The very instant he came to his senses, what the Garrison Saint felt was incomprehensible shock, sheer bewildering disbelief, followed by a hundredfold humiliation, and ten thousand, a hundred thousand, a million times the fury and madness!
Row upon row of identical faces turned livid and flushed, spreading like a contagious red warning light. Divine power erupted as they struggled with all their might, followed immediately by roaring at the top of their lungs!
The earth rippled like a shaking rug, and the overlapping roars fused into thunder.
It reverberated across Limbo.
Until Ji Jue's brow furrowed.
He said, "Quiet."
And so, there was quiet.
An invisible ripple spread outward. Wherever it passed, heaven and earth settled back into their initial calm, and all phenomena fell mute in silent stillness.
It became so quiet that one could even hear the buzz of tinnitus and the echoing rush of one's own blood.
Total dead silence.
All that remained were the clones of the Saint sprawled on the ground, spasming in fury, opening their mouths to bellow and roar, yet utterly unable to make a sound.
Like test specimens strapped to a dissection table.
At the mercy of whoever stood over them.
"In terms of threat level, you can't even compare to Yidela," Ji Jue murmured, looking down at him with a wistful sigh. "After waiting all this time, I was hoping they'd send in someone with real weight. Instead, I get something like this. After all that fuss, you're not even as impressive as biting down on a cigarette lighter.
"Has your Holy God completely run out of tricks?"
The Garrison Saint was incensed, infuriated, his rage piling upon rage, yet it was completely and utterly useless.
Stats?
In this illusory world, stats were the most meaningless thing imaginable. As long as divine power was funneled in, even a pig could be hyped up into a holy saint.
The Garrison Saint's uniqueness lay in his soul and consciousness—amidst mindless fanaticism and prayer, every impurity had been purged from his self-nature, achieving a pure state of 'selflessness.' And it was precisely because of this selflessness that he could effortlessly infect others with his fervent fixation, completing his replication.
As a result, aside from unleashing his divine power through 'One Mind, Ten Thousand Multitudes,' he had virtually no distinguishing traits to speak of.
No matter how inflated the numbers were, they were still just stats. Against cannon fodder, they were unstoppable, of course. But to a corrupt admin holding system permissions like Ji Jue, tweaking them—whether buffing or nerfing—was entirely trivial.
Therefore, mastering and countering mechanics always took precedence.
As long as he grasped the mechanics and possessed special admin privileges, dealing with trash like this didn't take an ounce of effort.
What was more...
He hadn't even used the mechanics yet!
"You can't even beat people in stats. Stop embarrassing yourself; time to delete your account."
Ji Jue flicked his finger in sheer disinterest.
In that instant, a power far surpassing the Garrison Saint's erupted from the void with a deafening roar. It billowed outward in a silver tempest, utterly annihilating every replica the Garrison Saint had produced wherever it swept!
Above Ji Jue's head, the Crown of the Lord of the Flies blazed with fierce brilliance.
Yet the color of that radiance was utterly bizarre—a chromatic, shifting pitch-black, constantly eroding reality, piercing illusions, and blanketing the void.
Only the moment this terrifying power was unleashed did the Garrison Saint finally perceive the chasm between them, as well as the ghastly expanding vortex above Ji Jue's head... like a waking nightmare!
Countless rays of murky phantom light converged into a swirling torrent, sinking into a void-like darkness.
Effortlessly, it enveloped all of Limbo!
"Limbo really is a wonderful place," Ji Jue said, stretching his fingers. He flashed a grin at the dumbstruck Garrison Saint. "Don't you think?"
Despair, pain, resentment, curses, fear, hatred, madness...
Practically infinite!
The agony suffered by those sinners and heretics over near-eternal spans of time—flung into seas of fire again and again, torn apart, frozen, burned to cinders, or crushed into pulp. In suffering with no end in sight, human beings despaired and lost their minds, until finally, wrung dry time after time, they became ash and dust beyond any recovery.
How many times had such scenes played out here?
Like ordinary daily routines, repeating day after day, stretching out toward the end of time. And in this endless hell, just how much ash and dust, discarded like worn-out rags by the Holy God, drifted through the dark?
If faith possessed power, did this accumulated vile sin not also harbor flames potent enough to burn everything to ash?
Now, pain and rancor rose from the dust.
Drawn by Ji Jue's gravitational pull, the power buried beneath the crust converged upon him in an unending surge, scrambling to plunge into the vortex of the Crown of the Lord of the Flies, augmenting his might with every passing second.
