Chapter 589 - 360: The Void(Extra Chap)

The next day.

Pale, golden morning sunlight filtered through the delicate wooden lattice of the courtyard windows, casting soft, warm squares across the polished cedar floorboards.

The pungent tang of boiled spirit herbs, crushed ginseng roots, and bitter wolfberry salves filled the spacious bedchamber, completely overtaking the lingering scent of smoke that still drifted through the outer courtyards of the Ye Clan estate.

Outside, the steady thud of mallets and the quiet murmur of guards hauling away debris signaled the slow, stubborn revival of the city.

Ye Hongyan and Shen Haoran are inside Ye Liuman’s room, who was still recovering.

The patriarch of the Ye Clan lay propped up against a mountain of plush silk pillows.

Thick white bandages, soaked with dark green medicinal paste, wrapped tightly around his broad chest and shoulders, binding the cracked ribs and shielding the jagged wound along his spine where the poison needles had been extracted.

His face was still drained of color, his breathing shallow, yet the ferocious, stubborn vitality of a man who had weathered hundreds of winters kept his jaw firm.

Yan Renhua sat beside the bed, peeling an apple.

Her slender, pale fingers moved with practiced, unhurried grace, guiding a small silver fruit knife around the crimson skin of a sweet spirit apple.

She wore a simple, unadorned robe of soft plum silk, her hair gathered loosely with a plain wooden hairpin.

Even with faint circles of exhaustion tracing the hollows beneath her gentle eyes, her posture radiated the quiet, unshakable dignity of a matriarch who had guarded her family through hellfire and walked out the other side.

"Mother, we’ll be leaving now." Said Ye Hongyan.

Ye Hongyan stood near the foot of the bed, her long, pink hair was currently tied back with a clean band of vermilion silk, and her eyes, though carrying the quiet weight of the trials behind them, were clear and steady.

Beside her, Shen Haoran stood tall and composed in his black and gold imperial garments, his hands resting naturally behind his back, exuding a calm, effortless presence that made the vast chamber feel smaller than it was.

Yan Renhua paused, the silver blade freezing against the sweet white meat of the fruit, and looked up at her, "Can’t you stay for awhile? Your father is like this. It’s impossible for him to work."

Her soft voice trembled slightly, colored by a mother’s quiet, aching longing.

Her eyes darted toward the bandages binding her husband’s chest, her brow furrowing with gentle worry.

"I told you, I’m fine. I’m a Heavenly Saint realm expert." Ye Liuman clicked his tongue in annoyance, his voice rough and raspy like gravel ground between millstones, though he tried his best to puff out his bandaged chest.

A sudden, sharp cough tore through his throat, making him wince as the fresh scabs along his ribs pulled tight.

Yan Renhua immediately set the half-peeled apple into a porcelain bowl, her eyes narrowing as she pressed a stern, gentle palm against his shoulder, forcing him flat against the pillows.

"You are a Heavenly Saint who took poison needles to the spine," Yan Renhua scolded softly, her tone carrying that quiet, absolute authority that no patriarch dared cross. "If you try to lift even an iron brush today, I will have the physician double the bitter root in your draught."

Ye Liuman grumbled beneath his breath, looking away toward the open window like a scolded youth, before turning towards Ye Hongyan, "Go. I’m sure you’re busy as well."

His bloodshot eyes softened as he looked upon his eldest daughter.

There was no trace of the pompous, greedy tyrant who had once broken her youthful dreams for the sake of the clan’s face.

He knew the sky she flew in was vast, far beyond the narrow walls of this provincial city.

To clip her wings and keep her chained to account books and petty clan politics would be to repeat the very sin he had spent ten centuries lamenting.

Yan Renhua wiped her fingers on a clean silk cloth and stood up from her wooden stool.

She stepped toward the young pair, her gaze brimming with a warmth that seemed to banish the lingering morning chill from the room.

She reached out, gathering Ye Hongyan into a tight, lingering embrace.

She buried her face into the curve of her daughter’s neck, breathing in the scent of mountain wind and lotus that clung to her silk, her slender arms trembling with fierce, protective devotion.

"Take care of yourself, my child," Yan Renhua whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Do not push yourself until you break. The world outside is wide and full of wolves, but remember that no matter how far you fly, you have a mother who prays for your safe return with every breath."

