The Elysium Across Deep Space

Chapter 438: Waking up

Each divine treasure, the crystallization of a transcendent civilization's heart and soul, woven from the highest laws of the Dao of Immortals, vibrated in unison. Their patterns expanded, foretelling catastrophic consequences.

"This is the residual echo of the old mythic world's complete decay," a supreme being commented from behind the veil, observing the resonance of three divine treasures in the distance, making no move to seize them. At this crucial juncture, the Human World Sword, the Wandering Boat, and the Ascension Banner activated autonomously, deterring any from approaching. This moment, fraught with deadly force, was not one to capture treasures.

Currently, the treasures sliced through the heavens, bobbing in the currents of history, resonating with the supreme laws of this era, affecting all transcendents.

They seemed to wail in sorrow, witnessing destruction and repeating history, marking the end of this civilization.

"Our era is ending, the twilight of the immortals approaches, and though it's unbearable, we are powerless to stop it," spoke Ling Luan Immortal, one of the few female immortals of the Curtain Sky realm in the clouds, her forehead marked with a red mole depicting various grandiose scenes of ancient and modern valor.

Those scenes encapsulated the Immortal Realm's era of prosperity and turmoil, from its zenith, where all immortals swore grand oaths, to the withering of talents and the downfall of ancient empires, all culminating in an end, turning even the Immortal Realm into a mere memory.

"It's like a grand dream about to wake, where everything ceases to exist," someone murmured softly. Each vibration of the divine treasures served as a reminder that the fabric of the Immortal Realm was fraying.

Everyone could feel the Immortal Realm dimming, weakening infinitely. The cosmic correction was underway, and this semi-material, semi-energetic plane couldn't hold much longer.

"No one has truly become immortal. What fled here were but fragmented spirits, deluding themselves in this illusory veil, believing this to be the Immortal Realm, that we had ascended. But what's the reality? Merely shackled souls dancing, comforting themselves with grand illusions. In truth, at the moment of supposed ascension, we perished, our true bodies destroyed by thunder, our bones carrying a trace of life buried in the mortal world. You and I in this veil, neither human nor ghost, where is the true immortality? We're but remnants of souls from our trials, wandering in dreams for years."

And so, some, in their frenzied introspection, looked back on thousands of years turned to dust. The fleeting glamour of the Immortal Realm, just a passing dream, it's time to awaken.

"Listening to the dirge of this mythological civilization is also listening to our own. The Immortal Realm is dimming," a supreme being wandered the lands of the Immortal Realm, as if memorizing its final vistas. The veil was decaying, the transcendental flame on the verge of extinguishment. What remained were memories of power once held, signaling their own demise.

In the current world, the situation was equally grave. Super-materials had vanished, and the rules were collapsing. The remnants of the Immortal Realm's influence were all that could be drawn upon.

As the divine treasures trembled, they seemed to lament, revealing grave issues with the Immortal Realm's highest laws.

In An City, Zhou Qinghuang lamented, "It's brutal. We're being suppressed again, feeling the malice in the cosmos. There's no room to maneuver. Once the cosmos corrects itself, the mythological world becomes a bloody spectacle."

"You're mistaken," Gu Mingxi corrected. "This isn't merely bloodshed; it's the decay of a transcendental civilization, awaiting the final flame to erase its existence."

Such was the sentiment even among renowned immortals like them, let alone others, all targeted and oppressed.

"What do we do now? Do we actually consider Zhou Shiqi's invitation to form a group, making a living on the battlefield stage?" Gu Mingxi frowned at the thought.

Anxious about the future, she knew that without substantial transcendental power for protection, social status and wealth would be crucial armors. Otherwise, famous immortals like her could become prey.

Zhou Qinghuang adjusted her glasses, suggesting, "The more you're in the spotlight, the more you attract greedy gazes. Accumulating danger... If it comes to it, just marry some young talent. I'm not particularly fond of men anyway."

In the current world, the shockwave was unprecedented, shaking even the lower echelons of cultivators. Those at the pinnacle felt the unbearable weight of the cosmos bearing down.

Yet, many were not afraid, accustomed and numbed to the chaos. What more could happen? In a few months, their cultivation would dissipate with the wind, and they cared little for any additional tremors now.

Many transcendents were leveraging their remaining spiritual powers to learn modern knowledge, from arts to battleships, from humanities to scientific research, encompassing all aspects.

Many had already secured angel investments, leveraging what they could control to start businesses. Immortal Realm herbs were imported en masse for cultivation, with existing technology employed to decipher various pill formulas, attempting to substitute ordinary herbs for the original spiritual medicines.

……

Wang Xuan harbored suspicions of hallucinations as he departed, faintly hearing desolate howls emanating from the depths of the meteorite passageway, chilling and mournful. Even with a quick glimpse through his spiritual eye, he thought he saw a ghastly pale face. "An illusion? Or the real source... is there a monster attracted by the scent of flowers soaring to the heavens, something coming this way?" he pondered wildly. "Or has the demon flower nurtured something, or is it due to my mental mutation, with a split entity waiting to be subdued?"

"Regardless, when I march towards the twelfth realm, I'll annihilate them all, merging everything into one, only I am the true essence!" Wang Xuan resolved as he left the meteorite channel, pausing beside the Pool of Life, where he contemplated, drank tea, and relaxed his spirit for a brief respite.

