“Master,” a deep voice sounded.
Seated cross-legged on a silver-white grass mat with his eyes closed in meditation, the Island Master of Time and Space opened his eyes. He knew this voice belonged to the artifact spirit of the Time and Space Temple, here to report.
“What is it?” the Island Master asked.
“A few of the individuals under my control have been forcibly taken away by Emperor Dongbo,” the deep voice continued. “Moreover, the marks I left on their souls have been erased. Those individuals were none other than the Sword Emperor, the Master of Plum Mountain, and others who knew Emperor Dongbo during their Transcendent days.”
“Hmph,” the Island Master snorted coldly. “Let them be taken. There are countless reincarnators—a few less won’t matter.”
“Yes,” the deep voice obediently replied.
“Go,” the Island Master said dismissively.
“This Dongbo Xueying truly values sentiment,” the Island Master murmured, his eyes glinting with cold light. Deep within his heart, a faint figure surfaced—distant and blurred. Once, he too had someone most important in his life, but all of that had been false, nothing but a cruel joke.
The Island Master chuckled darkly under his breath. “I received reports earlier that he reversed time to resurrect a group of insignificant beings from the River of Time—people like Tong San and Cheng Lingshu, utterly weaklings. Fine, those were from the Xia Clan world, but now he’s even saving a few reincarnators he merely crossed paths with in the Redstone Mountain? How soft-hearted! And yet, someone so soft-hearted managed to become a Paragon so quickly!”
Though displeased, he was powerless to act.
In terms of pure strength, Dongbo Xueying was already among the top Paragons, rivaled only by Qing Jun and the Hellfire Paragon. And if he wielded that black gourd… unless the Bloodblade Divine Emperor intervened, he would be invincible! The sheer disparity in power forced the Island Master to swallow his frustration.
Moreover, the current state of the universe placed the Bloodblade Divine Emperor—now a Void God—far above all others. No one dared offend him, for when the cosmic cycle ended, they would all rely on him to lead them to safety. And the Bloodblade Divine Emperor was none other than Dongbo Xueying’s master!
For his strength, his potential, and their own futures, the Paragons sought Dongbo Xueying’s goodwill. Even someone as capricious as the Island Master had no choice but to endure.
—
Since he possessed the power, Dongbo Xueying did what he believed was right. He had indeed resurrected many, though it was but a trivial effort for him. Yet for those brought back, it meant everything. When the Master of Plum Mountain reunited with his beloved, tears streamed down both their faces. The Sword Emperor laughed madly, tears of joy spilling from his eyes…
“Master.”
In the starry void, Dongbo Xueying arrived at the ancestral stronghold of the Mother Goddess Cult. The spherical fortress was now encircled by intricate formations, while the Bloodblade Divine Emperor stood afar, observing and manipulating the arrays, occasionally pausing to ponder. The Xumu Battleship had long been breached, and the cult’s leaders within had been mercilessly slain by the Divine Emperor.
“Xueying, you’re here,” the Bloodblade Divine Emperor said with a smile, glancing at his disciple before turning back to the ancient spherical fortress. “This stronghold now holds only two cult leaders, both slain by my secret arts. The fortress is lifeless, yet I cannot open or refine it. Do you have any ideas?”
Dongbo Xueying marveled inwardly. His master, now a Void God, had managed to kill two cult leaders through the fortress’s defenses.
“In terms of formations and artifacts, I am far beneath you, Master. Don’t ask me about such things,” Dongbo Xueying quickly replied.
The Divine Emperor chuckled. His disciple was prodigious, but mastering the myriad arts required time, patience, and insight—luxuries Xueying hadn’t yet had.
“You didn’t come just to see me, did you?” the Divine Emperor asked. “Speak your mind.”
At his current level, he was invincible within the universe. His sole focus was advancing further on the path of cultivation, catching up to predecessors like the Demon Ancestor and the Island Sword Master.
“There is something,” Dongbo Xueying said solemnly. “Master, the Time and Space Temple is a malignant tumor rooted in the Divine Realm, the Abyss, and the Material World. It forcibly abducts Transcendents with Third-Grade True Intent, enslaving their souls and subjecting them to deadly missions—forcing them to temper themselves through life-and-death trials. Countless perish, batch after batch. Only those with Second-Grade True Intent can refuse, but how rare are such talents in a mortal world? The temple takes whomever it pleases, tormenting billions. Even the few who ascend to godhood remain under its control.”
