My mind was in utter chaos. Everything the Lost Mediator said to me made my newly rekindled emotions swirl into a tangled mess.
I had no idea whether what he said, or even what I was seeing, was dream or reality. Had I truly traveled to the future? Here, I could not sense the slightest trace of Deathbane Aura, and the Lost Mediator before me felt more like an immense convergence of power than a real person.
The Lost Mediator smiled, the strange black greatsword resting nearby. As I looked at it, a familiar sensation welled up from deep within me—a feeling I couldn't quite put into words.
"This thing?"
Smiling, the Lost Mediator picked up the sword and held it out to me. As he brought it closer, I felt even more strongly that this greatsword was somehow a part of my own body—an utterly astonishing sensation.
"Try holding it."
As he spoke, the Lost Mediator tossed the greatsword to me. I caught it in my hands—it was incredibly heavy. But with a mere thought, the sword became light as a feather. My Deathbane Aura slowly seeped into the blade, or rather, was being absorbed by it—painstakingly slow.
"Specterblade."
The Lost Mediator spoke the sword’s name. I set it down, and in an instant, its structure was imprinted in my mind. I immediately understood how to wield it.
With a creak, I willed the sword to split. Sure enough, it parted, revealing a pitch-black gun barrel at its center. Deathbane Aura transformed into particles, drifting around it. In a swift motion, I raised the greatsword to my right—the separated part bent backward, spreading out like wings.
The Zhang Qingyuan before me made me doubt—he had no multiple ghost souls. I should have eight, counting the Thought Ghost, but the Lost Mediator didn't have even one. Stranger still, he possessed a physical body; that was what startled me most.
Suddenly, the Lost Mediator stepped up, grabbed my hand, and pressed it to his chest. I could hear the steady thumping of his heart, and I stared at him in shock.
"If you go by the distinction between human and ghost, then I am neither. But Zhang Qingyuan has always been human, hasn't he?"
I looked at the Lost Mediator in confusion. My own corpse had already been destroyed in the Nether Hell, used as a conduit for some great power.
"The body is just a form. When power reaches a certain level, the body can be rebuilt. That's what Deathbane Aura is—something with substance. You already know this, don't you?"
I asked.
"What about Red Hair and the others?"
Even though the Great Howling Hell was completely sealed, there's always a flaw somewhere. If I find even the slightest gap, I'll find a way to reach my instinctive space and contact Uncle Zhuang. Even Hollowbelly would help us—he's taken so much money from Red Hair, he wouldn't just stand by.
Hollowbelly controls several passages to the Living World. Judging by King Biancheng's expression, sealing a Great Hell takes a lot of time and preparation. If we can escape the Great Howling Hell, we'll find a way to reach the Living World.
"Power that's too great always brings disaster. That was decided from the very beginning. Haven't you figured it out yet—the true nature of Red Hair's power?"
I shook my head, not understanding what the Lost Mediator meant. He gave a bitter smile, shook his head, and stood up.
A breeze swept by, sending black sand swirling through the air.
"How many years has it been?"
Looking at the Lost Mediator, I saw the weariness etched on his face. It was as if he'd completely forgotten the meaning of time.
"I don't remember."
"Then what about the third thing?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a look of confusion came over the Lost Mediator's face—an expression of profound sorrow.
"Zhang Qingyuan would never ignore Lan Ruoxi, right?"
I nodded. The Lost Mediator stood and pointed into the distance.
"Come with me."
With a rush of wind, I followed the Lost Mediator, flying swiftly through the air.
Soon we left behind the city he'd destroyed with a single blow. As we soared above the black desert swallowing the city, familiar places came into view. What shocked me most was Jiulong Square—I saw the dragon statues protruding from the sands.
Familiar buildings appeared before my eyes. I saw University Town, not yet swallowed by the black sand sea.
"We're here."
I swallowed hard. The apartment building still stood amid the sand sea, unchanged except for the cherry trees, now petrified and black. The Lost Mediator floated into the small pavilion and sat down. Cups were scattered on the table, placed carelessly.
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"Do you remember? This used to be a place full of joy for Zhang Qingyuan."
I landed beside the stone table. The Lost Mediator gazed around with a look of deep nostalgia.
"Is the future like this because of the Wraithlord?"
The Lost Mediator shook his head.
"If you trace it back, it's because of you."
He pointed a finger at me. I didn't say anything, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this person wasn't Zhang Qingyuan.
"You're not Zhang Qingyuan."
I muttered. The Lost Mediator burst out laughing, then nodded repeatedly.
"From the beginning, you made the wrong choice. One mistake led to another. Maybe you can't understand what I'm saying."
I gasped. The Lost Mediator pointed at the apartment building.
"Let me tell you one last thing—never give the Blood Jade to anyone, not even the Earthly Soul."
I stared at the Lost Mediator in surprise. His expression grew serious—Earthly Soul Zhang Qingyuan had already taken the Blood Jade.
"The Wraithlord's Seven Souls?"
My eyes widened at the Lost Mediator. The thought came instantly—long ago, the Blood Jade had told me to find the other six fragments. Only then could I understand.
"Juchen Realm..."
With a hum, the Lost Mediator raised a hand. Black and white light intertwined in his palm, and in that instant, I felt the power of the Juchen Realm—the power of time itself.
"You can control time?"
The Lost Mediator said nothing. The black and white light wrapped around me, and I felt myself turning into pure radiance—about to vanish.
"I've said everything I needed to say. What Zhang Qingyuan does is up to you. If you still want to get involved, then this worst future will come to pass, sooner or later."
As my form blurred, I felt the emotions I'd fought so hard to reclaim growing cold again. I raised a fist.
"Don't joke with me."
I roared. The Lost Mediator stopped, and my body rippled like water.
"A joke?"
The Lost Mediator approached, grabbed my chest, and I slapped his hand away with a loud smack.
"The worst future? Is that why you want me to watch the people I love die, my friends suffer, even kill my own friends? You're not Zhang Qingyuan, and this isn't my future."
The Lost Mediator still wore a bitter smile. I stared at him, shocked, as tears slid from his eyes—black tears, rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto the ground.
"Maybe so. When did it start? Hating my past self, being utterly disappointed in myself, always thinking—ah, if only I hadn't done that, maybe everything would be different. Lately, after seeing you, I keep wondering: are you Zhang Qingyuan, or am I? Or maybe neither of us is. Maybe Zhang Qingyuan died long ago."
I shook my head and looked at the Lost Mediator seriously.
"I am Zhang Qingyuan, and I will keep moving forward. I won't turn a blind eye. After all this time, I've finally found a chance—a chance to bring Ruoxi back."
The Lost Mediator nodded. My body started moving again; everything around me blurred, except for his sorrowful eyes.
"You can do it. As for the future, it's already happening. No one can stop it."
In the final instant, what I saw was a pair of cold, merciless eyes—like a stone sunk to the bottom of the sea.