Although Andrew Han possessed a strong and resolute nature, he was instantly bewildered when faced with such a bizarre event.
Whoosh, whoosh.
The bleak November winds swept across the sky a thousand meters high, making the low-hanging clouds drift and Andrew Han’s expression shift again and again. "Did my Inspiration actually eat the Sun-Killing Mirror?"
More accurately, it was an active fusion.
His Inspiration had already crystallized into a true diamond-like substance, capable of touching physical objects. The moment it made contact with the silvery Sun-Killing Mirror bead, it swept the orb up and triggered a series of inexplicable changes.
The oval Sun-Killing Mirror instantly dispersed, as if breaking down into molecular particles.
Then, the now soft and gentle Sun-Killing Mirror seemed to turn into drifting mist, merging with Andrew’s Inspiration. Acting on instinct, Andrew retracted his Inspiration, and the Mirror was drawn into his mind.
"Strange."
"The silvery Sun-Killing Mirror bead didn’t act on its own—it remained completely still. Instead, my Inspiration took the initiative, forcibly closing the distance and merging with it."
Andrew Han shook his head, his face growing more serious.
The silvery Sun-Killing Mirror bead was a tangible object, with a remarkable texture—he had just experienced it himself. But for it to dissolve into nothingness upon contact with Inspiration was truly inconceivable.
"Hmm."
"It must have triggered some kind of mechanism."
Hovering in the sky, Andrew Han quickly sat cross-legged, pressed a finger to his brow, and carefully sensed the crystal-diamond Inspiration within his mind.
At this moment, his crystal-diamond Inspiration was slowly rotating.
It was as if nothing had happened just now... but as Andrew observed closely, he immediately noticed something unusual about his crystal-diamond Inspiration.
It seemed...
...to have become brighter, more translucent and pure.
"Interesting."
Andrew tried spreading his Inspiration. The nearly colorless light of Inspiration swirled around his body, possessing a terrifying power to awe all living things, yet it felt no different from before.
He tried again, but the result was the same.
Another attempt—still nothing unusual.
"No, that's not right."
"My Inspiration has absorbed the entire Sun-Killing Mirror, but all it did was become a little more crystalline?" Andrew Han frowned. "Its quantity and intensity haven’t increased at all."
Confusion welled up inside him; something felt off.
He pondered for a long time.
Andrew Han shook his head, suppressing his stray thoughts. "I’ll check on Master first, then go home and rest for a few days. I need to study this thoroughly."
Besides—
What if Supreme Zhang asks to borrow the Sun-Killing Mirror?
Andrew blinked. He couldn't possibly admit that his Inspiration had gone mad and 'devoured' the Sun-Killing Mirror—a treasure from an ultra-ancient era, with untold years of history. Beyond restraining Netherfiends, it held limitless scientific value.
From this day forward—
The renowned Sun-Killing Mirror has vanished from the human world.
He sighed.
"Even I have to admit, calling myself insane for this is probably a first." After a moment’s thought, Andrew Han transformed into a blur too fast for the naked eye, descending toward the residential complex below.
No matter how precious a treasure is, people matter more.
As long as Andrew Han exists, the Sun-Killing Mirror’s disappearance is no loss. After all, it hadn’t shown itself in years.
In truth—
The Inspiration spreading outside his body was indeed different from before.
Previously, even fully materialized Inspiration would only radiate as light, sensing the size and shape of objects—Inspiration could restrain Netherfiends, but it could never affect reality itself.
But now, his Inspiration was scattering the tiny dust particles in the air.
Andrew Han couldn’t perceive it—the interference was far too subtle. Only a Supreme Saint standing face to face might notice his Inspiration shattering dust particles.
There had never been a power like this in the world.
Tracing back to the origins of martial power, even to the dawn of human civilization, there has never existed a force where consciousness could interfere with reality itself.
......
Time flowed on, day and night taking turns.
The sun set and rose as usual, but the world’s nations found themselves in a completely new situation.
Having survived the first full-scale invasion of Demons and Netherfiends, and with final victories in both the Pacific and Atlantic Theaters, global conditions began to stabilize.
A new outline of the world emerged, sharply defined.
At the forefront stood the three great powers: Sinovera, Americonia, and the Anglo-French Union.
Some smaller nations, lacking any Law-Realm guardians and possessing only weak military strength, failed to withstand the first invasion of Demons and Netherfiends. Over a hundred surviving small countries began to gravitate toward the three great powers, migrating en masse and abandoning their original homelands.
Only the three great powers could serve as the backbone of humanity.
With Demons lurking and Netherfiends hidden, danger spread in all directions. Small countries with only two or three Law-Realm guardians dared not operate independently—they had to cling to the protection of the great powers.
After all, no one knew the real-time whereabouts of giant Demons or Netherfiends.
If struck by a surprise attack, they couldn’t hold out for long—rescue would never arrive in time.
Of course—
Even among the three great powers, there were differences in strength.
The Anglo-French Union, one of the great powers, suffered devastating losses.
