The world around him, once a lifeless shade of dark gray, had now descended into a pitch-black void where even the faintest glimmer of light could no longer exist. The air itself was thick, suffocating, and saturated with Abyssal Dust so dense and oppressive that even Yun Che—whose command over it had long since reached the peak of mastery—could scarcely see more than a few hundred kilometers ahead.
Within this choking darkness, the space around him no longer felt stable. It twisted and warped with each step, a shifting, contorting pressure that gave the illusion of forward movement, even as it tore at his body and soul from every direction. Though his form advanced straight and unwavering, it felt as though he were caught in a chaotic current of time and destruction—where moments stretched endlessly, yet froze all the same. It was a sensation he had once known too well… back in the distant past, when he first plummeted into the Abyss through the broken passage from the God Realm of Absolute Beginning.
And yet… Yun Che pressed on.
He could not see his destination, but he did not need to. From the moment he stepped into this deeper abyss, the Mirror of Samsara—within the depths of his soul—had begun to tremble violently, resonating with a force both ancient and boundless. The farther he ventured, the more intensely it shook, until at last, it could no longer remain hidden. It emerged, silently and majestically, from within him, casting a soft, surreal radiance that pushed back against the void.
Its light, though faint, was absolute. It shimmered not with profound energy, but with something purer—something untouched by time, dust, or death. And now, like a beacon of destiny, it floated before Yun Che, illuminating a path through the eternal black, guiding him toward the very place that even the Abyss dared not gaze upon.
The Well of Samsara was near.
Back then, when Yun Che's consciousness had been forcefully drawn into the Well of Samsara by the will of the Heaven Punishing Ancestral Sword, he had sensed it faintly—an almost imperceptible pull from the Mirror of Samsara. It wasn't trying to follow him out of concern or obligation… it was trying to return. Return to the very place it had once come from. Yet, at that time, it had failed. Whether it was due to the overwhelming power of the sword or the limitations of his cultivation, the Mirror could not break free.
But now… now things were different.
Yun Che was advancing of his own will, and this time, the Mirror no longer struggled. It resonated. It pulsed with anticipation, a rhythmic hum that vibrated through his bones, as if the ancient artifact—dormant for countless eons—had finally felt the call of its birthplace. With each step he took, the Mirror grew brighter, its gentle light cutting through the oppressive abyss like a divine torch, illuminating a world that no other living being could ever hope to witness.
The Abyssal Dust, which could devour all things and bring even gods to their knees, scattered like mist in the face of the Mirror's presence. As if the dust itself remembered. As if it, too, knew this divine relic had once been part of the deepest truth of the Abyss… and dared not resist its passage.
"It must be close…" Yun Che whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible, not in the wouside world, but inside his mind amidst the heavy stillness that surrounded him.
Just as he continued to push forward, the Mirror of Samsara suddenly surged with a pulse so fierce it sent tremors down his arms.
"...Mother?"
!!!!!!!!!!!
A voice echoed—young, yet ancient… distant, yet impossibly close rang out. It didn't ring in his ears, but rather deep within the marrow of his soul, as though it had bypassed the body entirely and touched something far more sacred. The tone was laced with warmth, with joy, with a longing that spanned endless ages, and at the same time, the Mirror of Samsara in his grip quivered violently, trembling like a child on the verge of reunion.
Every strand of Yun Che's hair stood on end. His aura surged to its absolute limit in an instant, instinct screaming through every fiber of his being. Yet, no matter how sharply he honed his divine sense, how deeply he tried to peer through the impenetrable abyss before him, there was nothing—no form, no presence, no ripple of life, not even a trace of residual will. And that was what frightened him the most.
This far down in the Endless Fog Sea… nothing should exist.
No beasts. No ghosts. No whispers of life or sound. The Abyssal Dust, or more accurately, the pure Laws of Destruction and Death that composed it, had eroded space and time to such a degree that reality itself was distorted beyond recognition. The very fabric of existence was crumbling. Space tore and reformed endlessly, but even the sound of those tears—those universe-splitting howls that should have thundered out—were swallowed whole.
This place… was supposed to be absolute silence.
A graveyard of sound. A void that consumed even echoes.
And yet—he had heard that voice.
"WHO?!" Yun Che roared within the confines of his soul, the sheer force of his will shaking the surrounding dust like a silent quake. But no answer came. He waited. And waited still. Time, here, stretched and bent until it lost all meaning—seconds became eternities, and eternities passed like a blink.
