A towering snow mountain pierced the clouds, snowflakes swirling in the air. We had arrived—the place Entity 013 mentioned, where the one who might know the location of the Four Sacred Realm lived.
For five days, we barely spoke. We traveled at sunrise and rested at sunset. It was clear these two were interested in me, each scheming in their own way.
"Is it the one up there you're talking about?"
Entity 016 asked, but Entity 013 ignored him and slowly began to float upward.
Entity 013 stepped forward and stated our intent. Entity 004 stroked his beard, nodded, and looked at me.
When the sun set, they left, and when it rose, they returned. I asked them about it, but neither would tell me.
Entity 004's explanation made this world clearer—evil ghosts devouring dreams and hope, turning them into dead faith.
As we climbed higher, I began to sense something different. The temperature rose, and the light above the clouds grew brighter. It felt strange.
Suddenly, a dazzling golden light stabbed at my eyes. I raised my hand to shield them, then stared wide-eyed—the sight before me was utterly shocking.
Colorful clouds drifted by, a golden, shimmering gate appeared, and a blue plaque above it was inscribed with the words 'Celestial Palace.' Floating islands glowed in every hue, while white cranes soared through the clouds.
In the end, the Four Symbols' power grew strong enough to affect everything in the Living World. But after the Underworld was founded, nothing—good or evil—could defy the Heavenly Dao. To avoid punishment, the Saints decided to leave the Living World.
The temperature here was perfectly comfortable—neither cold nor hot. The breeze was cool and fresh. I glanced at the bluestone slabs beneath my feet; flowers and grass grew in the cracks, with insects crawling about. Everything here was incredible.
No one noticed how disruptive they were—like needles stuck in the heart of this world. Because of the Saints' influence, more and more Forsaken appeared.
"The guy inside is seriously bad news."
Entity 016 muttered darkly, his expression grave.
"He calls himself an immortal and doesn't eat Forsaken. Relax—your life is in my hands. If you're worried, you should be worried about me instead."
Entity 013 spoke while Entity 016 curled his lip in disdain. We stepped onto the golden clouds—soft and springy beneath our feet, surprisingly solid yet elastic.
Just as we neared the palace gates, a dragon and a phoenix burst from the clouds on either side. Light blazed everywhere, but I wasn't fooled by the spectacle—their bodies radiated the power of the Forsaken.
But on the old man's left cheek was the number 004.
I glanced at the old man beside me. I couldn't sense any strength from him—only the same power as the two Forsaken by my side. Entity 016 unconsciously stepped back, sweat beading on his forehead.
"I've never seen anyone this strong."
Entity 016 muttered, fear written on his face. Entity 013 walked forward.
"We've come hoping you'll tell us where the Four Sacred Realm is."
Entity 013 stepped forward and stated our intent. Entity 004 stroked his beard, nodded slightly, and looked at me.
"I see. You want to enter enemy territory. But you, young man—you don't look like you're from here. You must've come from the Living World, right?"
I nodded and immediately asked,
"May I ask, what do you mean by 'enemy'?"
"Come in."
Entity 004 waved his hand, and our bodies gently floated, drifting into the palace. At its far end stood a massive White Jade Statue—Entity 004's own likeness. On either side, rows of finely crafted rosewood chairs awaited us, and we each took a seat.
"The enemies of this world are those called the Saints. They were never meant to exist here."
I looked at Entity 004 in confusion. He seemed to understand this place far better than Entity 013 and Entity 016, who both stared at him, equally puzzled.
Entity 004 paced back and forth, then began to explain.
Faith is complicated, formed from countless factors. At its core, it's the belief in something—a person, an idea, or a principle. When belief becomes absolute, it turns into faith: pure conviction and awe.
Most people's beliefs start in childhood—a fierce desire to accomplish something, to realize a dream. As children, these dreams seem impossible, fantastical, incomprehensible to others. Over time, those dreams grow heavier.
Many dreamers, when grown, take their first step toward those dreams—only to fail. Most choose to abandon everything, to forget and betray their dreams before faith can even form. The main reason is that dreams are too heavy to carry; in the end, people surrender to reality.
If these intense emotions can't be forgotten, they can crush a person, stabbing at the heart. This world exists to bear all that—the place where faith dies. Here, unwanted feelings can't harm or oppress people anymore, letting them survive.
But among humans, a few succeed—they realize their deepest desires and make their faith their life's work. Such people are rare; religious faith works similarly.
Those with faith keep it within themselves—it never leaves their bodies. Most importantly, when a believer dies, if their faith finds no one to hold it, it fades away. Even if inherited, it slowly disappears over time, since each person's faith is unique.
"Simply put, just as good people don't become evil ghosts after death, we Forsaken are the evil ghosts born from the living people's hearts. You can think of it that way."
"Is that so!"
Entity 004's explanation made this world clearer: evil ghosts that devour dreams and hope, turning into dead faith.
"So what exactly are the Saints?"
Entity 004 smiled, came up to me, and pointed to the air. We all looked up—above us appeared the Four Symbols.
"They were born in ancient times—at first, mere tribal totems. Gradually, they became tribal gods, passed down through generations until they became faith itself. That's how the Saints came to be. As more people believed, more Saints appeared, and their power grew."
As Entity 004 spoke, the Four Symbols above grew larger, made of sparkling lights: the white White Tiger, the azure Azure Dragon, the brown Black Tortoise, and the red Vermilion Bird.
When these vast beliefs took shape, they became myth, religion. The Saints gained self-awareness and power—just as people imagined, able to ward off evil and subdue demons.
Among clans and sects, faith was strongest. Passed down through generations, it kept the Saints alive. This faith created a channel—those who believed in the Four Symbols could use their power.
But the balance was broken. Many Saints persisted even after death, refusing to fade away. It all began with the Underworld Denizens—they held absolute faith in the Four Symbols, constantly expanding the channel, letting the Four Symbols' power serve them, while their faith kept the Four Symbols alive.
In the end, the Four Symbols' power grew strong enough to affect everything in the Living World. But in just a few years after the Underworld was founded, nothing—good or evil—could defy the Heavenly Dao. To avoid punishment, the Saints decided to leave the Living World.
The Four Symbols eventually found this desolate land where faith had died. Though opposed to it, their roots were the same. The Saints began to thrive and settle here.
No one noticed how disruptive they were to this world—like needles stuck in its heart. Because of the Saints' influence, more and more Forsaken appeared.
"What do you mean?"
Hearing this, I stood up and looked at Entity 004. He nodded.
"Just as it sounds—dead faith was once just a form of human negativity, with no consciousness, just lifeless remains. But because of the Saints, those abandoned beliefs grew angry and sorrowful, asking why they weren't held onto, why they were forsaken. Seeing faith become Saints, Forsaken began to appear."
"Heh, what nonsense."
At that moment, Entity 016 stood up, glaring coldly at Entity 004.
"You new-generation Forsaken will never understand. Someone like you is just a grain of sand."