Juzi

A Celestial Chosen's twelve tiers of the Raw Stone were divided into four realms: Calling, Metamorphosis, Regeneration, and Exaltation. The Calling stage focused on the growth and evolution of abilities. The Metamorphosis stage shifted toward the fusion of soul and flesh, gradually stripping away the defects of mortal flesh. By the Regeneration tier, where soul, ability, and flesh were fully integrated, a Celestial Chosen could truly be called a wondrous creature beyond ordinary mortals. Depending on their Sovereign Virtue and matrix, some could bathe in raging fire and soak in magma without batting an eye; some could shrink or enlarge themselves at will, vanishing without a trace; others possessed an affinity with plants like legendary elves, drawing upon botanical vitality at will; and some could simply transform into monsters. Formless's transformation at the Regeneration tier was etherealization! Influenced by his matrix, he had even taken on Stygian traits. His soul and spiritus could convert into one another entirely; any speck of spiritus could be considered him. Relying on this transformation, he had earned the title of Formless, infesting countless hosts and existing everywhere. Unfortunately, the trick that had always worked like a charm had suddenly run into a brick wall upon entering the Border Realm... much like a certain Mr. Ji, he had been taught a harsh lesson in life by the local canned surströmming. Shit! It was all fucking shit! Originally, such soulless, mindless puppets were the easiest to parasitize and manipulate. But now... every single one he touched went mad, nearly dragging him into the insanity as well! Spiritus was packed with so much chaos and madness that if he greedily swallowed it all, even Formless would probably undergo an aberration on the spot. Members of the Dragon Cult merely worshipped the dragon's might, drew close to its nature, and attempted to harness that apocalyptic power that stood opposed to the sages' origins. That didn't mean anyone actually wanted to aberrate. All right, there were lunatics who did, but Formless certainly wasn't one of them! He couldn't fathom how a dignified sage could turn their own Border Realm into a septic tank... Even Formless, who regarded souls and spiritus as delicacies, could only say that he couldn't stomach a single bite! Yet the traces left by the sages undoubtedly confirmed his initial suspicion. This was Quicksilver's final resting place! Guangwen's intel was indeed solid... Deep underground, Formless gazed greedily across the vast Border Realm. This time, he might actually find a sage's corpse! Just thinking about it made him burn with unbearable thirst. *** Never before had there been such profound temptation. Ji Jue felt ravenously starved. Inside the temporary workshop shelter unfolded by the puzzle ball—which had finally recovered—Ji Jue struggled to restore his condition, ensuring his ability, body, and soul were all at their peak. He was drooling uncontrollably. It wasn't because of An Ran and Little Niuma beside him, but because of the traces of essence lingering in his soul, virtually right beside his ability... His ability was thrashing in frenzy. Like a rabid dog on a leash. No, more accurately, Ji Jue felt as if a part of him was going crazy, wanting to roll all over the ground, as though ants were crawling all over his body, relentlessly begging him: *Just a bite, bro, just one bite!* Ji Jue had to pour all his energy into restraining himself. He told himself: endure, endure, endure. When he had been outside earlier, he could still make the excuse that the surroundings weren't safe and danger could strike at any second. But now, sheltered inside Brother Ball's workshop, his paper-thin willpower was beginning to buckle under the voracious hunger flooding his chest. When the hunger crested its peak, Ji Jue could resist no longer. To hell with patience—he couldn't hold back anymore! The shackled ability broke free in an instant. Radiance burst from the Deus Ex Machina insignia, lunging toward the scattered essence remaining in his body, snapping it up in one massive gulp! Devoured clean. And then, there was no then. Everything went black before Ji Jue's eyes. It felt as if someone had abruptly slammed a massive sledgehammer into his forehead. A ringing buzz filled his ears while his soul drifted away. A sound seemed to echo beside him, faint and unclear, until he finally realized: *Oh, that's just the sound of my brains boiling over.* He lost consciousness completely. Endless sensations, memories, and insights crashed into his soul like a torrential waterfall, instantly short-circuiting his ability to think. He was completely filled, yet it didn't stop. It kept surging in violently! Ceaseless and relentless! Though only a split second had passed, it felt like centuries. There were too many scenes, too many chaotic memories, but above all, there was smelting and forging! The records and history branded into the furnace sprang to life before his eyes! No, it felt so real that it was as if it had happened inside his own body; he was merely recalling it now, which was why it was so clear. At times, he burned for nine days and nine nights to melt an unknown material, repeatedly suppressing its living, writhing resistance with raging flames. At times, like an assembly line, he processed immense amounts of steel and blood in bulk, fluidly crafting one biomechanical heart after another. Most of the time, he took part in a fragment of a colossal project, pouring all his strength into repeatedly refining the furnace's iron glow, striving to draw infinitely closer to the absolute limit of material properties. It seemed to be an incomplete blade. No matter how he called out or reached for it, only silence answered. Occasionally, when the blade seemed to awaken from its long slumber and shuddered slightly, a