Throughout Death's explanation, Yun Che listened in silence. Though shock churned within his heart, his mind remained steady, carefully digesting every word. And the more he thought about it, the more everything began to make sense—this unfathomable truth was likely the reality he had failed to see until now.
The Abyss… the world beyond the Heavenly Laws… a place filled with chaos, but also shelter, civilization, and life. It was never something that should have existed. Yun Che had climbed higher than nearly any being in existence, and with each rise in power, he began to see the truths of the world that once eluded him.
The Abyss… was not something that the so-called Ancient True Gods could have built.
Even the greatest of them, beings who held entire worlds within their bodies, did not have the power to form the fundamental structures of life from absolute death. At most, they purified the lands—the endless seas of death aura and Abyssal Dust—and reshaped the ruins of Death's discarded fragments into places where life could begin to grow. They may have restored vitality to the barren bones of existence… but the bones themselves, the foundation of the Abyss…
That was not their creation.
Many Ancient True Gods and Ancient True Devils gave their lives to pave the way for the Abyss to flourish. Their sacrifices were undeniable, and their legacy was remembered as those who founded the Abyss.
But the one who created the Abyss...
Yun Che's eyes slowly lifted, falling upon the quiet man beside him—this being who sat like a corpse in form, but whose will and existence predated everything.
It was him. The Law of Death.
The one who gave birth to the Abyss, not for conquest, not for glory, but simply to fulfill a longing that even he could not escape...
No… perhaps it was due to the higher attainment of his soul, or perhaps it was because his mind had transcended the boundaries of mortality—but Yun Che, as he sat in silence, began to sense something beneath Death's words. A subtle shift in tone. A faint tremor in the truth. Something was missing… or perhaps, something had been intentionally concealed or lies about.
But he said nothing. Not yet.
Instead, he allowed the silence to stretch, his gaze calmly fixed on the unmoving form beside him.
After Death's voice faded, the surrounding world responded not with sound, but with stillness. With but a thought, the space around them—already empty—was shattered once more by Death's will. The crumbled remnants of ancient worlds floated in silence, broken planets drifting aimlessly, shards of long-dead realms casting long shadows in the eternal void. The pair sat there, not as enemies, not as teacher and student, but as two men—two beings—staring into a reality that only they could comprehend.
Death did not speak. He merely stared.
And then, after what felt like eons pressed into a single heartbeat, Yun Che's voice broke the silence.
"Senior," he said softly, his tone steady, yet deep, as if it came not just from his lips but from the weight of countless years. "Back then, you told me there is a way to restore the Heavenly Laws to their former glory. At the time, I wasn't certain what you meant. Not until now."
His gaze turned slowly, resting on Death—not with fear, not with awe, but with solemnity.
"You told me your origin… your power… even the birth of the Abyss. But what you didn't tell me… is what the price would be."
"So tell me, senior…" Yun Che's eyes shimmered with divine light, his soul now far too refined to miss the truth hidden between words.
"…does the method to restore the Heavenly Way involve returning you… to the way you once were?"
The words fell like thunder within silence.
And as he asked it, Yun Che understood. He understood why Death had been staring at the void for so long—why his eyes, though lifeless, carried a depth of parting. It wasn't nostalgia.
It was a farewell.
Not to Yun Che.
But to this world.
"It seems your training wasn't a waste of time after all."Death's voice echoed with a quiet satisfaction, one that felt both heavy and strangely proud. He was not surprised by Yun Che's insight—rather, he welcomed it, as if he had long been waiting for this moment.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corners of his lips as he turned his gaze back to the endless void stretching before them.
"Just as you've begun to suspect…" he began, his voice calm, timeless, and resonant with the weight of eras lost, "because I used all the Laws and power that once governed the worlds during the Primordial Era to shape these voids, these broken fragments of once-living realms… the only way to restore the Heavenly Laws to what they once were, is to return all that I created… back to what it was before I interfered—back to nothing."
His words, though simple, carried a crushing finality that made even the infinite space around them feel smaller.