Ye Hongyan closed her eyes, her arms wrapping around her mother’s shoulders, resting her chin against the soft plum silk.

"I know, Mother. I will."

Yan Renhua slowly pulled back, gently patting her daughter’s cheeks, before turning toward the young master of the Shen Clan.

She looked at his striking golden hair, his calm golden eyes, and stepped forward, wrapping him in an embrace that was just as warm, maternal, and genuine.

"Look after her, Haoran," Yan Renhua murmured softly against his shoulder, patting his back with gentle affection. "And look after yourself. The burden you carry on your shoulders is heavier than mountains, but a dragon must also remember to rest when the clouds part."

Haoran did not flinch, nor did he pull away. He simply offered a respectful, measured nod. "I will, ma’am. Rest well, and let the old man recover his strength."

From the bed, Ye Liuman let out another indignant grunt at being called an old man, but the corners of his weathered mouth twitched upward.

The two turned toward the doorway, the cool mountain breeze rustling the hems of their robes as they stepped across the threshold.

And in the end, as Ye Hongyan was about to leave, she turned towards Ye Liuman, her hand resting against the carved wooden doorframe, her pink eyes meeting his with quiet, unshakeable sincerity.

"See you soon, dad."

Ye Liuman froze against his pillows. His breath caught in his throat, his calloused hands clutching the silk blanket so hard his knuckles turned white.

For a thousand years, she had called him Patriarch, tyrant, or nothing at all.

To hear that single word fall from her lips, spoken with warmth and promise, made his vision blur with a sudden, stinging moisture.

He didn’t trust his voice to answer. He simply lifted his bandaged right hand, waving it in a short, firm motion, nodding his head as the two silhouettes stepped out into the sunlight.

*

*

*

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Academy.

In a forest where colossal primeval pines, whose trunks were thick as watchtowers, reached into a sky painted in soft shades of azure and pale jade.

Spiritual mist pooled along the mossy forest floor, glowing faintly with the pure, ambient world-essence that nourished the academy grounds.

A blinding flash of radiant light illuminated the dense canopy.

Qian Yunxi descended on a forest, six colossal wings of purest, blinding celestial light unfurled behind her back, each feather glowing like a blade of polished gold, casting long, sharp shadows through the thick trunks of the ancient trees.

The divine luminescence drove away the perpetual twilight of the deep grove, revealing the torn brush, shattered wooden barricades, and gouged dirt of a recent, violent ambush.

She landed lightly upon a patch of crushed ferns, her boots barely making a sound against the damp loam.

She looked around, the six radiant appendages folded inward, dissolving into showers of harmless golden sparks that vanished into her fair skin.

Her long blonde hair cascaded over the shoulders of her pristine, form-fitting white battle tunic, which was lined with fine silver mail.

Her sharp, blue eyes narrowed into slits of frustration as she swept her gaze across the quiet glade.

"Gone again. Those people are really like rats."

Her voice was cold, sharp, and laden with disgust.

What she was after are those people who are hunting down their gamers, slowing down their grinding and progress.

These bastards struck with terrifying precision, cutting down leveling parties, camping resurrect points, destroying newly constructed logging outposts, and dragging down the players’ progression rates by weeks.

However, every time they attack and reinforcement arrives, the attackers already disappeared.

It made no logical sense.

Whenever a message was sent by an attacked player, the enforcers, led by the Crowns, could cross several thousand miles in the blink of an eye.

Yet, every single time they tore through the clouds, they will arrived to find only empty clearings, abandoned weapons, and the slowly dissolving blue motes of slain gamers.

It was as if the killers had evaporated into thin air.

This time, Qian Yunxi volunteered to check, yet as expected, she failed to see even a shadow of them.

"No trick can stay hidden from the heavens forever. So..." Qian Yunxi took out a golden sword from her storage ring, "Let me see, just where you are."

She held the hilt with both hands, pointing the glowing tip toward the sky, closing her eyes as her pure, holy spiritual energy rushed into the ancient runes carved along the fuller.

"By the sacred light of the eternal dawn, pierce the veil of falsehood and lay bare the hidden thread! Let no shadow deceive the eye, let no void conceal the wicked! Divine Radiance, reveal the truth!"

HUUUUUM!

A blinding, circular pulse of pure solar radiance expanded from the golden sword!