But no sound came again.
No presence revealed itself.
Only silence, once more… and the maddening heartbeat of the Mirror, still trembling in his hands.
After what felt like an eternity, Yun Che steadied his mind and forced himself to continue moving forward, each step taken with unwavering resolve despite the mounting weight pressing down on his shoulders. His divine sense remained fully extended, alert to the slightest anomaly, but aside from the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat echoing within the empty silence, he heard nothing—no whispers, no movements, not even the faintest flicker of sound. It was as if the world itself had ceased to exist around him.
Perhaps it was due to his ever-deepening descent into the Endless Fog Sea, or perhaps the laws of reality were beginning to fray altogether, but the Abyssal Dust around him grew impossibly thick—so dense it nearly congealed into solid matter, swallowing even the faint glow emitted by the Mirror of Samsara that hovered faintly ahead to guide his path. The light, once illuminating the darkness like a beacon, now grew dimmer and dimmer, as if struggling to hold back the weight of oblivion itself.
And Yun Che's steps—once firm—began to falter. From merely difficult to utterly exhausting, each step forward required monumental effort. It felt as though the very Laws of this abyssal world had risen in defiance of his presence, roaring soundlessly as they surged against him like invisible waves of destruction. The Laws—pure, untamed, and sharpened to their most primal form—were not merely suppressing him; they were trying to consume him whole, to strip away not just his power but his very soul. With every step, Yun Che felt those laws scrape across his soul like jagged blades, tearing at the edges of his consciousness, threatening to unravel him entirely.
Yet, despite the soul-rending agony, he did not stop.
His mortal soul, which resided within the most powerful body ever formed in the Primal Chaos—a body born of the Ancestral Goddess herself—held firm against the assault, shielding him from total annihilation. That divine vessel, however, came at a cost. Everything else, every item he wore, every robe, every artifact summoned from the sanctuary of his soul, had long since been devoured by the Abyssal Dust. Not a shred remained. And no matter how many times he attempted to summon new garments or armor, they would vanish the instant they emerged—obliterated before they could even touch his skin.
Eventually, Yun Che gave up entirely.
Naked against the storm of laws and surrounded by nothingness, he marched forward—his body exposed. His dragon, hidden and suppressed for so long, now flowed freely with each step.
Soon, Yun Che's steps no longer merely grew heavier—they became a burden nearly impossible to bear. It was not just pressure or exhaustion; the very air before him had transformed into an impenetrable wall, a barrier composed of Abyssal Dust so dense, so absolute, that even with the radiant guidance of the Mirror of Samsara, Yun Che felt as if he were attempting to pass through the fabric of creation itself. The dust was no longer simply dust—it was the breath of annihilation, a living boundary woven from destruction and death so pure that even a Creation God or Devil Emperor would find themselves erased upon contact.
Although Yun Che had not yet reached such a transcendent level of power himself, he had once stood in the presence of the Heaven Smithing Devil Emperor—an entity whose strength defied comprehension, whose very existence radiated the majesty of an ancient cosmos. Her power was immeasurable, a force so vast and alien that it defied all logic, all framework of understanding. And yet, standing before this invisible, crushing wall of Abyssal Dust, Yun Che could not help but feel that what blocked his path now—this abyssal, choking pressure—was something even more terrifying. Not in the way of malevolent will or divine authority, but in sheer, raw inevitability. This was not an enemy—it was the law of dissolution itself.
Gritting his teeth, Yun Che summoned every last ounce of strength from his body, mind, and soul, allowing the power of his surroundings to surge into him. As his flesh trembled and his Profound Veins roared, the dust before him quivered ever so slightly—just enough to hint at weakness, just enough to let him believe he could push through. And so, step by step, he pressed onward. With every heartbeat, he advanced a single step more, shoving his body through a wall that sought to erase him entirely. The Mirror of Samsara, still clutched tightly in his hand, shook violently with excitement—as if it, too, could sense that its destination lay just beyond this unfathomable veil.
And then, deep within Yun Che's Profound Veins, something stirred.
The Infinite Worlds—those vast realms that resided within him like a divine constellation—began to tremble. As though awakened by the pressure and chaos of the surrounding abyss, they surged into activity, greedily absorbing the tainted energy around him. One by one, the worlds within him responded to his need, their boundaries glowing with incandescent life as they began yet another transformation—each world absorbing, refining, evolving, as if nourished by the very ruin that sought to consume him.