"Once everything I've crafted—the dead planes, the drifting worlds, the twisted fragments of existence—is dissolved into nothingness once more…""…I will take that nothing and return it into the Realm of the Living. Not to destroy—but to rebuild. For in that moment, the balance of laws shall be rewritten. The Heavenly Laws will be reborn, whole again, as they once were when Mother first breathed them into being."
Yun Che remained silent, but his breath had slowed, his heart heavy. He understood.
"And with it," Death continued, his tone distant now, as if he were already beyond this place, already fading into the legacy of what must be done, "the world will once again be capable of nurturing True Gods and True Devils… Even the rise of a few beings on the level of Creation Gods or Devil Emperors will no longer be impossible."
If any living being—mortal or divine—were to hear the words spoken by Death, they would not merely be shocked… they would die from the sheer weight of it, come back to life in disbelief, and perish once more from the truth's unfathomable gravity. To think that the way to restore the Heavenly Laws to their once-pristine state—those very laws that all of existence depend upon—was so simple. So devastatingly simple.
And yet… the irony of such simplicity was that to even reach this realm, to even set foot in the dominion where Death resided, was already something no one in all of history had ever accomplished. No one, except Yun Che.
Of course, Yun Che understood with painful clarity—this wasn't a matter of logic or steps. The method may have sounded as easy as returning the world to a "primordial state," but the cost… the cost was something beyond comprehension. Even without needing to be told, Yun Che's sharpened divine mind and perceptive soul had already pieced together the truth behind Death's quiet voice, behind his words that lingered like farewell wind through the void.
This restoration would require everything.
Once it was done, once the broken worlds were reduced to nothing and that nothing returned to the Realm of the Living… this being before him—this incomprehensible existence that reigned even above the Heavenly Laws—would cease to be as he is now.
He would return to being a Law.
Not a willful being. Not a conscious entity. Not a watcher nor a creator nor a guardian of the dead. Just a Law. Immutable. Untouched. Unreachable. Like the wind that passes through the cracks of the universe, never again to speak, never again to choose, never again to live.
And for someone like him…
For a being who once watched in silence, who grew curious about life, who broke free of the divine design just to exist—who yearned so deeply to walk among the living that he shattered the very order of the universe just to feel…
To willingly abandon all of that—to sacrifice everything he has become just to restore what once was…
That was a price so colossal that not even gods could comprehend it.
Yet here he was, smiling faintly at the void… and preparing to pay it.
But of course… if viewed from a different light—one detached from sentiment, grounded in logic and judgment—then everything that had transpired was, in truth, the consequence of Death's own actions. It was Death who had drained the Realm of Living, it was Death who disrupted the balance, and it was Death who fractured the very Heavenly Laws that once governed all of existence.
So for him to restore the Heavenly Laws to their primordial, untainted state… was not an act of nobility, but rather, a form of penance. A restitution for a crime far older than time itself.
Death—this being who embodied the very opposite of life—had longed to live among mortals, yet was cursed to dwell in solitude. And so, in his desperation, he created the Abyss—not as a prison, but as a sanctuary. Even though his nature was to end life, he had cherished it more than any being ever could. The Abyss was his offering. A cradle for life amidst the void.
But now, to undo the damage he caused, to restore what was broken, the Abyss itself must vanish. The land, the people, the kingdoms—all of it would cease to exist. And if even a single soul remained within it… they would perish with it.
Such cruel irony… that Death, the harbinger of endings, was the one who most loved the living.
And as for Yun Che, standing at the heart of all this, bearing witness to truths even the Gods never knew—his role in all of this had finally become clear in his mind. The invisible thread of fate, stretched from the living world to this realm of silence and death, had pulled him here not to observe, not merely to gain power, but to fulfill a responsibility that transcended reason.
To save the people of the Abyss.
And yet, just as these thoughts coiled around Yun Che's mind like vines of guilt and understanding, Death—who saw straight through the turmoil within him—spoke.
"No... your role is much more than that."
The voice was soft, patient, and yet it struck Yun Che like thunder, dragging him from the storm of his own thoughts and into the clarity of Death's solemn truth.