“Once taken, freedom is nearly impossible.”
Dongbo Xueying met the Divine Emperor’s gaze. “The Time and Space Temple should not exist. At the very least, it must not be allowed to abduct lives so wantonly across the universe.”
The Divine Emperor nodded. “You speak wisely. I agree. Have you come to ask me to intervene?”
“Yes. The Island Master wields time and space. If I confront him, he may not yield. But if you step in, the outcome would be different,” Xueying said.
The Divine Emperor nodded again. “Long ago, Yuan Chu and I opposed him, but we were powerless. We could only negotiate rules to maintain balance.”
“But now, change is due,” the Divine Emperor declared. “Henceforth, the Time and Space Temple may only take the souls of the deceased, reshaping their bodies to begin new journeys.”
“Good,” Dongbo Xueying said, his eyes brightening.
For the dead, this was a second chance—a boon rather than a curse.
“It is decided,” the Divine Emperor said. With his current authority, the Island Master would have no choice but to obey—or face the temple’s destruction.
“Master, I’ve always wondered—why did you establish the Bloodblade Tavern?” Xueying asked.
The Divine Emperor’s eyebrows rose, and he smiled. “You rascal. I built the Tavern across the Divine Realm, the Abyss, and the Material World for two reasons. First, assassins will always exist, so I imposed order upon their trade. Second, and more importantly, by creating the Tavern, I share in the karma of every assassination performed under its banner. Night and day, I bear the weight of endless bloodshed, hatred, and sorrow… all of which temper my heart and deepen my insights into the Path of Destruction and the Path of the Bloodblade.”
Dongbo Xueying was stunned.
All for cultivation?
To endure endless karma, bathed in blood and lamentation—such an existence was torment.
“Go now,” the Divine Emperor said.
—
With the Bloodblade Divine Emperor’s decree, the Island Master immediately complied. From then on, the Time and Space Temple could only claim the souls of the dead. Countless abducted reincarnators were given a choice: freedom or continued service, the latter now accompanied by greater rewards.
As time flowed, the birth of a Void God brought unprecedented peace to the universe. With an invincible guardian overseeing all, the Paragons grew more amicable, no longer burdened by the desperation of the cosmic cycle’s end.
Years passed.
Dongbo Xueying brought out a clone of his disciple, Chong Xiaoqi, granting him a broader world for cultivation and tempering.
His wife Jingqiu, his children Dongbo Yu and Dongbo Qingyao, his disciples Mo Chongyun and Jia Yun, and even his old friend Qiu Bai—all were sent to the ‘Demon Mountain Universe.’ None stayed longer than a million years (equivalent to over three billion years there). With the help of his friend, the Third Prince Jiao Yunliu, they received the finest guidance, exploring other cultivation systems.
In the end, his daughter Dongbo Qingyao became the first to transcend, achieving Paragon status after nine billion years. His eldest disciple, Mo Chongyun, followed after thirty billion years. The others remained at the Fourth Heaven Godking realm, including Jingqiu, who had ventured into the Path of Witchcraft but had yet to break through.
—
Above the Blackmist Sea, at the Dongbo Emperor’s residence, the white-robed Xueying stood alone, gazing at the stars. A figure materialized beside him—Yu Jingqiu.
“Xueying,” she said softly. “Their time is almost up.”
Xueying shuddered.
His parents, his brother, Uncle Zong, Uncle Tong—despite his efforts, they had only reached godhood. And gods had finite lifespans, typically around a hundred million years. Recently, his parents had neared their limits. Using time-dilation treasures, they had waited—for Uncle Zong, Uncle Tong, and Dongbo Qingshi. They wished to depart together, content with lives well-lived.
“Father, Mother, Uncle Zong, Uncle Tong, Little Stone…” Xueying’s heart trembled. The most important people in his life were leaving—forever. He felt hollow, as if part of his soul were being torn away.
He had thought himself prepared, but when the moment arrived, it was agony. A searing pain, as if his very being were being cleaved apart.
“Let’s go,” he said quietly.
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