Legend of the chosen ones: Beyond Destiny Chapter 114 - 91 Stop

There was no sound of the sky shattering or the earth cleaving, no noise of collapse or lantation.

When that colossal being stretched out from its core, unfolding its vast and majestic form above the sky, the whole world seed to fall into silence.

Only a solitary and scattered singing reverberated.

"Yearning for my hotown, yearning for my hotown, how lovely it truly was... The people of ho, how are they now, always on my mind and not forgotten, a lonely stranger in a foreign land, desolate and forlorn..."

For a mont, even ti itself seed to co to an abrupt halt.

And then, it reversed and began!

Those infinite hands that controlled the heavens and the earth, from this mont, softly pulled at the threads in their grasp, again taking control of all things, as if manipulated by an Invisible Hand.

What was shattered nded once more, and everything that had collapsed was rebuilt.

It was as if after multiple freezes, under the hold of the Invisible Hand, a coherent set of images ford, bringing the contours of a small town back to rise among the ruins.

What had passed returned once more, and everything that had been destroyed awoke from the ashes.

Even ti itself seed to begin moving backward!

"This is the Saint's Creation Theory... The entire Crack Realm is built upon her Creation Theory."

From within the Ghost Work Ball, a numb voice ca: "After all these years, she's actually still alive? Hell, digging this ti really unearthed a Tyrannosaurus rex..."

Ji Jue was unable to utter a word.

If it had been soone else, they might have marveled at the grandeur and incredibility of the current scene but as a practitioner of Fluid Alchemy and Non-attack, he could deeply feel what was happening inside the Crack Realm, and even more so, the workings and achievents behind this magnificent facade surpassed all imagination.

It was as if, like a true deity!

The mont when the countless records of ti buried beneath the ground combined with the reconstructed town before his eyes, it was as if once again a breach through ti was made.

It revealed a gateway to four hundred years prior.

On both ends of ti, the mirror image of the town and the Crack Realm now ford myriad connections... gradually, an Invisible Bridge was erected!

But now, although the Gate of Eternity was revealed, it remained sealed.

It looked close within reach, but the distance was like a chasm between heavens and earth.

Unattainable.

Above the sky, that towering, dazzlingly grandiose tower stood firm, severing past and future, standing in front of the gates.

The mont the terrible crack appeared atop the high tower, the reflections ford by both sides of ti, the bridges rcury had painstakingly constructed, vanished without a trace.

They broke down alongside the Heavenly Origin Tower with a thunderous crash.

Only a pitch-black abyss remained.

Everything that had been reborn once again turned into ruins, everything remade once more fell to earth, leaving only remnants... just as it had happened eons ago at the far end of ti.

Above the sky, the massive entity ford by countless hands paused for a mont.

Within the lonely song, cries of anguish resurfaced.

Like wailing and lanting.

Blood-red tears fell like a torrential rain, shattered remains plumted, turning into twisted monsters, only to turn around and rejoin the grand yet lonely song.

Once again, from the ruins, all was recreated...

Again and again.

Just as the countless cycles attempted in the past, it never ceased.

It never stopped.

"This is rcury's Creation Theory, its na is 'The First Cause.'"

The Prophet said, "rcury combined Embers and the Ether Path, based on Cause and Effect, constructing a chain from past to future—Her power can create absolute causal relationships between past and future, and by tracing and reversing these, she twists ti, forming this 'recursion' spectacle."

"What is she trying to do?"

In the long silence, Ji Jue gazed at the world of life and death unfolding before him, murmuring softly.

But the answer, he already knew well in his heart.

Other than reclaiming everything that was once had, what other answer could there be?

Other than taking back all that had passed, what else is there to compel a Saint to such pain and madness?

So say that Superior is history and the world itself.

They are born from the beginning, stretching all the way to the end of days, welcoming the end.

All matters and phenona in the world, whether order or chaos, life or death, war, peace, changes in governance, and alterations of mountains and rivers, will all intertwine into an elaborate tapestry that encompasses and pervades everything.

Everything is fixed within Superior's tapestry.

For this reason, there's always a chance for redemption, as long as one could return to that day, as long as one could catch up to that wedding that can never be reached...

"Before the Chaos Era, a saying was passed down: Before the box is opened, no one knows whether the cat inside is alive or dead."

The Prophet said slowly, "Perhaps, within history, all that Destruction is preordained. But before Destruction, there is still a chance of preservation.

As long as she can save the souls from before Destruction, then there is still room for maneuver."

For this, she spared no expense.

