Between Being and Non-Being

A qualified artisan never mistakes his materials. Whether fine timber and precious jade or mud, sand, and filth, if it can be used, its utility should be pushed to the limit. Whether medicine or poison, as long as it works, there should be no hesitation. Yet sometimes, no matter how keen one's eye, how lofty one's perspective, or how rich one's experience, when faced with a bizarre anomaly like Ji Jue—possessing a dual nature of god and demon, where medicine and poison were inseparable—one could not help but want to gouge out their own eyes. What in the hell is this thing! In fact, the more experienced and profound one's mastery, the harder it was to make a judgment. Kanemoto firmly believed that he would one day plunge into Stagnant Rot; Ye Xian was convinced he would surely become a Masterwork; as for Tianlu—he didn't give a damn! The mortal world was a furnace; Heaven's Mandate took ten thousand forms. There were things even a grandmaster like him could not fathom, see clearly, or wrap his head around. When it came to such an uncanny variable, how could there be any talk of 'inevitability'? Success or failure, medicine or poison, virtue or sin—none of it mattered. Let Ji Jue choose for himself! Perhaps in other respects, Tianlu truly didn't know and had no certainty, but on one point he could speak from personal experience: aside from being able to stir up trouble, work hard, and get things done, this little dog-bastard really chewed through GPUs and devoured RAM. Back when he had enabled creative mode for Ji Jue, the Tower of Myriad Transformations had burned through resources like crazy, nearly burning a hole through the Association's reserves and giving Delong a stroke— In the end, Tianlu had to dig into his private stash to cover the deficit! If you gave him free rein to go wild, he was sure to give you one hell of an eye-opener! Now, that very same opportunity lay before Ji Jue, and it was high time the Profound experienced the Association's pain! BOOM! Reset to the starting point, Eschatology accelerated once more! Engines overloaded, spinning in a frantic overdrive—countless curled, writhing fingers opened once again, guiding the phenomena within the tapestry, beginning anew the weaving, evolving, and proving, once more propelling the apocalypse! And so, Ji Jue drew his sword, rolling up his sleeves and plunging back in! The cycle of despair replayed once again. Only this time, there seemed to be quite a few more people falling into despair— By now, it was too late for reconciliation. Advancing toward Sage or Dragon wasn't like driving; you couldn't get on the road, find out license plate restrictions were in effect today, and back up to go home pretending nothing had happened. Even Elder Zhen had no way to stop now, nor could he afford to. The moment he stopped, the first thing to collapse would be the Griefsmith itself! He had to believe—believe in the Principle of the Griefsmith he had completed, believe that amidst the predestined corruption and torment, the first to be utterly consumed would be Ji Jue. Yet before that could happen, what commenced was an unending cycle of suffering. When countless steel structures rose from the earth anew upon the land and a brand-new apocalypse was cast once again, from within black flames towering between heaven and earth, a brand-new Ji Jue stepped out once more, drew his blade once again, and severed his own head. Everything was severed once more, and the cycle restarted yet again. The gradually spiraling, manic cycle grew faster and faster; each natural, expected evolution would collapse beneath the malicious loophole named Ji Jue. Between sea and sky, the scenes within Eschatology whirled past like a film playing at thousands, tens of thousands of times normal speed—continually verging on collapse, continually rallying, launching charge after charge toward an unreachable finish line. Like a hero drawing his sword to challenge an invincible demon! It was so utterly thrilling and blood-boiling! Not only the Association and the Profound, but even the churning rainbow light across the sky fell silent. Countless onlookers gazed upon this spectacle, struck dumb. Speechless. Is this... right? Is this how it's supposed to be? Why does your Embers look even more sinister than Stagnant Rot? Just whose champion is this guy anyway? Every second, every instant, every snap of the fingers was a futile cycle. Amidst the endless flux of time, through boundless remaking and corruption, through untold successions and exhaustion, the figure deeply entangled within the Griefsmith showed neither wear nor aberration—instead, the more he fought, the fiercer he became! What kind of damned monster was that? No one answered. Ji Jue drew his