Sean Zell stepped onto the Ascension Array, inserting the golden Ascension Token into the slot beside the array. Joe Di immediately saw the Ascension Array begin to rotate, golden beams of light enveloping Sean Zell. A profound spatial law fluctuation rippled out—Joe Di tried to sense this spatial law, but as soon as his spiritual sense touched it, his sea of consciousness threatened to split apart.
Joe Di quickly withdrew his spiritual sense. When he looked again at the hexagonal teleportation platform, the golden light had already faded, and Sean Zell had vanished without a trace.
Joe Di let out a sigh of relief. Sean Zell should have already been teleported away.
Seeing that the Ascension Token in the slot had disappeared, Joe Di also landed on the hexagonal teleportation platform and placed his own teleportation token into the slot.
Once again, golden light swept over him. Joe Di wanted to extend his spiritual sense to check the situation, but the next moment, he was struck by an overwhelming dizziness. Under such intense vertigo, his consciousness couldn’t linger for even a moment.
……
"Bang!" A tremendous force slammed into Joe Di, flinging him a dozen meters away before he finally came to a stop.
Fortunately, Joe Di’s physical body was tough, and he only suffered some superficial injuries.
Joe Di hurriedly got up, certain that Sean Zell wasn’t here. It seemed that the Ascension Array teleported people randomly, not to a fixed location.
When Joe Di saw everything before him clearly, he was momentarily stunned.
Is this the Immortal Realm?
Joe Di rubbed his eyes and extended his spiritual sense for a long time, but in the end, he still doubted whether this was truly the Immortal Realm.
The spiritual energy here seemed to be of a higher grade than that of the True Domain, but in terms of cultivation effect, it was probably inferior. The energy was scattered, making it unsuitable for cultivation. Over time, it even instilled a sense of irritation and unease.
All around was desolation; apart from a few nameless weeds, the space seemed to be filled with a bleak and murderous aura—or perhaps, the feeling of dusk and decline.
Joe Di’s spiritual sense was more compressed here than in the True Domain, but he could still scan a thousand-li radius. Yet within that range, all he saw were scattered white bones and patches of blood-soaked, dark earth.
A foul, bloody stench drifted on the wind, and Joe Di was certain that the dark soil was soaked in blood.
Within a thousand-li radius, there was only ruin, decay, and bleakness—no sign of a single person, and not a trace of life.
Is this really the Immortal Realm? Joe Di asked himself again. If the Immortal Realm was truly like this, few would want to come here. Rather than the Immortal Realm, it felt more like hell.
Joe Di took a few steps and casually picked up a bone. When his spiritual sense landed on the bone, and he saw its patterns and color clearly, his heart sank.
The aura of this bone was clearly far stronger than that of a True Domain cultivator, and it had a faint golden hue. It was definitely not the bone of an ordinary cultivator. If it wasn’t, then it could only be the remains of an Immortal Realm powerhouse.
This really was the Immortal Realm.
Joe Di drew in a sharp breath. He hadn’t expected the Immortal Realm that everyone longed for to look like this.
At this moment, Joe Di kept his spiritual sense alert within a thousand-li radius, then picked a direction and sped away. No matter what, he had to find someone to ask about the situation.
A whole month passed; Joe Di didn’t know how far he’d traveled, but his spiritual sense still revealed nothing but ruin and decay. Dried blood, shattered treasures, bleached bones—there wasn’t another soul to be found.
It was as if he were the only person in the entire world.
Ruined treasures, howling winds! Desert dust and twilight sun. Debris everywhere, and not a soul in sight for a thousand li.
Even after years of secluded cultivation, Joe Di had never felt emptiness or loneliness. But now, as he gazed up at the vast, boundless starry sky and the faint red remnants of the setting sun, a profound sense of emptiness and solitude welled up within him.
When the entire sky was left with only him, this loneliness became utterly inescapable—a will born from the very laws of heaven and earth.
Another two months passed, and Joe Di was still hurrying along, desperate to find a living person. After three months, all he had seen were bones and wasteland—still not a single living soul.
