The ideas within the inheritance mirrored her own so precisely, even the methods of breaking formations were identical. It was not only smooth to follow, but also carried a sense of intimacy and familiarity.
Feng Jiuxiao grew increasingly captivated the more she studied, the more she enjoyed it. Many previously unclear points suddenly became much clearer. She felt as if awakening from a dream, clutching the inheritance tighter and tighter.
Song Wanníng was not surprised. Only someone who truly loved the art would understand the exhilaration of encountering such a precious inheritance. She did not urge Feng Jiuxiao, simply waiting quietly at the side.
An hour passed in a flash. Feng Jiuxiao finally withdrew from the inheritance, her expression still one of lingering delight, eyes full of admiration.
"I never imagined that my future self could achieve this level in the path of formations!"
She felt great satisfaction with her future development and looked forward to her growth.
"Senior's comprehension of the formation path is extremely profound. It is a pity that Junior…"
Song Wanníng shook her head with a smile. To be left in her hands was indeed a waste. Hearing this, Feng Jiuxiao lifted her gaze. Her eyes finally changed as she looked at Song Wanníng.
"You have no talent in formations, yet I am willing to entrust this inheritance to you. That means you must be truly exceptional! I must like you very much!"
She knew her own character well. If she did not feel a connection, she would rather destroy the inheritance than give it to another. Her future self must greatly admire Song Wanníng.
"Now that I have this inheritance, my understanding of formations will deepen once more. Perhaps when you return, you will find the content of the inheritance has changed."
The mysteries of time and space were profound. Such changes could ripple outward, causing a series of effects and transformations.
This playful remark suddenly sparked Song Wanníng's awareness.
"Senior, if it is possible, could you do me a favor? I have encountered a problem."
She explained the situation regarding the central region being cut off from the four realms to Feng Jiuxiao.
"If you have the time, could you help me consider how to undo the separation?"
To restore the world, the barrier to the spiritual realm should be opened first, allowing dense spiritual energy to spread and nourish the entire realm.
If it could not be done, she would not insist, only trying to see if it was possible.
Feng Jiuxiao nodded and asked in detail about the characteristics of the restriction, committing them to memory.
"Little girl, I must thank you for sending me this inheritance."
She had thought comprehending the formation here would be her greatest gain, but the real reward had just arrived.
"But how will you leave?"
Entering a time fragment, how could one return to the correct timeline?
"I do not know either," Song Wanníng shook her head. "But I think it has something to do with the attic here."
Her Luck was extremely high now, allowing her to sense the Heavenly Dao's subtle guidance—intuition, essentially.
"Very well. Then I will help you leave here. We can try to find a chance to send you back!"
Feng Jiuxiao worried that if Song Wanníng remained too long, the time fragment could erase her. After all, she did not belong here, and unknown variables could arise.
"Thank you so much, Senior!" Song Wanníng nodded respectfully.
If Mu Zixu saw her current demeanor, he would surely exclaim that she had two completely different faces.
Feng Jiuxiao began attempting to unravel the formation. After several tries, the formation finally opened. The vast starry sky instantly changed, revealing a desolate wilderness. For thousands of miles, the ground was devoid of green, only dotted with raised grave mounds.
Feng Jiuxiao frowned, immediately sensing something amiss.
Song Wanníng, however, finally sensed the strange energy fluctuation.
"This place is…"
"An ancient battlefield ruin?"
Feng Jiuxiao seemed to recognize the location, a streak of killing intent flashing in her eyes. Ancient battlefields were full of Yin energy and murderous energy, unbearable to ordinary people. Many would act out in extreme ways.
Even they dared not linger.
"An ancient battlefield?"
Song Wanníng's eyes glinted. After the demon war, the world had suffered many wars. This might be the remains of one. Following the energy, she saw it emanated from a single grave mound.
"What is it?"
Feng Jiuxiao looked over, a hint of doubt in her eyes.
"I feel that grave is unusual."
Song Wanníng raised a hand, pointing at the mound, her gaze sharp and intense.
"Then let's go check it out."
Without further words, Feng Jiuxiao walked toward it, and Song Wanníng immediately followed.
Soon, the two stopped before the grave.
"There is no formation energy here, nor any abnormalities that I can sense. It seems this is up to you."
After careful examination, Feng Jiuxiao found nothing. She realized this place must be connected to Song Wanníng's fate.
Song Wanníng pressed her lips, eyes fixed on the gravestone.
All the gravestones were blank. No names, no mention of the tomb builders.
Yet the strong energy fluctuation stirred unease in her heart.
She stared, lost in thought.
…
"Kill—"
"Kill—"
"Ah!"
"Fight them—"
"Charge—"
Countless shouts erupted in her ears.
Song Wanníng snapped back, only to see the scene completely transformed.
Magic spells covered the sky, painting it in dazzling colors. Yet more prominent were the flying severed limbs and spattering blood. From time to time, explosions rang out. The scene was so tragic that Song Wanníng's spine chilled, freezing in place.
During ancient wars, she had seen the collapse of heaven and earth, mountains and seas overturned. But now, the scene was endless bloodshed and utter despair.
Both sides fought with complete madness, disregarding their own safety. The desperate screams nearly pierced her eardrums. Among thousands of cultivators, she noticed a single figure at the center of the battle.
He was covered in blood, ruthlessly swinging a great blade, his expression numb. Swinging the blade seemed etched into his very bones. Every strike was instinctual.
Song Wanníng focused on him, the others fading from her view. She watched as the man sustained injury after injury while continuing to claim his enemies' lives. The scene gradually became entirely red.
Until…
The man fell with a thunderous crash. Yet the great blade in his hand remained upright, boundless killing intent surging outward.
Even Song Wanníng felt the overwhelming murderous aura rushing toward her. Her body could not move as she watched it approach.
In that instant, she felt the presence of death. Her brows knitted. The Xiao Jin in her sea of consciousness suddenly shot forth, striking back at the great blade.
Boom—
The massive collision struck. The murderous aura vanished abruptly.