On the Collection of Fixed Fate, the remaining pages were burning away at terrifying speed!
Page after page vanished as if fed into an industrial shredder—even faster, in fact…
There was no helping it; the enemy was simply too vicious.
Now, three shadows of the Grandmaster—representing old age, prime, and youth—stood together, each more underhanded than the last. It was equivalent to three AI models trained entirely on Beigong's dataset, wielding Beigong's own creations within Beigong's workshop to torment intruders…
Short of Beigong arriving in person, this was virtually indistinguishable from his true presence.
To genuinely gauge their depths and variations, to uncover the opponent's trump cards and patterns, they had to throw lives into trial and error, using their very bodies to buy time.
Yet the window of time they could rewind was shrinking by the second.
Back within the Profound, they had still been able to leap back ten minutes. Here within the workshop, facing the shadows of Beigong, only a single second remained.
Soon, even that single second would be out of reach.
The surviving pages were down to the barest few.
Amid wipeout after wipeout and grievous wounds, violent shockwaves continued to ripple through the workshop.
Those three reflections manifested in Beigong's likeness were essentially amalgamations of countless blessings and creations brought together to form the three core modules of the workshop. What they wielded were none other than the three Masterworks Beigong had painstakingly crafted for this exact purpose in bygone days!
The old man's reflection was the Hall of Bone Gathering, governing suppression. It diminished the effectiveness of all intruders while possessing the ability to forcibly sever a target from all external aids at any moment, stripping them down to their baseline form.
The middle-aged man's reflection was the Unfinished Work, responsible for degradation. As long as it existed, it constantly wore down the durability and rank of all nearby creations and living souls.
The youth's reflection was the Sword of Beginning and End, presiding over extermination. Once targets were weakened to a certain threshold beneath the Hall of Bone Gathering's suppression and the Unfinished Work's degradation—or whenever the slightest opening presented itself—it automatically triggered an execution strike to uproot the danger once and for all.
These three reflections were tailored specifically to counter fellow artisans!
Beyond this, there should have been numerous auxiliary workshop mechanisms. Had the Association not pre-emptively detonated the vast majority of them, the strike team wouldn't have possessed even the ghost of a chance to prolong their meager breaths until now.
"At last…"
Following yet another death, Ji Jue gasped in sudden revelation. Within the Mirror of Contained Forms, the circulation of numerous currents of spiritus flashed briefly, reflected in his eyes.
Under the scrutiny of the Mirror of Contained Forms, the countless currents of spiritus flowing between the three reflections were as dense as a spiderweb, answering and echoing one another like two sides of the same coin—a unified trinity!
Even if only one remained, the other two could reconstitute in an instant, even if reduced to ash and smoke!
*Boom!*
Under the unrelenting degradation, Ji Jue's Regeneration form lost control once more and detonated. A crucial fragment of Chunjun shot outward, driving straight into Jiang Tongguang's body to deliver the fruits of his observation.
With that, the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.
"…Well done!"
Amid the blazing flames, Jiang Tongguang—reduced nearly to a skeletal husk—grinned silently. Tossing his head back, he roared at the top of his lungs, "Despina!!!"
Despina made no sound, kneeling motionless upon the ground, suspended between life and death.
The dachshund nestled in her arms snapped its head up with a hoarse screech, screaming at the limit of its lungs as it broke free from its final fetters. Down from the void fell the Sword of Beginning and End, cleaving its skull clean in two down the middle. Yet immediately afterward, both halves swelled rapidly, splitting from one into two—slashed again, split again; split again, slashed again!
Eye after eye opened from the flesh, only to be torn apart by the frigid glint upon the blade.
Having endured the destruction of the Sword of Beginning and End time and again, the dachshund implanted with the blood of the Hundred-Eyed Giant finally completed its Metamorphosis. In a flash, thousands upon thousands of heads erupted forth like a torrential downpour, their faces covered in scales and carapace, blood-flames soaring high as their jaws gaped and hurled themselves toward the three phantoms!
A complete and total outbreak!
And then, swift annihilation.
Before the united trinity of phantom shadows, a mere counterattack held no meaning and could pose no hindrance whatsoever.
Under the suppression of the Hall of Bone Gathering, it ground to an abrupt halt, degrading at the speed of light, withering rapidly, before being thoroughly expunged by the darkness brought down by the Sword of Beginning and End.
All it had bought was a mere snap of the fingers.
Yet in that fleeting instant when the Hall of Bone Gathering's suppression—which stripped external aids—momentarily dispersed, the sound of tearing paper echoed relentlessly. In a heartbeat, ten pages burned away from the Collection of Fixed Fate in Jiang Tongguang's hand, leaving only a scant few behind.
It forcibly restored all survivors to their intact state prior to entering the Profound—a full-blooded resurrection!
Immediately following, without a shred of hesitation, everyone lunged forward!
There was only one chance.
When that chance arrived, there was not a fraction of a second to spare for second thoughts. All they could do was discard every stray thought, focus on what was right before their eyes, and pour everything they were into fulfilling their final duty.
For status, for faction, for lineage, for advancement, for vengeance…
Every single person who joined this Absolute Sentence possessed a reason far weightier than their own life—a conviction for which they would not hesitate even in the face of death!
Just as it was right now.
Within the squad, a trembling, hunched elder pressed his hands together. The pupils behind his mask grew hollow; his soul and spirit dispersed together, crumbling away into flying ash.
The cracked mask fell from midair. Upon the fractured ground, countless minute wooden sprouts burst into rapid growth.
Just as a whale's fall brings life to myriad things, a craftsman poured his life's blood and artifice into this final offering to the Embers, culminating in his supreme creation!