blade once again, severed his head, and stepped without hesitation into a brand-new cycle. In the unending acceleration, even he fell into a daze and bewilderment, as if trapped in nightmare after endless nightmare, waking up time and time again. The old Ji Jue burned away to ash in the flames; the new Ji Jue was reborn in the fire. An exchange bordering on suicide, an irrevocable shattering and demise— In the cycle of obsession, souls drifted, the old giving way to the new. He saw himself deeply mired in corruption, plunging into Stagnant Rot, and saw yet another self created anew, walking step by step toward the finish line. Yet which side was he truly on? And which one was actually him? All of them were; they were all paths the artisan named Ji Jue would tread, all futures forged by his obsession. Yet none of them were either, for none was the complete Ji Jue. Then where am I? In the infinite cycle, his obsession relied on one reconstructed Rebirth Form after another to achieve renewal, birth, and death. Yet his soul seemed torn completely apart by it, countless fragments scattered across the cycles— The vast heavens and earth are entirely mine; the shifting myriad phenomena all rest within my grasp! Yet where do I exist? The blade hummed, slashed down, severing everything once more. Myriad phenomena turn to ash alongside me; the world journeys with me into nothingness; yet where do I perish? Shattered again and again, recombined again and again. He existed in every link simultaneously, turning to ash at the same time he was reborn anew. Like a constantly replaced Ship of Theseus, amidst unending birth and death, through the relentless shifting of sea and land, it remained its original self. Yet was this Embers, or Stagnant Rot? Was he— 'Being,' or 'Non-Being'? When the words of the Scavenger echoed once more from the depths of his soul, the countless fragments scattered throughout the cycles trembled slightly, stirring a brand-new resonance. In the chaotic darkness, a dreamlike wisp of flame seemed to rise, illuminating Ji Jue's eyes. So that's how it is— BOOM! The cycle ground to an abrupt halt. Upon the altar at the dead center of the apocalypse, when the artisan bound by the Principle of the Griefsmith completed his final creation once more, within the dissipating flames, there was nothing. No new Ji Jue walked out from them! The succession was severed here! Yet as the apocalypse operated and evolved as though ecstatic, congregating all mutations and pouring its essence toward the artisan atop the altar, the sound of cracking rang out. From within the pitch-black flames, the artisan about to complete the Testament of the Apocalypse raised his head, as if offering a contemptuous smirk. And immediately after, he disintegrated inch by inch. Reduced to ash and dust! Amidst a cataclysmic roar, the evolution of Eschatology ground to an abrupt halt once again! It had lost its target. It was as if, at the crucial link of transmutation, a vital material had suddenly vanished, leaving everything impossible to sustain. When the malicious loophole named Ji Jue disappeared from the system, the Testament of the Apocalypse did not continue toward completion as expected; instead, a shocking void appeared! The Griefsmith raged; the apocalypse shook violently. The Saintly Fool Instrument searched exhaustively for everything, yet could no longer find any trace of Ji Jue! Even the artisan's lingering obsession had returned to nothingness alongside the extinguished flames. It was as if an invisible hand had reached out, completely negating everything created by the artisan named Ji Jue along with his very self, erasing him from the core of Eschatology! Freezing this hideous cycle, together with the nearly completed apocalypse, entirely in place. Between sea and sky fell absolute silence. Upon the Saintly Fool Instrument, countless writhing fingers twitched violently, their movements guiding the tapestry frozen stiff in place; the vision of doom solidified completely, stagnant. Amidst the silence, everyone involuntarily looked toward the dead center of the apocalypse, toward that gradually expanding breach and void. In pure darkness, in pure nothingness, something seemed to faintly surge, shift, and circulate, gradually giving rise to a speck of... faint light? Like a flame. Flickering for an instant, leaping, sprouting from nothingness. As though finally waking from an endless dream, opening his eyes to look upon everything before him. First, he had lost the power to sustain a body; then, he had lost the vessel capable of bearing a soul; next, he had lost the soul used to maintain consciousness; after that, he had lost the consciousness achieved by obsession; and finally, even the obsession itself had been