Silence enveloped everything. Darkness reigned, devoid of light. Fragments of strange colors drifted through the void, occasionally swept up by violent currents born of distant explosions. Fleeting glimmers of light would appear, only to vanish again, restoring this world to its endless, tranquil blackness.
I sat quietly atop a massive black stone floating in midair, gazing silently at everything before me.
“This time, you’ve lost, Ethan Zhang. One day, you won’t be able to bear it any longer.”
I smiled faintly. A stream of black, flame-like energy spilled from my shoulder. I shook my head, my brow furrowing slightly.
“No matter how many times it takes, I’ll keep fighting you, Wraithlord. This is our war—just the two of us. In this shattered, illusory place, maybe it’s a battle without end. But I have plenty of time, and so do you, don’t you?”
My tone was slightly mocking. The flaming head on my shoulder let out a sinister laugh, shaking violently. My body, overtaken, forced me to stand. Suddenly, my left arm clenched into a fist and struck hard to the left.
With a thunderous crash, the floating stones to my left shattered instantly into black dust, scattering away. I shook my head.
“No matter how you struggle, it’s useless. My will, combined with Infernal Hell’s, leaves you no chance to defeat us.”
As I spoke, a faceless visage appeared on my right shoulder, etched with blood-red marks, its eyes like stars in the night sky—smiling coldly.
“Not planning to cooperate, Infernal Hell? Let’s erase Ethan Zhang’s consciousness together, then we can negotiate at our leisure.”
Infernal Hell shook its head.
“The last time we cooperated, you broke your promise, Wraithlord. Eliminating you is the only correct move. No matter what you say, it’s useless. We are one being split into two selves, but you are the anomaly. All we need to do is consume your consciousness, no matter how long it takes.”
I smiled coldly and nodded. At that moment, the Wraithlord burst out laughing.
“It’s impossible to consume me. I’ll find a breakthrough, and when I do, both of you will vanish forever.”
I moved slowly. In this heavy, chaotic, shattered void, where countless unknown forces swirled, it was the perfect battlefield. I kept drifting toward the edge—so long as my body wasn’t under the Wraithlord’s control, I would keep moving away from the darkness. If I could put enough distance, even if my consciousness was eventually consumed, it would prevent them from returning to that world for a time.
“It’s useless, Ethan Zhang. I’ve spent far more years in the void than you.”
“Useful or not, your failure has been accumulating, hasn’t it? If you hadn’t broken your promise back then, that world would already be ours. But you changed your mind, so I had to return consciousness to Ethan Zhang.”
I smiled coldly. The Wraithlord immediately roared in fury. I could feel my consciousness blurring beneath his rage. Eyes wide, I fought to hold on.
“Hmph. If not for that instinct, no one in that world could have opposed me.”
Infernal Hell sneered coldly.
“Even without that instinct, do you really think you could win?”
“Why couldn’t I? I’ve escaped the Hell Imprint. When the time comes, Ethan Zhang will vanish, and if he disappears, you won’t be able to return to the Living World.”
Listening to their endless argument, I felt a surge of irritation, as if my head might split open. The consciousness of the Wraithlord and Infernal Hell tore at my mind, but none of it mattered to me anymore.
I knew I’d succeeded—trapping both of them in the world called Ethan Zhang. That was enough. The instinctual world within me was now fully connected, under my control.
The Wraithlord could never regain control of the world. I could feel the world’s consciousness rejecting him, slowly recovering its strength.
“How about this, Ethan Zhang? Let’s make a pact. We return to the darkness, settle everything there, and then decide our next move.”
My body was overtaken again. I stopped atop a slowly drifting stone, shaking my head.
“The plan prepared by my three children is not something the current powers of the Living World can handle!”
I shook my head.
“I’ve entrusted everything to Roxie. She can handle it. I will never let you touch that world again, Wraithlord.”
“It won’t be long, Ethan Zhang, before you break. This endless darkness—no time, no space, nothing at all—will eventually wear down your will. When that happens, I’ll devour your spirit and return to that world.”
I ignored the Wraithlord. Suddenly, my mind cleared. I thought of Roxie. Only when I remembered her could I instantly regain my senses. I couldn’t let Wraithlord or Infernal Hell erode my will. Both wanted to consume my consciousness, but my mind was a wall separating theirs—they couldn’t connect without passing through me.
The Wraithlord’s consciousness kept attacking mine, but now Infernal Hell’s will was on my side. I feared that if the two ever joined forces again, my mind would surely collapse.
“Don’t worry, Ethan Zhang. This time, I will never cooperate with the Wraithlord!”
Infernal Hell instantly sensed my thoughts, its voice echoing in my mind.
“Only by destroying him can I return to Infernal Hell and continue my plan. We simply need to attack when the Wraithlord’s consciousness weakens. Once we devour his mind, it will be your turn.”
I smiled and shook my head. My body was free again; I floated deeper into the shattered void, away from the darkness.
I was farther from the darkness now. Its call, once clear, had faded to almost nothing.
I didn’t know where this darkness led, but maybe I could find the trail left by the gods. That was the place I hoped to reach in this shattered void.
Mother Goddess Nuwa once told me about that place. After the gods sealed the Wraithlord, Nuwa remained behind. She said it was a realm where heaven and earth merged—a place the gods used to leave this world.
If I didn’t want Wraithlord and Infernal Hell to know my intentions, they never could. I still held control of my body, thanks to the world’s instinct. After careful thought, I realized the only way to rid the world of its two greatest threats—Wraithlord and my other half, Infernal Hell—was to follow the gods’ path out.
The Dark Banquet, the Emperor Gods, and the Immortality Society all remained as threats to the world. But I’d left behind the instinct of coexistence and Lan Yin’s power of subversion. These, together with Roxie’s power of renewal, could solve everything.
I no longer worried about Roxie. I knew she was strong—no matter what she faced, she would overcome it. The Living World was now unified. The Ghost Sovereigns would slowly awaken. I had borne all the pain they’d suffered for centuries, absorbing every wound sealed in time.
Except for Basil Bertram, whom I still worried about, the other Ghost Sovereigns should awaken soon. If they did, even if the Emperor Gods began their next phase, there’d be nothing to fear.
For Basil Bertram, I’d left behind two weapons forged from the Heaven-Mending Stone: Starwatcher and Starwarden. These weapons could absorb most energies—perhaps they’d help him, even if only a little. From the split trunk, I sensed a faint, distant presence.
“What are you thinking, Ethan Zhang? Your thoughts are a mess—I can feel it. Why not say them out loud?”
The Wraithlord spoke. I shook my head, ignoring him. He continued.
“Don’t you miss that world, even a little?”
I shook my head.
“Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. If you’d just leave, maybe things would be different. But now, nothing you say means anything, Wraithlord. I’ll take you away myself.”
Immediately, the Wraithlord’s emotions surged violently.
“You want to find the gods’ path out?”
I nodded, slowing down. I landed on another stone.
“Don’t even think about it, Ethan Zhang.”
The Wraithlord’s consciousness raged. My body was completely immobilized, but Infernal Hell began to help. Gradually, I regained partial control, my left hand rising, releasing power into the void.
“No matter what you do, Wraithlord, as long as the gods’ path exists in this shattered void, I’ll find it—no matter how long it takes.”
I spoke with resolve, but Infernal Hell fell silent, clearly disapproving of my decision.