From the very moment he set foot in Limbo, he had been growing stronger at an unimaginable rate—stronger, and stronger still...
Even now, the colossal vortex whipped up by the Crown of the Lord of the Flies continued to expand.
Devouring pain like a whale, gorging on despair!
Swallowing every last trace of dormant resentment and madness.
Pure suffering coursed through his consciousness and soul. Amidst the illusions rising before his eyes, countless phantoms clung to his body like living curses!
Ji Jue paid them no mind, not even bothering to dispel them.
He merely spread his hands calmly, gathering their lingering grudges and final curses between his ten fingers.
Curses or praise, trust or hatred—none of it mattered. Just leave it all to me.
No need to suffer any longer; no need for grief or despair.
All suffering shall come to an end.
Every hell shall burn to ash in the flames!
"How does it feel now, Lord Saint?"
Ji Jue lowered his gaze, looking down at the Garrison Saint, who had been beaten back to his original form beneath his feet. With a flick of his finger, he lifted the seal on the Saint's mouth. "Does prostrating yourself before a heretic feel the same as bowing before the Holy God?"
"Blasphemy! Arrogance! Ridiculous!!!"
The Garrison Saint's body convulsed violently as he struggled again and again, his eyes nearly tearing at the corners. "How can a lowly rebel ever compare to the magnificence of the Holy God?! If you want to kill me, do it! Cut the chatter!
"One day, you shall burn to ash in the wrath of the Holy God! My faith has long since attained eternity by His side!"
"Is that so?"
Ji Jue smiled. "I don't think so."
Snap!
The instant Ji Jue extended his right hand toward the Garrison Saint once more, boundless darkness abruptly gathered from across Limbo's second layer, dragging everything inward toward his palm.
Under the revision and reconstruction of his hands, the phenomenon known as the Well of Lost Light manifested anew from his grasp, outlining a stagnant mirror of still water condensed from pure darkness.
Silent darkness, swallowing all light.
It failed to reflect the Garrison Saint's contorted expression, yet it drew closer inch by inch, slowly closing in.
"Eternity? Only fools constantly babble about so-called eternity. But no matter, I'll give you a chance."
Ji Jue slowly loosened his grip, offering a final farewell. "Let's see whether that proud faith of yours can withstand the test of 'eternity.'"
The Garrison Saint froze, eyes bulging. He opened his mouth to speak, but an instant later, a crisp splash like someone plunging into water echoed.
The Garrison Saint was gone.
Swallowed into the darkness before he could even struggle.
He only had time for one last roar.
The roar was abruptly cut off.
In merely a breath, it was all over.
Behind the fractured darkness, a shriveled body emerged.
Having endured boundless plummeting and nothingness, neither anger nor hatred remained, nor joy or gladness.
Only blank vacuity, dumb as a wooden chicken.
He did not even seem to comprehend what had happened. After a long, long time, trembling, he tried to lift his head. A sound of cracking rang out, spreading swiftly.
An unimaginably vast stretch of time had worn everything away.
In that realm of pure nothingness, all sense of self and consciousness had naturally been reduced to ash and dust.
Even this final shell and vessel could no longer hold together.
It collapsed rapidly, falling to the ground until only a pool of pale ash remained.
Yet amidst this pile of ashes, which speck of dust was the truly eternal faith?
It was truly impossible to tell.
"It seems there is none."
Ji Jue withdrew his gaze with a touch of regret. Stepping forward, he waved a hand, and the towering sanctuary dissolved like foam, as though it had never existed.
Sacred seals shattered; the altar collapsed.
Drawn by gravitational force, the bizarre holy relic—part spike, part blade—flew into Ji Jue's hand. The moment his fingers closed around it, he finally felt what was concealed beneath the second layer of Limbo: the third layer!
The true Limbo!
The thing that the Order—no, the Holy God—truly wanted to banish outside the Divine Kingdom of Paradise...
The fundamental nature of this world!
"There's something wrong with this world."
During an idle chat in the workshop once, the old codger from Qitan, cracking melon seeds, had suddenly dropped this wild take, prompting Ji Jue's mock amazement and clapping.
"I see! So there's something wrong with the world! If you hadn't told me, I never would've noticed!"
He had rolled his eyes and retorted, "I'd like to ask: is there anything right about it?"
"No, the abnormalities you're talking about are just things you've seen that contradict common sense. Immortality, divine rule, church governance, faith above all else... stuff like that."
Bao Dachai had grinned, and after milking the suspense for all it was worth, he slowly said, "Where does the essence of all this actually come from?"
