battle. What remained was but a fragment of its soul, reawakened within its corpse, birthing a new consciousness.

In a sense, it was no longer the mighty being it once was.

That it could recall fragments of the past was nothing short of miraculous.

“Life must have purpose. Farewell, young one. In this lifetime, we shall not meet again. If reincarnation exists, perhaps in a thousand, a million lifetimes hence!” With that, the little dog departed.

It sought a path, a place where miracles might unfold, where it might glimpse the faces of the past.

Just like that, it was gone.

Shi Hao stood in melancholy silence. There was so much more he wished to ask, yet words failed him.

He followed for a time, silently seeing it off, struggling to speak.

“This realm, this epoch—it is beyond saving. Prepare yourself,” the little dog called back.

“Is it truly so hopeless?”

“Do you believe you possess the strength to cleave through eternity with a single stroke? Or, to put it plainly, do you have the power? One sword to sever the ages, one cycle to end all cycles! How many mighty beings have risen and fallen in the river of time? Could you withstand them all? Even if only one emerged in an entire epoch, could you prevail?”

And with that, the little dog vanished, leaving no trace behind.