The First Immortal Tea Tree thrived, bearing various tea fruits – golden, silver-shining, purple-misted – each a stunning sight, enveloped in a holy mist. With leaves dripping with fragrant dew, his incarnation Yan Yanyun personally picked tea leaves, gathering dew, while another incarnation, Fang Yuzhu, used the lid of the Life Nourishing Furnace as a teapot to brew tea.

As for his incarnation Zhang Daoling, Wang Xuan tasked him with transcribing scriptures, silently contemplating the Dao. Incarnation Mingxue Jiaozu sparred fiercely with the incarnation of the Demon Ancestor, inciting Wang Xuan's interest with their vigorous battle.

This leisure was but temporary. The brief peace was swiftly disturbed as incarnation Yan Yanyun rebelled, abandoning the tea fruits. What seemed like a gentle brush against his shoulder was actually the gathering force of a pristine fist, abruptly unleashed in a fierce attack against him.

In fact, all these incarnations were him, each imbued with pride, none considering themselves secondary, all vying for supremacy, seizing moments to challenge him, aspiring to replace him and venture into the present world.

Fortunately, their confidence momentarily spared Wang Xuan from a collective assault. Otherwise, he would have had no choice but to resort to wielding the lid of the Life Nourishing Furnace to suppress them. The presence of the peculiar page's patterns within them lent formidable strength, traces of the Curtain Heaven Mirror's essence subtly influencing their capabilities.

Eventually, overwhelmed, Wang Xuan, carrying a plethora of tea fruits, fled. At this stage, he truly couldn't subdue so many incarnations. With no clear path to advancing into the twelfth realm, he chose to escape.

Upon his return, he was greeted by Chen Yongjie's young, resentful gaze fixed upon him. "I stood by your side, even harboring the Creation True Crystal, absorbing substances close to reality, yet I was still shaken down by you!" Chen lamented. From near the ninth realm, he was demoted to the early stages of the eighth, which, all things considered, wasn't too outrageous. Wang Xuan realized the celestial ceiling must have struck particularly hard this time.

Indeed, the shake was excessive. Deep in the cosmos aboard the ancient spaceship, Fang Yuzhu, Yan Yanyun, Zhang Daoling, and Mingxue Jiaozu all suffered greatly from the shock, dropping realms despite their best efforts to the third layer of the Transcendental realm, failing to guard against it. "To think our defenses were breached, climbing back up seems daunting," Zhang remarked in disbelief, casting aside the cracked mirror that clung to his face.

Following this trend, even if their primary selves returned from beyond the veil to merge and unify, preserving even the initial stages of the Transcendental realm by the time the superhuman flame extinguished seemed a tall order. "Our earlier optimism was misplaced. Forget ascending to the earth immortal realm; maintaining the early Transcendental stages by the end now appears a challenging feat. Let's hope we don't regress significantly," lamented Mingxue Jiaozu in pessimism.

"We've just returned, only to be demoted. What exactly transpired in that final moment before our spiritual essences departed?" Yan Yanyun pondered, unable to recall.

In Fang Yuzhu's view, Wang Xuan, through deep spiritual meditation, conjured their existences, making all of them his incarnations. Together, they delved into the Spiritual Insanity Technique, contributing to its resolution. In essence, this whole ordeal was a unique creation by Wang Xuan himself, a manifestation of his alternative method crafting.

Now that they have returned, all traces of their involvement have vanished, with no memories of their participation remaining.

However, they understood that their departure of spiritual essence was linked to Wang Xuan, especially since Qingmu provided tangible evidence. Wang Xuan was on the verge of assembling half a skirt, which even unsettled Yan Yanyun.

"This subsequent shockwave, could it be related to Wang Xuan?" Zhang Daoling speculated. Yet, he ultimately dismissed the idea, stating, "Unlikely. It's primarily due to the tremors of several treasures, constantly affecting the supreme rules of the Immortal Realm."

……

"Waking from the dream, the mental turmoil has been resolved." Upon Wang Xuan's return, his reunification with his physical form was instantaneous, triggering a profound metamorphosis throughout his body. His flesh and blood began to undergo a qualitative transformation, with vital substances coursing through him, remolding his physique from head to toe.

Chen Yongjie and Qingmu were taken aback by the intensity of this metabolic acceleration, far more fierce than anything Wang Xuan had experienced before.

Advancing from the tenth to the eleventh realm, Wang Xuan underwent three intense moltings, leaving behind blood and various viscous substances – the byproducts of his extreme metabolic process.

This transformation was a rebirth, elevating him to the forefront of known realms. He experienced a newfound vitality and a surge in both strength and combat prowess that far surpassed his previous limits.

"This realm shall be known as the Frontier." He mused to himself. Standing at the theoretical pinnacle, he felt entitled to name it. To move forward, he would have to traverse this frontier in search of new worlds.

Wang Xuan sensed an emerging opportunity. Equipped with the Elixir Furnace, he felt prepared to journey through the mortal realm, ready to confront any challenges, even if that meant facing the fearsome dragon once more.

What was once beyond his reach now seemed attainable. Wang Xuan harbored ambitions of venturing into the depths of space.