Throughout the remaining years of her life, she exhausted all her Power, pursuing the position of Saint, weaving her Creation Theory into this pattern.

Hoping that one day, using the tool's simulation, she might unlimitedly approach that past ti and through the Gate of Eternity, return to that day.

But she failed.

No matter how many tis she tried, no matter how great the cost.

It wasn't due to insufficient abilities, nor because of miscalculations.

It was precisely because of the Heavenly Origin Tower's collapse!

The tapestry woven by Superior, which she had personally destroyed, could no longer be traced back along its trajectory.

Horrific chaos and destruction carved an impassable chasm, an incurable scar across history and ti, separating her from everything she loved.

Thus, nothing could be reversed anymore.

She beca because of it.

Everything was predestined.

If the Saints of Embers were shaped by Heavenly Destiny, then this was the destiny she had to embrace.

She couldn't reverse her own inception; even a Saint representing inception, just as a dragon symbolizing doomsday, would inevitably face their end.

Even if she exhausted all her thoughts and all her ti searching for the dissipated old tis, she still couldn't fill the void, no matter how minute the error, which after countless repetitions, had turned into a distant illusion starkly different from reality.

Even at all costs.

Even if she had to create Hell by her own hands and imprison herself within it...

With incessant changes, repeating over and over to no avail, in the despairing cycle, the end that ca was not a conclusion.

But the beginning of an eternal tornt.

"How crazy, right?"

The Prophet sighed lightly, "With so much future awaiting exploration, yet humanity chooses to waste a lifeti on sothing like 'returning to the past.'"

"...I don't think so."

Ji Jue shook his head: "Being a mother, wanting to see her child once more, wishing for her to have a happy life—where is the madness in that?"

Even if it ant dying a thousand tis over, even if it ant sacrificing everything.

Whenever she rembered each other's faces, the price paid seed insignificant.

"If it were , I would probably do the sa," he said softly.

The Prophet asked, "Even if that ans creating Hell?"

Ji Jue remained silent, offering no reply.

In the brief silence, the Prophet looked at him, inexplicably sighing:

"...You are really just like her."

If she had known this from the beginning, perhaps she would have been more cautious in choosing her collaborator, but now, she didn't care for such trivial details.

Nor did she regret anymore.

Ever since awakening to self and consciousness, she had done too many things to regret... but this ti, she would rather face regrets than failure.

But inexplicably, she couldn't help wondering: did rcury make up her mind in the sa way back then?

She closed her eyes, sighing silently.

Now, everyone was the sa "people."

Boom!!!

When the Heavenly Origin Tower's phantom once again shattered, everything in the Crack Realm crumbled to ruins for another ti. Amidst the rain of tears, the lonely song persisted, countless hands still stretched out determinedly to nd all, to recreate everything.

Never ending.

The Saint sang alone amidst the tears, over and over again.

Until the wings were ignited by the changing tis, until the body burned and turned to ash, she would not stop!

She would offer herself as a sacrifice.

Vainly stretching out hands, longing to touch the cheek from four hundred years ago.

But everything was already fated.

The closer she got to the remaining ti of the Heavenly Origin Tower, the stronger the curse she bore beca.

Every ti she rewound ti, she would repeatedly suffer retaliation originating from Heavenly Origin, and when reason and soul were continually consud, what remained was only obsessions.

It was like throwing one's body into the abyss over and over, hoping that one day it might be possible to reach the other side on top of one's remains.

In the fruitless tornt, she yearned for a future that would never arrive, wanting to return to a past forever out of reach.

In the endless cycle, what would you beco in the end, rcury?

When souls and bodies were burnt out, and ashes and embers were scattered into the cracks of ti, would it be a total surrender to nothingness? Or would she be reborn from the ashes of pain and despair as a true Evil?

Before that, everything should have ended…

"Stop, rcury."

The Prophet opened her eyes, issuing her final command towards all of this, towards the Crack Realm.

She said: "Stop!"

In that instant, the singing abruptly ceased.

The sky, the earth, the created, the ruins, even rcury herself who enveloped the entire sky—everything ca to a sudden halt... A painful wail burst forth from above, tornting everyone's eardrums.

From the workshop core that rose from beneath the Ninth Ground, under the Prophet's instruction, it changed once more, just as it had done countless tis over the past four hundred years…

A spire-like tower sprang forth, ascending into the sky, replacing the phantom of the Heavenly Origin Tower, standing between heaven and earth, piercing rcury's unrecognizable body through and through!

Once again, the Saint was imprisoned in the cage called the workshop!

Bringing the endless cycle to a halt.

Halted.