Yet even with all of this power—his endless absorption, the awakening of his worlds, the raging energy flooding his body like an unstoppable tide—the wall of Abyssal Dust before him barely yielded. It weakened, yes, but only slightly, like a massive ocean barely stirred by a single drop of rain.
!!!!!!!
Suddenly, as Yun Che pressed forward into the unfathomable depths of the Endless Fog Sea, his body jerked to a halt as an unbearable pain surged through every nerve of his being. Gasping, he looked down at himself—only to witness his flesh, despite all his control over the Abyssal Dust, beginning to tear apart under the pressure of this realm. It was not a single injury, nor a sudden blow—but a ceaseless, merciless process of erosion. The moment his skin was torn, it would instantly begin to heal, only to be torn open again before the healing could complete. Over and over, the cycle continued. Flesh ripped and knit, bones cracked and reformed, blood spilled and was absorbed back into his body—yet despite the astonishing resilience he possessed, the tearing gradually outpaced the healing.
"This feeling...!" Yun Che muttered, his voice hoarse and strained as he staggered under the weight of agony. There, within the depths of his own body, he felt something stirring—a sensation so foreign, yet not unfamiliar. He had felt it once before... back when he first activated the Othershore Asura technique. But back then, amidst the maelstrom of chaos, violence, and overwhelming events, he'd had neither the time nor clarity to understand it. It had vanished almost as quickly as it came, lost in the tide of battle. But now… now it returned—clearer, stronger, as if it had always been waiting beneath the surface of his power for the right moment to awaken.
For several long breaths, Yun Che stood frozen, as though caught between the agony of the present and the beckoning of some deeper power within. And then, with fierce resolve blazing in his blood-soaked eyes, he stepped forward again. One step. Then another. Each movement, each inch gained, came at the cost of new wounds bursting across his body. The very laws of this realm—the pure, unrestrained Laws of Destruction—ripped into him as though determined to erase his existence. Blood poured from his skin in rivulets, torn by invisible blades of law and chaos, while his body trembled with each passing second.
But even so, the Great Way of the Buddha—his immortal foundation, the sacred light of regeneration—roared to life within him. It activated at its highest potential, its golden glow burning furiously against the relentless erosion of destruction. Like a candle in a storm, it refused to flicker out. Wound for wound, inch for inch, it pushed back against annihilation, repairing flesh, reforging bones, sustaining breath.
With another agonizing step forward, Yun Che's entire body was now riddled with wounds—his once-pristine, handsome face was slashed so deeply that white fragments of bone glimmered through the gashes like jagged ice beneath cracked glass. Yet, disturbingly, not a single drop of blood remained; the moment it left his flesh, it was devoured by the very Abyssal Dust that surrounded him, annihilated before it could even touch the air. The terrifying laws of destruction in this region did not merely cut—they erased, without mercy and without trace.
Sensing that he had finally reached the very threshold of his endurance, Yun Che allowed himself to sink slowly into a seated posture, each movement carried out with deliberate control as his trembling body cried out in silent protest. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, drawing in the suffocating Abyssal Dust and the twisted, incomprehensibly pure Laws embedded within it. Like a starving beast, he devoured every ounce of its power, breaking it down and forcing it to fuel the unceasing engine of regeneration that was the Great Way of the Buddha. Every cell of his body burned, his soul stretched thin as the Great Way surged, illuminating the darkness within him.
Within his soul, the golden pagoda that represented the Great Way of the Buddha had long begun to spin with an intensity that surpassed anything Yun Che had ever experienced in his cultivation path. It spun faster and faster, the golden light turning blinding, almost white, as its structure trembled—and then, without warning, cracks tore across its surface like thunderclaps in a void.
CRACKKKKK—CRACKKKKKKK—BOOOOMMMMM!!!
In an instant, the golden pagoda exploded into pure oblivion, shattering into motes of light. But just as it was destroyed, Yun Che's body quaked violently as an immeasurable golden radiance erupted outward, swallowing the destruction around him. His flesh, once torn and stripped to the bone, mended in a heartbeat, defying even the annihilating power of the surrounding laws. And then, from the core of his being—where the old pagoda had once stood—rose a new construct, reborn from destruction, glowing with divine majesty.