"Isn't it just a dream?" Ji Jue had asked in return. "What else could it be?"
"Then here's the question."
Bao Dachai spread his hands and asked inquisitively, "When have you ever seen a dream so orderly?"
Ji Jue had stared blankly.
Silence.
"Even a single person's dream is full of absurd, chaotic nonsense. One second heaven and earth are collapsing, the next second you're whispering sweet nothings.
"One second you're all setting out to become the Pirate King, and a moment later you've got a Zanpakuto tucked into your robes. By the time you head out to rescue your best friend and reach your destination, you might look up and realize you've fought your way into Konoha.
"If a single person's dream is already that turbulent and chaotic, then what about a dream shared by so many people?"
Bao Dachai had asked slowly, "Isn't the very reason a dream differs from reality that uncontrollable chaos and the possibility that literally anything can happen?
"No matter how rock-solid or unyielding common sense is, it can't possibly be carved into someone's bones or etched into their soul so deeply that they can't forget it even after dying once, right?
"Don't forget, Ji Jue, who entered this place... Do you really think so many people here ever received standard, systematic education?"
"Why couldn't it be the power of the Huangliang Relic?"
"Maybe. But why would it do that?"
Bao Dachai countered, "Once that Lord of Huaxu realized where his true desires lay, he began abandoning reality to pursue illusions. Since he took dreams as paradise, he should have embraced that very chaos. Why would he deliberately erase the very things that distinguish dreams from reality?
"Even if it's just... a relic, heh, even if it's being manipulated by someone else, it wouldn't be this bizarre, would it?"
A stable, structured dreamscape was inherently unreasonable.
Perhaps for a Heart Pivot Celestial Chosen, controlling one's own dream was effortless, but that was limited to oneself. Extending it to cover ten or a hundred people would already be exhausting, and a thousand would be the absolute limit.
Yet in a dream this vast, gathering so many souls, trying to completely negate chaos and disorder—even with the Huangliang Relic in hand—was simply too absurd.
Could Wen Wen's brother have transformed over the span of a few years into a living Sage or an incarnate Dragon?
If that were true, what the hell was there left to fight?
Might as well surrender.
If that were truly the case, the only method of resistance Ji Jue could think of would be to summon a Great Sin into this dream and blow everything out of proportion.
"In other words—"
Ji Jue had mused for a moment, "This dream must also have a chaotic and turbulent side. It's just... I see. It's been hidden away?"
So where could such a massive tide of chaos and runaway disorder be hidden?
"Tiancheng?" Ji Jue asked.
"Impossible. The very existence of chaos destabilizes the dream and unravels divine power. Who'd shove a bomb up their own ass?"
"In the Realm of Ultimate Bliss?"
"The Realm of Ultimate Bliss is just a minor bubble temporarily spun out by the Huangliang Relic. How could it house something that massive?"
"Then only one possibility remains."
Ji Jue and Bao Dachai had exchanged a look.
Either the Holy God held paradise in his palm while sitting atop a volcano, remaining invincible within the dream nonetheless, or else the only place vast enough to hold such a behemoth was one location.
Limbo!
Yet now, Limbo was right before his eyes—where was this dark, chaotic side of the dream concealed?
When Ji Jue gripped the key-like holy relic, he finally felt the surging rhythm, like the echoing pulse of ocean tides, beneath the second layer of Limbo.
Surging upward ceaselessly, battering the seal.
Yearning for a true eruption and release.
The key, the lock, and the third layer were one and the same.
Born from this place, bound by the same seal, and likewise unable to leave its domain.
Now, the key was in his hand, and the lock had manifested before Ji Jue—no, it had existed in the second layer of Limbo from the very beginning.
The entity that had swallowed countless stretches of time, known as the Well of Lost Light!
This was also one of the barriers and defensive lines barring access to the third layer of Limbo...
To truly unlock the third layer, one had to insert the key into the lock. Yet to accomplish that, one inevitably had to endure the passage and wear of boundless time within it.
Time.
Time stood like a sheer cliff before everyone, impossible to scale.
As long as one remained within this dream, it was utterly impossible to resist this endless attrition and weathering; one would be reduced to ash long before touching the true core of the lock.
Ji Jue pondered for a moment, then reached his hand toward that expanse of pure darkness.
The moment it submerged into the dark, it seemed to vanish without a trace.
When he withdrew his wrist, he saw that his steel hand was gone. The stump was bizarre, twisted, and covered in rust.
Even though he had deliberately severed his sensory perception, the weathering of time had already acted upon his right hand. Steel could not withstand time; turning to dust was only natural.