"With your divine insight, you can see it, can't you?" Death's voice was low, almost like a whisper lost in the flow of eternity. His withered hand, pale and ancient beyond measure, slowly rose and pointed toward the vast void above—where the boundary between life and death, chaos and order, blurred into one.
"The destiny that calls out to you... it does not merely whisper from the Abyss."
His gaze, devoid of life but filled with unfathomable understanding, pierced Yun Che's heart like an arrow wrapped in time."It calls from above.""From the world of mortals... The God Realm... and from beyond."
Yun Che's eyes narrowed slightly, the countless threads of fate that his divine gaze now allowed him to perceive quivering ever so faintly. He saw it—no, he felt it. That invisible pull… that inevitable summons. It stretched from the farthest reaches of the Abyss all the way up—into the Primordial Chaos and beyond. There, something stirred. Something ancient, malicious… waiting.
Understanding this, Yun Che stepped forward with a deep breath and asked solemnly, "Senior... do you know just how powerful the being is... the one that's breaking through the Primordial Chaos Wall?"
Death didn't answer immediately. He simply gazed forward into the void, the remnants of shattered worlds reflecting in his hollow eyes like dying stars. Time itself seemed to pause—then the voice came.
"The current you…" Death finally spoke, his tone neither harsh nor gentle, but weighed with an honesty as heavy as the universe itself,"Even with everything you now possess, even after transcending mortality and touching the divine... if you face it now, Yun Che..."
"...you will fall."
"........"
A long silence passed between them, the vastness of the void echoing with quiet reverence.
"Can you help solve the problem, Senior?" Yun Che finally asked, his voice soft—less out of fear, more out of knowing the answer.
Death's gaze did not waver, nor did it hesitate."No," he replied, his voice calm and resolute. "This is something you must face alone."
There was no sadness in his voice, no regret—only the truth. A truth that Yun Che accepted with a slow, solemn breath. He didn't ask further. Not who the being was. Not why it sought to breach the Primordial Chaos. Those questions no longer mattered. All that mattered now… was whether he could stand against it.
And so, the two remained in stillness. No more words. Only the quiet understanding between one who guided death, and one who walked the path of life burdened with countless fates.
Finally, after an eternity that lasted only a breath, Death rose to his feet.
His form remained as frail and simple as ever, the robes swaying gently despite the lack of wind, his black hair still bound in a modest tail. Yet in this moment, the weight of everything—his origin, his purpose, his farewell—pressed into the very fabric of the void.
He looked at Yun Che, one last time.A look that seemed to pierce all barriers. One not of judgment or power—but of something strangely human.
"Thank you," he said, and the words were almost warm.
"For accompanying me this far. But... they're still waiting for you."
"So it's better we end everything here. Return to the world of the living."
From his withered hand, energy began to gather. It was slow, deliberate—as if he were condensing eternity itself. Soon, a crystal formed, pure and colorless at first, before it began to swirl with endless death energy—black, gray, silver, violet—colors without names, spinning in silent majesty.
The power it radiated was overwhelming. The aura of endings. Of closure. Of stillness eternal.
Yun Che's brows furrowed slightly as he stepped forward.
"This...?" His voice shook slightly from the immense pressure. He could feel it—death itself within that tiny fragment.
"Part of my power," Death answered simply.He paused, then added in a tone heavy with meaning,"Myself, if you will."
"It's just a small fragment of myself. Absorb it into your worlds," Death said plainly, his voice drifting with a calm finality as he turned away.
"Life cannot exist without death. Your infinite worlds… this is the final piece they lack. To truly birth life within them… death must also exist."
He spoke not as a being with emotion, but as a truth long buried beneath the flow of time. His lifeless eyes swept once more across the void, the endless remnants of his creation.
"Once you've finished absorbing it, I will send Little Sister Li Suo, you, and that little dragon lass back. So, the faster you begin, the sooner you return home." With those parting words, Death walked a short distance away. He would not watch. This was Yun Che's path now—his final trial within the realm of death.
