Li Gao Xiong's eyes snapped open. He braced himself for the cold rush of air and the endless fall into darkness.
But it never came.
Instead, he found himself standing on solid ground, surrounded by a soft, brilliant light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"What... where am I?" he muttered, struggling to his feet.
The pain from his wounds was completely gone. His torn clothes looked new again, and the blood on his skin had disappeared. He moved his fingers slowly. There wasn't even a single scratch left.
In front of him was a breathtaking sight. Forest of giant pillars, each as wide as a house, rose high into the clouds and disappeared into the sky. The ground under his feet felt solid, just like normal earth, but something told him this place was anything but normal.
A strange, twisted sound made him quickly turn around, his hand reacting on its own. The Death Ripper Dagger appeared out of thin air and landed in his grip, as if it had been waiting for him all along.
"Stay back!" he shouted, spotting several robed figures walking toward him.
But as they came closer, Li Gao Xiong slowly lowered the dagger, though he kept his guard up.
These weren't the same people who had chased him to the cliff. Their faces showed the same confusion and shock he felt. They didn't look like enemies. They looked just as lost as he was.
He had thought those greedy dogs would have jumped into the abyss after him, desperate to get their hands on the dagger. But seeing these people now, he realized they were not the same. None of the familiar, power hungry faces were among them.
A middle aged man in marchant clothes stumbled forward, her eyes wide with bewilderment
"Where... where are we? I was just in my shop when suddenly..."
"I don't understand," stammered a young man wearing the robes of a minor sect.
"One moment I was cultivating, the next moment I'm here. What is this place?"
Li Gao Xiong loosened his grip on the weapon, and it vanished from his hand. He looked carefully at the growing crowd. None of the faces were familiar. Not a single one.
Then the air itself began to hum.
Whoosh!
Like ripples in water, the space in front of him began to twist. Li Gao Xiong stepped back without thinking as a figure slowly appeared out of thin air. It was an old farmer holding a hoe,his wrinkled face full of confusion.
"By the ancestors," Li Gao Xiong breathed.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
More waves of distortion moved through the large space, bending the air like ripples on water. One by one, people began to appear, as if they were ghosts turning real. Men, women, and even children of all ages and walks of life showed up, all looking lost and confused.
A young mother held a doll tightly in her arms. A warrior stood nearby, his arms full of scars and loosely wrapped in long, thin veils of cloth, like those used in old wedding clothes. A scholar appeared, his fingers stained with ink and a writing brush tucked behind his ear. A poor man in torn clothes blinked slowly, as if even the light hurt his eyes.
They all had the same look on their faces, complete confusion.
'None of them seem to be acting. Either they're all excellent performers, or this situation is real for everyone.'
"Is this…". The scholar began to speak, but his voice faded as a terrible realization struck him.
"Are we all dead?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and cold like a funeral bell. A few people gasped, their faces turning pale as they all started thinking the same thing.
A woman near the back suddenly slapped her own arm and winced.
"But I can feel pain! I can feel my body!"
She pressed her hand to her chest, her eyes wide with confusion.
"My heart is beating. I'm warm. How can I be dead if I still have my body?"
Others began touching themselves, checking their arms, their faces, feeling for warmth and life. The farmer rubbed his callused hands together.
"She's right. I feel solid. Real. Not like a ghost at all."
Li Gao Xiong frowned, looking down at his own hands. They looked real, felt real. He could feel the warmth of his skin, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Yet he remembered the fall.
"This doesn't make sense," muttered the scarred warrior, pressing the veil to his chest.
"When people die, their souls are supposed to leave their bodies behind. But we're all here... complete?"
The scholar adjusted his brush thoughtfully. "Perhaps death works differently than we thought. Maybe we're not just spirits, but something else entirely."
A man near the middle of the crowd suddenly spoke up, his voice shaking with confusion.
"Wait... I remember being run through with a sword. The blade went straight through my chest." He looked down at himself, pulling open his robes to examine his torso.
"But there's nothing here. No wound, no scar, nothing."
He ran his hands over smooth, unbroken skin, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"I felt the steel pierce my heart. I tasted blood in my mouth. I watched my life drain away... but look at me now."
A woman nearby overheard and unconsciously touched her own body, checking her arms and legs.
"I fell from a mountain cliff," she said quietly, almost to herself.
"I remember tumbling through the air, hitting the rocks... every bone in my body should be shattered." She flexed her fingers, moved her arms, tested her legs.
"But I feel perfect."
Others began examining themselves, those who had died violent deaths discovering the same impossible truth. A man who had been trampled by horses found no broken ribs. A woman who had burned in a fire showed no marks on her skin. A young man who had drowned felt no water in his lungs.
Li Gao Xiong remained silent, absorbing the information. 'This is no ordinary realm. Everyone here died, yet we have our bodies. We're healed, but we remember our deaths. Someone or something brought us here with a purpose.'
The mystery deepened. They were dead, yet they had bodies. They were healed, yet they remembered their deaths. Whatever this place was, it followed rules unlike anything from the mortal world.
Li Gao Xiong listened to the confused chatter around him, his expression carefully neutral while his mind raced.
'Smart move.'He thought, watching the scholar wave his brush around as he theorized about death and souls. 'Tell everyone exactly how you died. Why not paint a target on your forehead while you're at it?'
The Death Ripper Dagger appeared when he wanted it and disappeared when he no longer needed it. That meant some part of his power still worked.
But when he tried to use his other skills, nothing happened. His profound energy was completely gone and empty. Still, the dagger answered his call, like it was linked to his soul and not his energy.
The only ability that still worked was one he had learned from the Li family—a secret skill called Soul Pocket. It allowed him to store a special item inside his soul, like putting it into another space. He did not know why it still worked, but one thing was clear. He could not use his other abilities. He was truly powerless.