A year later, Joe Di stood at the edge of a dried-up sea, no longer moving forward.
By the sea lay a toppled, massive stone tablet. On it were three characters: Imperial Sea.
The seabed was just like what he’d seen along the way—wreckage everywhere, abandoned treasures, and even the corpses of immortals beginning to rot. Not even a single corpse-eating crow could be found here.
Whether this was the Immortal Realm or not, it was a hell Joe Di could hardly accept. He’d seen this scene more than once; over the past year, he’d witnessed too many ruined immortal cities. They all shared one feature: utter silence and bones everywhere.
These bones weren’t devoured by beasts, nor were they the result of natural disasters—they were killed in mutual slaughter.
Staring at the dried seabed for a long time, Joe Di slowly turned around, his steps heavy. For the first time, he had lost his sense of direction.
What he lost was not only his sense of direction in space, but also his direction in cultivation.
It was clear these fallen immortals had died in chaotic battles. Joe Di wondered: why do people live?
Is it to pursue immortality after surviving? To seize cultivation resources madly once the path is found? Or, after reaching a higher level, to kill everyone around you?
If the world was left with only one person, what meaning would their existence hold?
Standing there, Joe Di’s thoughts spun out of his control. Countless questions surfaced—some with answers, some without.
Time rushed by; years passed like a shuttle weaving through silk.
A day, a month, a year...
This world was so bitter, so desolate, so lonely.
Joe Di’s cultivation of immortality was not wrong; he pursued longevity and strength. But he was not cultivating to become a solitary immortal, nor did he seek power to turn the world into a wasteland of corpses.
This chapter is not yet finished~.~ Please click to the next page to continue reading the exciting story!
There were too many selfish people in this world, too many who relied on their strength to act as they pleased. Because of their selfish desires, this place was filled with bloodshed and desolation, devoid of human life...
Does being strong mean you can do whatever you want? Does strength mean you can act without restraint or consequence?
He had seen many places—even in Mingzhu City, where the strong ruled, there was an order to rely on. What he liked most was Earth, where order was clear. There might be conflict and injustice, but those were only in corners; no one dared to act recklessly regardless of circumstances. That was the order he needed.
He needed a place where he could be free, yet without bloodshed or brutality. True freedom requires rules and restraint—these are not contradictory, nor are they in conflict.
Heaven and earth, the universe itself, have their own rules; all things have their own laws. Why, when it comes to people, do they refuse to accept such restraint?
This was not the world Joe Di wanted!
Nor was this the purpose of his cultivation!
If there was no place around him with rules, if the whole world was filled with slaughter and bloodshed, then let Joe Di set the rules for this world—let him restrain the killing and violence.
If he wanted a world without slaughter and bloodshed, if he wanted to set the rules for this world...
How should he do it?
After a year of deep thought, Joe Di lifted his head, his eyes filled with resolve. To achieve this, he would have to begin with slaughter.
He would start with a kind of slaughter governed by rules...
No matter if others killed to set rules for themselves, Joe Di’s slaughter was to establish rules needed by the entire Immortal Realm.
Faint Dao patterns rippled around Joe Di, layer upon layer like invisible cocoons, stretching outward from his body.
After standing for a year, having decided to set rules for the entire Immortal Realm, Joe Di made no further movement. Only those Dao patterns, barely perceptible even to spiritual sense, continued to expand and perfect themselves...
Ten years, fifty years, a hundred years...
A hundred years flashed by in an instant. In this dried-up sea, aside from the bones piled on the seabed, there still stood that unmoving figure at the shore.
The surroundings remained deathly silent. That unmoving figure was covered in dust, like a statue—or perhaps just a skeleton left standing.
Within a thousand-zhang radius around the statue, Dao intent ripples formed a space unreachable even by spiritual sense. These ripples contained not just foundational laws, but also starlight energy—like the rivers and stars in the Starstream Technique’s starry meridians, except this starlit Dao rhyme was purely condensed from Dao intent.
(The second update may be a bit late.)