Seeing this, Yun Che bowed deeply toward the figure's retreating back. He did not speak. There were no words left to give.
He turned, his eyes growing firm, and sat down cross-legged upon the cold void. His hand slowly reached toward the crystal, a sphere of condensed death so radiant with silence that the surrounding space seemed to recoil from it.
The moment his fingertips brushed against the surface, a sharp breath escaped him.
"So this... is death," he murmured inwardly.
All of time seemed to fracture. The sense of endings—of rot, of collapse, of all things fading into nothing—poured into his body. His divine soul trembled violently as it accepted the essence of Death not as an enemy, but as a natural order.
The crystal did not explode with force. Instead, it starts to seeps into his being—like shadows weaving through light, balancing what had once been incomplete.
Within his Infinite Worlds, the skies dimmed. The oceans stilled. The lands, once brimming with light, began to pulse with the cycle of life and death. The concept of impermanence—the inevitable decline that all things must endure—took root in every realm.
In that moment, the worlds were no longer just immortal paradises. They became real.
"Master… it… smells so good…!"
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A sudden voice rang out within his mind, brimming not just with excitement—but with an extreme, primal hunger. It was Hong'er.
Her voice, though faint and nestled deep within his soul, echoed like the mischievous giggle of a starved beast in Yun Che's ears. And truly, she was a beast—one who had not tasted a single shred of divine steel or profound weapon in what felt like eternity.
After all… during those long, grueling ten thousand years Yun Che spent within the realm of death—training, breaking, suffering, and finally being reborn—Hong'er and You'er, ever-faithful and eternally bound to him, had been left untouched and silent, trapped within the stilled time of his soul.
They hadn't eaten anything in all that time.
"Aahhh... it smells so good!" came Hong'er's voice again, more urgent this time.
Then—without warning—a flash of crimson burst forth from Yun Che's chest.
"Wait—HONG'ER!!!"
But it was too late.
To his absolute horror, the moment her figure emerged, Hong'er didn't pause to ask, didn't hesitate for even a breath—she opened her mouth wide and took a massive bite out of the tip of the crystal that was still slowly seeping into Yun Che's hand.
"CRACKKKKKK!!!"
The sound was deafening. The sheer force of that bite echoed through the void like thunder from the heavens. Yun Che, who had endured death countless times and trained his soul until it rivaled the divine, was… genuinely frightened.
He leapt half a step back in panic. "H-Hong'er! Stop!! That's not food!"
But the red-haired girl didn't care. With her razor-sharp teeth glinting like rubies, she chewed through the Law of Death itself as if it were candy forged from heaven.
"AHHHH—It hurts! But it's soooo yummy!!" she cried out, eyes wide and sparkling with tears, even as she continued munching. The contradiction of pain and delight didn't matter to her—she would devour it.
"CRACKKKKKKKKKKK!!!"
With another chilling crunch, the rest of the crystal shattered completely. And before Yun Che could reach her—gulp. She swallowed it all.
He stood frozen, his eye twitching uncontrollably as his trembling hand hovered midair. His lips parted as if to say something—but no words came out.
A soft glow emerged behind him. Another delicate form appeared, almost identical in shape yet far quieter—You'er.
She didn't speak. She didn't beg. But the way her bright eyes locked onto Yun Che, and the faintest tremble of her small fingers clasped in front of her chest…
He didn't need words. He could feel her hunger—feel her suffering. A sigh heavier than a mountain escaped him.
He turned slightly, casting a glance toward Death… who still stood quietly at a distance with his eyes closed, unmoved by the chaos. It was as though he had foreseen this exact moment.
Yun Che could only swallow the rising frustration in his throat and suppress the urge to yell.
Instead, he reached into his divine worlds and began manifesting some of the best spiritual delicacies he could muster.
You'er smiled faintly and stepped forward without a word, her body glowing with soft moonlight as she quietly picked up her meal.
Hong'er, meanwhile, yawned with contentment, her stomach full, her mischief satisfied… and then—plopped.
She curled up on Yun Che's lap like a sleeping kitten and closed her eyes, mumbling happily.