Then he would simply reinforce the material.
In an instant, the steel hand regenerated—dazzling golden, gorgeous and majestic. He reached in once more, and when he pulled it back, it was completely distorted.
Spiritus dispersed; material properties collapsed.
Then, reinforce it further. On this foundation, apply Fluid Alchemy, maximizing the stability of the Creation Spirit to in turn enhance the material!
A hand of radiant light grew forth and reached in.
Then, the light dissipated, drowning in the dark.
Of that ironclad Creation Spirit, all that remained in the end was a wisp of regret, and even the regret itself had nearly vanished, leaving only faint etchings at the stump.
Ji Jue was silent.
He cast his eyes down, staring into the deep well before him—the so-called "eternity."
After a long time, he abandoned the pointless attempt, shelving the problem for now, and turned toward the exit. Yet he saw a silhouette waiting behind him.
Wen Wen.
She seemed to have grown impatient, leaning on her spear and yawning.
When Ji Jue looked over, she reached out her hand.
"Let me try?"
"..."
Puzzled, Ji Jue asked, "Try what? It's already over, Sister Wen. We can declare victory."
"See, when you lie, you don't even blink," Wen Wen chuckled. "The old codger—tch, you got me saying it—Bao Dachai told me about your plan."
Ji Jue maintained his blank look, as if failing to comprehend what she was talking about, but his eyes uncontrollably darkened.
Growing gradually shadowy.
"Don't blame him. At the very least, I'm the commander, right? Even if only in name..."
Wen Wen tilted her head, the corners of her lips curling up. "Besides, someone was just saying not long ago that others should trust him more. How come when it's your turn, you're even worse?"
Ji Jue shook his head. "It's not necessary. Besides, from the start, the existence of chaos was just a theory—his personal conjecture, without any proof."
"But I'm the most suitable person, aren't I?"
Wen Wen didn't back down; instead, she took a step forward. Small and delicate though she currently was, she still held her head high and looked up at him.
"Don't underestimate me, Ji Jue."
Those eyes...
Pupils like crystal, swirling with phantom light.
Even though she had grown younger, her build had become so petite, and her temper had turned childish, her gaze alone had never changed.
It was identical to the day she descended from the sky.
No backing down, no hesitation, no yielding—steadfast, as if something in this world truly was eternal, unshakeable, and immovable.
Herself.
Ji Jue wanted to dodge her gaze, but found himself powerless to do so.
In just a momentary lapse of concentration, his hand lightened. The key had changed hands.
"Leave it to me," she said. "Just leave it to me."
Wen Wen patted Ji Jue on the shoulder and grinned, as hearty as ever. Rolling up her sleeves, she plunged into that darkness, traversing who knew what distance, shattering who knew how vast a stretch of time.
The darkness roiled as if boiling.
At a speed visible to the naked eye...
It dissipated!
Ji Jue's eyes widened.
In the deepest depths of the thinning darkness, a keyhole emerged. The key in her hand had already driven into it, and she twisted it with all her strength.
And so, a roar reverberating across all of Limbo erupted from the keyhole!
Like an ebbing tide, everything hidden beneath the darkness was revealed once more. Dazzling phantom light surged like ocean waves beneath their feet, boundless and endless, washing over the invisible floor.
And even more crystalline and blinding than that phantom light was Wen Wen's hand.
As her wrist turned, the fragile outer shell seemed to crack open, revealing its true form beneath that eternal erosion and weathering.
Fingers, palm, wrist, and even her arm had completely transmuted into crystal.
Like a masterpiece sculpted by the earth with everything it had over hundreds of millions of years, bearing testament to the so-called... eternity!
Yet immediately afterward, every anomaly vanished without a trace, returning to its original state.
Wen Wen stepped back wearily, remarking in teasing amusement, "Seems being a bit stubborn has its perks after all."
Ji Jue said nothing.
He simply pulled her behind him, his gaze already falling toward the iridescent light below—or more precisely, a speck of darkness expanding rapidly in the deepest heart of that rainbow sheen.
In a flash, it stretched into a line, so long that its ends were virtually out of sight.
Then, that slender line slowly parted to both sides like a bizarre eye, revealing a pupil of pure black within—vast and magnificent, seeming to encompass all phenomena of the mortal world.
Clearly it was down below.
Yet the moment that eye opened, up and down seemed to invert; they became inconsequential motes of dust falling toward the earth, while the giant eye was the true presence meant to hang high at the center of the firmament.
Contemptuous of all, looking down on everything.
Chapter 525