This new pagoda was unlike the last. Its brilliance was no longer merely profound—it was divine. Every inch of its form radiated sacred light and boundless vitality, a manifestation of the heavens themselves descending into mortal form. Yun Che, still seated in the midst of the churning dust, opened his inner eyes to witness its rise. The moment he beheld it, he knew.
"I've… broken through." he murmured, awe washing over him in silence.
He had reached the Seventh Stage of the Great Way of the Buddha—a realm said to belong only to the Gods themselves. A level no mortal should ever touch.
From his body, he could already feel it—his regenerative power had become terrifying in magnitude, surging with a speed and strength that outpaced even the relentless Laws of Destruction. His absorption of the surrounding Abyssal Dust and its intertwined Laws became smoother, deeper, and infinitely more efficient. Even his long-stagnant cultivation began to stir once more, as if awakened by the divine upheaval surging from within him.
Yet the transformation did not come to a halt. Yun Che could feel the newly formed divine pagoda within his soul trembling violently as an overwhelming surge of energy rushed toward it, as though the very fabric of the Abyss itself was being drawn into its sacred structure.
"CRACK... CRACK... BOOOOMMMMM!"The deafening echoes of shattering resounded once again within the depths of his soul as the divine pagoda, unable to contain the boundless force pouring into it, fractured and exploded in a radiant burst of light. But in the very next breath, from the ruins of its former form, a new pagoda took shape—grander and more majestic than before—its surface bathed in divine golden radiance so intense it seemed to illuminate even the darkness of the Endless Fog Sea itself.
ANOTHER BREAKTHROUGH!
And just like that, Yun Che—through agony, determination, and transcendence—had broken through not once, but twice in succession.
As Yun Che slowly opened his eyes, the world before him had transformed—or rather, his perception of it had ascended to a height he had never before imagined. What he now saw stretched far beyond the reach of mortal comprehension. Countless ethereal threads shimmered and intertwined through the dense darkness, like the weaving of a grand cosmic tapestry, drifting endlessly in every direction, unseen to the eye of man until this moment.
"This... these are the Laws?" Yun Che murmured under his breath; his voice laced with disbelief and wonder.
The glowing strands, so subtle and yet so incomprehensibly vast, pulsed faintly as they converged toward him. One after another, they flowed into his body, merging with his flesh, bones, and soul before being quietly refined into pure power. These were not visible to him before, not even when he had wielded the highest attainments of cultivation or when he had traversed the brink of life and death itself—but now, with the shattering and rebirth of the Great Way of the Buddha within him, he was seeing what no mortal should ever see.
This was the realm where comprehension of the Laws of nature began to intertwine with the resistance of a divine body—the fabled realm of the Eighth Stage of the Great Way of the Buddha.
Rising to his feet slowly, Yun Che looked out upon the abyss that surrounded him. On the surface, nothing had changed—the blackness still reigned, the Abyssal Dust still twisted and surged like a living tide, swallowing all light and time within its grip. But now, to Yun Che's awakened eyes, it was not an endless void—it was structure, it was design, it was Law.
The Abyssal Dust that once seemed like formless chaos was now, in his sight, composed of innumerable threads of Law—each one a fragment of a truth, a principle of destruction, death, time, and reincarnation. The very essence of the Abyss revealed itself to him, and he understood, with bone-deep clarity, that the world had not changed at all.
It was he who had changed.
And as Yun Che stood amidst the swirling darkness, beholding the countless threads of Law intertwining through the void, a profound realization settled into his heart. These threads—these divine patterns of existence and annihilation—were not the kind of Laws understood or wielded by ordinary Gods. No… even among the True Gods of legend, only those who had stepped into the Ancient True God Realm or beyond could begin to perceive such threads, much less absorb and refine them.
Yet here he stood, not only seeing them but drawing them into himself.
This unfathomable miracle, this divine comprehension, was not solely the result of his breakthrough in the Great Way of the Buddha. No... there was something far more fundamental and singular at play.
It was because his body—his very vessel—his body was that of the Ancestral Goddess—the one existence in all creation designed to resonate with every Law of the universe, to harmonize with all things divine, destructive, or eternal.
The fusion of the Buddha's ultimate path and the Ancestral Goddess's vessel had created something unheard of. A perfect harmony of comprehension and compatibility, of mind, body, and soul—a state that allowed Yun Che not merely to survive in this most forbidden corner of existence, but to grow stronger with each breath.
In this world where everything was meant to be reduced to nothingness, he alone advanced.