"Impossible… impossible..." Jin Yu kept muttering under his breath.
But he also understood—Yun Jin was right.
No one under the heavens would dare forge the sect master's image.
This projection… was most likely real.
The sect master had once been defeated.
And that was something he could not comprehend.
That duel should have been known only to the sect master and that Wan Dao Saint.
So why had the sect master chosen to reveal it?
Wouldn't this tarnish his own reputation?
Kunlun Sword Sect.
Ji Wusi stood quietly, gazing through thick layers of drifting clouds, as though he could see the scene unfolding in Lin City.
A calm smile curved on his lips.
He wasn't like the Wan Dao Saint, who mastered countless paths.
He had only a single sword—and one heart.
The path he walked had always revolved around one word: truth.
Truth in his sword.
Truth in his heart.
Being known as the world's number one—of course that was something to be proud of.
But if he had once lost, so what?
He lost to the Wan Dao Saint, not to anyone standing here today.
Ji Wusi murmured to himself.
"Wan Dao, Wan Dao… I really did you and the Wushuang Sect a huge favor this time. Shame you're already dead. If you ever get a chance to look back on this world, maybe you'll finally taste what it feels like to be known far and wide."
Ji Wusi knew the Wan Dao Saint had always been a low-profile person, never fond of fame or glory. But he was already dead.
What could he possibly say now?
The thought amused Ji Wusi. He took a satisfied sip of wine.
In the outer-realm dimension.
A man sneezed out of nowhere.
"Boss?" someone asked, puzzled.
At their cultivation level, sneezing was virtually unheard of.
The man rubbed his nose, looking a little bewildered. "...This ominous feeling keeps getting stronger."
The words had barely left his mouth when another Demon Clan force surged out from the vortex above.
The man immediately forgot everything else and sprang into battle.
Several days later.
They had repelled yet another wave of invaders. But a deep crease furrowed the man's brow.
Time flowed differently here. A hundred years had passed in this outer-realm space. In the outside world, it had been a full millennium.
They had been holding the line here for a century. There was only one good thing to come from it.
When the Demon Clan first invaded this world, they quickly realized this space was detached from the true realm. Crossing through the vortex came with a cost. And without the ability to claim an entire world, it simply wasn't worth their effort.
Later, they had tried to plunder the Wushuang Sect's wealth and secret arts. But the disciples had abandoned the sect entirely, resolving instead to wage a guerrilla war.
When the Demon Clan breached the sect grounds, they discovered to their fury that the Wushuang Sect's most vital legacies were already gone—relocated, though they didn't know when.
The Demon Clan resented how the Wushuang Sect had shifted into an outer-realm dimension and even stripped their own sect bare, leaving not a single benefit behind. Ever since, they'd launched frequent harassment campaigns.
Now, a hundred years had passed.
Countless disciples of the Wushuang Sect had died in battle.
Even the man himself was reaching his limit.
At most…
At most, they could hold out another ten years.
When that time came…
He too would fall in battle.
"Boss, I don't think we can survive many more of these," said a woman, her voice weary.
The man offered a gentle smile. "That day, when we made our choice, we all expected to die. To have lasted a hundred years since then… we're already living on borrowed time. Fifth Sister, if we meet again in the underworld, I'd say that's a fine reunion."
The woman chuckled. "You're right."
Another man beside them quipped, "Let's not be so gloomy. What if someone out there becomes a peerless cultivator, finds this outer-realm space, defeats the Demon Clan, and saves us? Didn't you leave a legacy behind, Boss? Who's to say your successor won't find us?"
He said it in jest, and everyone laughed along.
Ten more years.
Even accounting for the time discrepancy—
That meant only a hundred years in the outside world.
Including the thousand years already passed, it wasn't that long for cultivators like them.
In such a short time, how could someone reach a level powerful enough to discover this place and also repel the Demon Clan?
It was as good as impossible.
The man laughed as well.
But after a moment, his expression subtly shifted.
Huh?
"Boss, what is it?" someone asked.
He hesitated.
He wasn't sure how to explain. Just now, Third Brother had been joking… but something about that joke had made his heart jolt.
He had already reached the pinnacle of the mortal realm, barely brushing against the edge of Supreme Laws.
In such a state, his intuition was rarely wrong.
A trace of confusion passed through his gaze.
What was happening?
Could it be that his successor out there… really was stirring things up?
Impossible, impossible.
His successor was surely just as gentle and refined as he was—how could they cause such a stir?
Maybe… maybe this premonition was simply telling him that his successor was formidable. Perhaps, one day, they really could find their way here.
Thinking that brought both relief and unease.
Without full certainty, he didn't want his only successor to risk everything to come to this outer-realm space.
But there was nothing he could do now.
All he could do was hope that his successor out there would act wisely, and never move recklessly.
In Lin City.
Yun Jin was still shouting into the loudspeaker.
"Did you all see that? Our Wushuang Sect's former leader, the Wan Dao Saint, was just that powerful—absolutely unmatched. But now you're probably wondering: If he was so incredible, how come no one's ever heard of him?"
Her voice dipped low.
"That brings us to a catastrophe from a thousand years ago. Please—watch the projection."
This time—
She showed the recording she had seen before.
As everyone watched the swirling vortex fill the skies, dark and ominous, a chill ran through their hearts.
Just one glance made it clear—that vortex spelled trouble.
Then came the Wan Dao Saint's voice, explaining that the vortex led to another great world—one dominated by the Demon Clan, whose strength far surpassed their own.
What were they supposed to do against that?
Everyone stared, hearts tightening.
Even Jin Yu and his group were focused, their expressions solemn.
These were secrets lost for a thousand years. Then came the moment when the Wushuang Sect called upon the Four Holy Lands.
Within the projection, Jin Yu and the others spotted familiar faces. Back then, the strongest cultivators of the human race had all gone to Yunhai Mountain, where they worked together to seal the passage.
Phew.
A collective sigh of relief swept through the crowd.
With all Four Holy Lands involved, surely the seal had worked?
But just as that relief set in—
Yunhai Mountain turned to chaos.
The Demon Clan tried to force their way through.
At the most critical moment—
The Wushuang Sect poured everything they had into a final act. They activated a grand array and moved the entire sect into the outer-realm dimension, cutting the passage off from this world completely.
In those final moments—
Everyone heard the voices of Wushuang Sect disciples vowing to lay down their lives. For a moment, it felt unreal.
When the projection ended, the skies had calmed, and Yunhai Mountain, the Wushuang Sect, and that terrifying vortex—were all gone.
The vision faded to black.
Silence blanketed the crowd. Some had unknowingly shed tears.
Outside the small house—
Qin Ping stood with his head raised. He had heard vague tales of the Wushuang Sect's sacrifice. But this was the first time he had seen it with his own eyes—those dazzling geniuses, giving their lives for the sake of all.
"Master…" Beside him, Feng Linglong's voice trembled. "Can I… can I join the Wushuang Sect?"