sonorous chime rang out, echoing across the entire Border Realm. Its name was Revolution. Forged in the fire of the Dragon of Finality, rooted in the bones of primal sages, it possessed no fixed form. Yet the moment its edge was ground and polished to completion, it would become the glorious light that would sever the eternal era once and for all! Ji Jue sank deep into it. He forgot everything. He threw himself entirely into that grinding process, where his own soul seemed to serve as the whetstone. Until that day arrived, when the blade stirred once more, and the first speck of rust fell from the sword. He seemed to hear the sound of the world crumbling. Yet it felt so distant. After ages upon ages, he seemed to wake from slumber and heard unfamiliar voices. Inside that clock tower, the view outside the window was already in ruins. The Tower of Tianyuan was nowhere to be seen. Yet inside the broken tower, the conversation continued. "The concept is indeed ingenious, but it's rather excessively ambitious," an emaciated man sighed softly. "Besides, the history anchored by Sovereign Virtue has already become part of the tapestry. Most of what you're doing will likely be in vain." "Who knows without trying?" Quicksilver remained by the window, gazing out at the ruins. "Did the Juzi come to stop me?" "Mo is no more, so drop those messy titles. Besides, even back when I was Juzi, did I ever force you to do anything?" The man called Juzi sighed, waving a hand. "You know full well what the consequences of doing this will be. I'm just curious... Quicksilver, will you regret the choice you've made?" "Never," Quicksilver answered flatly. "You will in the future," the Juzi said. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Quicksilver finally turned around and told him, "Juzi, you should leave." Yet the Juzi remained seated where he was, not moving, merely looking at her for a long time. "...I've regretted things." He said, "I've regretted many things I've done, more than once. But by the time regret sets in, it's already too late. No amount of repentance can help." The Juzi sighed, offering a solemn plea. "Do not repeat my mistakes." Quicksilver said nothing more. She looked at him in silence. After a long while, she looked away and bid him farewell one last time: "Juzi, you should leave." The Juzi spoke no further. With a silent sigh, he rose and departed. From then on, no one ever visited again. Nothing remained in the workshop but silence. Aside from occasional alchemical work, Quicksilver spent more and more of her time standing before the window, watching everything outside. Just watching. As if waiting, waiting, and waiting still. When she was alone, she would occasionally sing, her desolate voice echoing through the quiet workshop. "Thinking of home, thinking of home, home is so dear... Clear skies, cool breeze, waves of homesickness come... How are the people back home now, always on my mind..." Amid the singing, everything outside the window shifted from ruins to a town, then deteriorated from a town back into ruins. Over and over, in an endless cycle. Yet neither home nor old friends ever appeared. Until one day, the figure that had stood before the window all along vanished without a trace as well. From that point on, across four centuries, what echoed outside the window was no longer hollow laughter, but genuine, agonizing weeping and wailing! This was the end of the long dream. Inside the workshop, Ji Jue opened his eyes drenched in sweat, gasping violently for breath. An Ran handed him water. "How long was I asleep?" Ji Jue felt as if his throat were cracking from thirst. "Three hours, a little more," Xiao An replied. Only three hours, yet it felt like centuries had passed. The records and imprints preserved in the furnace were so profound that Ji Jue had nearly lost himself. Yet now, when he tried to recall them, he found that everything was fading rapidly, the coherent memories splintering and swiftly dissolving. He couldn't even find a place to begin summarizing or describing them. The only clear impression left was the scene from the dream: the conversation between the man called Juzi and Quicksilver. If Ji Jue's brain hadn't completely burned out, the Juzi he had seen was likely the leader of Mo, the resistance organization against the Eternal Empire. Waking from the dream, he couldn't even recall that man's face; he had completely forgotten the characteristics of his voice as well. Yet the one thing he couldn't forget, even if burned to ashes, was the insignia pinned to the man's chest. It was so familiar. Dazedly, he raised his wrist and looked down at his watch. On the dial, the emblem resembling the silhouette of mechanical clockwork gleamed silently. The two were identical! "Celestial Rail?" Ji Jue murmured under his breath. According to the Universal Almanac, T5 had existed as early as the era of the Eternal Empire, and Celestial Rail must have occupied a critical position back then, continuing for more than a century after the Cataclysm Era began. Yet the Juzi wore an insignia tied to Celestial Rail. What was the connection between them? He fell deep into thought. And then... naturally, he couldn't figure out a thing. There were simply too many missing clues and far too many blank spaces in between. What Ji Jue knew was merely a handful of historical traces, along with fleeting fragments brought by the essence. If he could actually deduce the mystery behind the Eternal Empire's fall from this alone, why bother being a craftsman? Wouldn't it be far more sensible to park himself on Aether's Sovereign Virtue seat and become a prophet instead? He couldn't make heads or tails of it. Still, there was no point dwelling on what couldn't be understood. More importantly, he needed to focus on the present. For instance— Ji Jue looked down at his hands. —the harvest brought by the essence!