Nearly a third of its territory was destroyed; the nation mourned as one. Some posted online: "The greatest regret of my life is not emigrating to Sinovera when I had the chance!"
Others lamented, "If only our Anglo-French Union had someone like Andrew Han, we’d never have feared losing our national gate."
"Everything abroad is wonderful; everything at home is terrible. You’re just idolizing Sinovera and worshipping foreigners!" Some in the Anglo-French Union protested angrily, unable to hold back their accusations.
This was just one snapshot of life inside the Anglo-French Union.
Even if a third of its territory lay in ruins, as long as Law-Realm guardians remained, it was still a great power.
......
Americonia, southern region.
A sprawling luxury villa stood atop a foundation of reinforced concrete, its surface covered with exquisite brickwork. Four blazing fire pillars supported the three-thousand-square-meter mansion.
Above were artificial hills, a small waterfall, and lush gardens.
"Cough, cough."
Georgia Allen coughed violently, his face pale.
In his battle with a terrifying Netherfiend, his consciousness was wounded. Even as the Fourth Legend, he couldn’t avoid the aftereffects of such an injury.
Every time he used his Gifted power, pain stabbed through him.
Yet Georgia Allen could only heal his consciousness by training his Gifted power.
"Damn it."
"Four fire pillars are my Gifted power’s limit now, and I still have to worry about instability. If I’m not careful, the whole house could burn down." The Fourth Legend, Georgia Allen, was in a foul mood.
In the past—
He could easily sustain six perfectly stable fire pillars, with no leakage at all.
Thunder flashed on the distant horizon. Arthur Rook, the Gifted Supreme, descended upon the villa, landing beside the waterfall. He frowned as he saw Georgia sprawled on the artificial hill, drinking to drown his sorrows.
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"Georgia."
"You’re the Fourth Legend. A consciousness injury lasts two or three years at most—it’s nothing to fuss over."
Arthur Rook was exasperated by Georgia’s attitude.
He had led the Atlantic Theater through a week of bloody conflict, and had come to see the gap between Gifted users and martial cultivators—Gifted powers were rigid, awkward. Martial artists were flexible, enduring, and tireless.
Gifted powers came too easily, in a single leap, far less durable than the slow accumulation of martial strength.
Mindset mattered more than ever.
"Sigh."
Georgia couldn’t care less about mindset. Lying atop the artificial hill, he glanced eastward, took a sullen drink, and muttered, "I’m not decadent—I’m just angry I’m not strong enough."
Arthur Rook understood immediately.
His confidence had been shaken. Arthur guessed right—Georgia had once planned to visit Sinovera in July to evaluate Andrew Han’s future potential.
It would have been a lofty, condescending assessment.
But with global turmoil, the trip never happened.
"Andrew Han is simply too strong now."
Georgia took another drink, his voice muffled.
The whole world watched as Andrew Han defended Sinovera’s eastern gate and Green Mountain Sect, unleashed Glory to Green Mountain Sect, slaughtered fourteen Netherfiends, battled the Black Dragon, then bowed in thanks to his distant master before turning and butchering the monstrous dragon.
What a feat!
What a miracle!
Even Georgia, a so-called Legend, paled before such miracles—he couldn’t hope to compete.
"But I refuse to believe it."
"Is there really no one else in the world who can match Andrew Han of Sinovera?" Georgia rose, stepping down beside the artificial hill. "Why should Sinovera monopolize such power?"
Arthur Rook looked at Georgia seriously. "Remember, don’t judge Sinovera by outdated standards. That nation has truly risen—you’re in no position to disparage it."
Georgia’s lips twisted; his expression was ugly.
But in the end, he didn’t argue—the facts spoke for themselves.
"Enough."
Arthur Rook patted Georgia’s shoulder. "Let me tell you something: Andrew Han inadvertently obtained a relic from the Atlantis Era—the Sun-Killing Mirror."
What?
Georgia stared in astonishment. "Really?"
Arthur Rook didn’t elaborate, only smiled mysteriously, as if everything was left unsaid.
"Hahaha!" Georgia instantly felt balanced again. "I knew it! How could Andrew Han have slaughtered ghosts with Inspiration alone? Sinovera must have forged the story, hyping up Andrew Han’s name to boost their prestige."
They chatted for a while longer.
Georgia was thoroughly cheered up; Arthur Rook departed in a relaxed mood.
"Hmph."
"Andrew Han of Sinovera—I’ve never lost to anyone, and I never will." Georgia Allen took a deep breath and began training his Gifted power.
Whoosh!
A fierce wind howled as the four fire pillars supporting the villa began to spin, honing his Gifted power.
Yet Georgia Allen didn’t notice—
Ten thousand meters away, Arthur Rook stood with hands clasped behind his back, high in the clouds, quietly watching the now-energized Georgia. He let out a long sigh. "Why did he have to choose Andrew Han as his rival?"
"Hasn’t he ever heard—"
"Those more gifted than you are often more diligent, too. How can you compete? If you don’t understand that, you’ll never grasp the meaning of a well-intentioned lie."
——