annihilated into nothingness. Yet what was it that existed here now? In the void, between being and non-being, that final wisp of flame leaped silently. Burning. Even with nothing at all, even having returned to nothingness, it still surged upward with peerless arrogance. As if by instinct, wanting once again to reach out a hand. Toward the world before him— This heart never perishes! Therefore, creation never ceases! In that instant, the tiny flame shook violently, grasped in an invisible palm. What it triggered was a chain reaction like a tempestuous storm! As if time itself were reversing! Amidst that faint wisp of flame that seemed both present and absent, the obsession that had vanished without a trace manifested once more, followed closely by the shattered consciousness knitting itself back together. The soul that had been reduced to nothingness reappeared from converging spiritus, a sea of fragments once again completing their assembly, returning to wholeness. A resonant clang like a sword's resonance burst from the flame, calling out to the mortal realm. Dispersed ash flew in from all directions; countless gleams of iron surged and gathered, forming tiny metal components that pieced together into a mechanical heart. When the invisible hand clenched once more, the heart of steel jolted abruptly, throbbing like thunder as purple lightning and black flames surged from within, unleashing a torrent of light and heat. Within the raging flames, a metal skeleton rapidly grew. Thousands of spiritus conduits swayed like nerves in the wind; gears, bearings, bolts, pistons, gaskets, chains—connecting, sealing, transmitting—the intricate engineering materialized from nothingness, unfolding seamlessly. In the snap of a finger, the great work was accomplished! When the sound of a heartbeat rang out once more within the hollow shell, Ji Jue opened his eyes. He looked toward the earth, the sky, the ruins, the apocalypse, and even down at the wisp of flame resting in his palm, hovering between being and non-being. Still tiny, still flickering, yet so dazzling. Pitch-black and silver-white flowed, shifting incessantly. This single wisp of faint light alone seemed to illuminate the entire world! Here, he proclaimed to all phenomena of the apocalypse. He said, "I am here!" BOOM! The frozen world erupted in thunderous sound; the stagnant apocalypse resumed in fury. Time accelerated, and amidst the weaving of the Saintly Fool Instrument, the evolution of Eschatology began anew. The cycle restarted, the wheel turning endlessly. The omnipresent Principle of the Griefsmith converged once more, tangling around him and urging him forward toward destined destruction. Yet this time, Ji Jue likewise reached out his hand. Fingers spread wide, overestimating his own strength, he reached toward the impossibly lofty sky, toward that hollow pair of eyes growing clearer and more sinister! As if to make an enemy of the entire world, to wrestle with the whole apocalypse! To seize so-called Heaven's Mandate in his own grasp! Yet under the watchful eyes of all, when those spread fingers clenched shut, there was still only nothingness in his palm. As expected. He hadn't managed to catch anything— Ji Jue paused for a moment, as though deep in thought. Then, he reached out his hand once more. Distant sneers and soft sighs echoed. Among the gazes between sea and sky witnessing this, untold numbers showed pity, while untold others could hardly conceal their disdain. Since ancient times, Heaven's will had been too lofty to fathom. The gap was simply too vast. The loftiness of Heaven's Mandate, the creation of the Griefsmith—how could a single hand of yours ever... ever... Wait! Fuck! Bro, hold on! What the hell are you— Sudden silence fell. Countless contemptuous and pitying gazes jolted in utter incomprehension. —What the fuck did he just grab?! A sharp sound like shattering glass rang out, piercing and continuous. The hand Ji Jue had thrust out contracted and clenched tight once more. Cracks spread outward between his fingers, like an unfinished tapestry creasing under violent ravaging. The ethereal Principle of the Griefsmith could no longer flow; it ground to a halt, its very essence touched by that reaching hand—and even seized within his grip! The weaving of the apocalypse paused for an instant, as if encountering an impassable, insolvable knot! He caught it! Ji Jue closed his eyes, laughing silently. He heard it—a crisp sound ringing from the void, like shackles falling away, as an invisible gate long sealed under dust swung open before him. Back when Ji Jue had reappeared, the rank of Exaltation had already fallen into place naturally, without the slightest obstruction. And then, as a matter of course— "[Encircled Realm], unfold!"