In the space of a breath, countless plant forms, flickering like phantoms, took root and sprouted from his final Domain, flourishing wildly to fill every corner of the hall. Sucking dry the surrounding matter and spiritus, they completed their ultimate transmutation.
Dropping from the heavy flowerbuds and fruits were innumerable tiny crystalline beads. Beads measuring less than a millimeter struck the stone floor, their crisp echoes overlapping and swelling into a crescendo that steadily transformed into a thundering tidal wave!
They carried no miraculous effects and possessed no destructive power. Yet with every impact and collision, those tiny crystals shuddered, shaking loose afterimages that solidified from void to substance, colliding anew, splitting anew.
In the brief span of a finger-snap, a scattering drizzle swelled into a monstrous tsunami.
Amid the dachshund's persistent harassment, the middle-aged shadow suddenly hitched, freezing for a fraction of a heartbeat. Then it hitched again, and yet again!
Just like video playback buffering and stuttering.
When the shadow's perception registered the myriad creations, pervasive degradation began to fall upon them. Those crystal beads were far too minute—so negligible as to not even warrant mention—yet their numbers were terrifyingly vast, vast enough that even omnipresent degradation could not erase them in a single stroke.
Simultaneously, within the judgment of the Hall of Bone Gathering that stripped external aids, these were not counted as external objects.
The final creation forged by a Master of Embers at the cost of his own soul and everything he was, transmuted through a Domain, could almost entirely be regarded as the artisan himself!
Were it merely a puppet, it might have been thrown into disarray by rigid operational rules. But how could a shadow of Beigong ever be left helpless?
If it could not be suppressed or degraded, then it would simply and cleanly be exterminated!
The Sword of Beginning and End mobilized at full capacity, bringing down indiscriminate ruin!
The shadow of Beigong in the likeness of a youth had already raised a hand. Within his palm, Beginning and End materialized.
As the workshop's disposal system, it was akin to a universal utility tool, a super multi-tool Swiss army knife packing thirty-six functions into one. It possessed every fundamental archetype of destruction, along with countless high-end variations and applications. Manifesting as a blade was merely for convenience; had the need arisen, it could be a sword, a spear, shapeless darkness, flame, hoarfrost, illusory bubbles of light, or even outright negation and erasure…
Yet at that very moment, at the outer fringes of the shadow's perception, far to the rear of all the artisans, Jiang Tongguang—who had retreated behind everyone without anyone noticing—raised the Collection of Fixed Fate in his grip and gave it a faint wave.
The tome, already pared down to its last remnants through reckless expenditure, slipped from Jiang Tongguang's fingers and tumbled through the air…
This was the final bait.
And for this, too, there was only one chance!
The arbitration mechanism of the Sword of Beginning and End made its choice.
Compared to countless inconsequential crystal beads, exterminating the troublesome book that kept interfering with causality was an infinitely higher priority!
And so, naturally, the blade turned.
The instant it left his hand, the Collection of Fixed Fate disintegrated into ash, vanishing completely. Yet in Jiang Tongguang's hand, there appeared a weathered, bronze-green wine jue.
"Dreams of the past, too many to tell; night falls upon the wine, and all at once I wake."
A hoarse voice echoed through the magnificent hall. As the jue tilted, a ripple of shimmering light spread outward from beneath Jiang Tongguang's feet. Wherever it touched, ruins seemed to transform into palatial halls, fractured pillars knit back into wholeness, and everything that had withered and fallen into decay returned to the glorious, solemn splendor of bygone days.
The Celestial-Human Chronowedge unfolded right here.
Everything seemed to become so wondrous; all colors turned impossibly vivid and radiant. Distant singing drifted into the ears, while the nose caught a faint, sweet, and pure fragrance.
It was as if someone had raised a cup in invitation.
Life is full of bitterness and grief; why not indulge in a drink?
Indeed, one did not even need to partake.
Wine does not intoxicate a man; a man intoxicates himself.
The moment that ripple of light met their sight, a trace of drunkenness seemed to rise in the hollow eyes of the three shadows. The corners of their lips curved slightly upward, lost in pleasant revelry.
What their senses received was an unprecedented lightness; what they recalled were past memories that did not belong to them; what they felt were loves and hates they could not control!
A state of drunken life and dreamy death!
As all phenomena sank into drunken stupor and stagnation, Jiang Tongguang's eyes finally blazed to life. That trace of a smile, ever lingering with drunkenness and indolence, vanished completely.
What surged forth after waking from prolonged intoxication was a lifetime's worth of bitter hatred and accumulated madness!
Once again, he remembered the past he would rather hide from in endless drunken slumber and dreams, the past he never wished to face.
The agony of losing everything, the despair of betrayal, and the horrifying spectacle that had utterly ruined his world.
Endless slaughter among fellow disciples: killing his master, killing his senior brothers, killing his junior sisters, killing his students!
First one, then another, and then the next… If once was not enough, do it again; if twice was not enough, do it thrice. Every last one had to be slaughtered; not a single one could be spared!
Only in this way could their final purity remain untainted. Only in this manner could he reclaim their last shred of dignity as artisans.
Even if he had to soil his own hands, even if he would never find release in this lifetime…
Apart from him, there was no one left who could do it!
*It's fine. Just leave it to me.*
*Everyone… please, die in peace…*
When he raised the wine jue once more, having poured out a bitter draught brewed from a lifetime of love and hate, all that remained in the vessel was a single wisp of pale white, distilled and sublimated from boundless bitterness, hatred, and madness.
Using this as a sword, sever the Profound!
The instant that wisp of pale white flashed past, Jiang Tongguang had already materialized behind the youth. The phantom's expression froze for a heartbeat, twitching faintly, as if startled from a dream.
Then, completely beyond control, it dispersed into smoke and ash!
Immediately following, an unstoppable shattering began.
Chapter 814