The light did not simply illuminate the physical world; it pierced through the metaphysical fabric of the environment, peeling back the layers of light, air, and elemental currents like layers of translucent silk.

At that moment, barely ten paces to her left, nestled in the empty air between two ancient pines, the golden light bent awkwardly.

Outlined in sharp, shimmering amber luminescence was the faint, translucent outline of a cloaked figure.

The entity had no shadow on the ground and gave off zero physical presence, hovering silently within an invisible seam that split the atmosphere.

Her eyes widened.

So the reason why these people were able to escape pursuit is because they are hiding in the realm between space, or rather, they are hiding on another dimension that overlaps this world!

It was a brilliant, terrifying revelation.

They weren’t using spatial teleportation scrolls that will leave behind distortion in space that can be traced; they were slipping into a parallel, overlapping dimensional pocket—a shallow void plane that ran concurrent to the physical world!

To the eyes of an ordinary cultivator, they were invisible and untraceable, standing in the exact same spot while remaining completely untouchable behind the dimensional curtain!

Just then, as if noticing that she had caught on, the silhouette panicked and tried to escape.

The shimmering, translucent form twisted violently, its hands flashing through hand-seals to dive deeper into the dark layers of the sub-dimension to sever the tracking light.

"Oh no you don’t!"

Qian Yunxi’s voice rang out like a war horn!

Her six golden wings flared open once more with a deafening crack of thunder, propelling her forward with blinding, light-speed momentum!

She swung the golden sword with both hands, unleashing a colossal, crescent-shaped wave of holy solar fire meant to shatter the dimensional barrier and drag the rat out into the dirt!

"Dawn’s Judgment!"

Seeing the apocalyptic golden wave bearing down upon its pocket, the panicked silhouette inside the spatial fold did not simply curl into a ball.

Driven by the savage, cornered desperation of a trapped beast, the shadow whipped around, its hands thrusting forward to unleash a catastrophic defensive strike!

"Abyssal Collapse!"

A vortex of pitch-black, rotting void-energy erupted from within the spatial seam, howling like a legion of starved ghosts, clashing directly against the descending wave of sacred solar light!

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The collision of two fundamentally opposing cosmic forces—pure, condensed celestial radiance and unstable, abyssal dimensional decay—within the fragile seam between two overlapping planes created an absolute catastrophe!

Heaven and earth groaned!

The clash distorted space and time and tore open a hole through the void!

The surrounding pine trees did not fall; they were sucked backward, aging and decaying in reverse before shattering into grey temporal dust!

The air warped into blinding, multicolored ripples, the fabric of the dimensional seam tearing open like a piece of rotten canvas!

A massive, swirling vortex of absolute, pitch-black nothingness tore open between them!

The hole hummed with a terrifying, irresistible gravitational pull, dragging the rocks, the light, and the very air into its spinning, hungry maw!

Qian Yunxi gasped, her footing ripped from the earth as the chaotic void currents wrapped around her six wings like iron chains, dragging her backward into the yawning abyss!

She swung her golden blade frantically, trying to anchor herself against the physical stone, but the pull was too vast, too chaotic, which she was sucked in!

"Yunxi!"

Behind the trees, a figure rushed out trying to help her, it was Qing Yan.

Ever since they returned, he had been hiding and stalking Qian Yunxi almost every day.

And now, seeing the goddess of his heart being dragged into a collapsing dimensional tear, his heart seized with cold, suffocating terror.

His frame blurred into a streak of azure light, throwing himself across the clearing with reckless, desperate speed.

"No!" He roared, reaching out to her.

His arm extended to its absolute limit, his fingertips grazing the fluttering edge of her white sleeve as he lunged into the roaring vortex.

Yet, against the primeval, ravenous hunger of an unstable void tear, the strength of a young genius was nothing more than a leaf caught in a hurricane.

The gravitational singularity surged outward in a final, violent pulse, swallowing his outstretched arm, his torso, and his desperate shout, but he too was sucked in by the void.

CRACK!

The dimensional seam snapped shut with the dull, hollow sound of an iron gate slamming in a deep cellar.

The roaring wind died instantly.

The black vortex collapsed into a single point of light and vanished without a trace.

The forest fell into dead, suffocating silence.

Only a patch of crushed ferns and a few fading, golden sparks of light remained beneath the quiet shadows of the ancient trees, leaving no hint of where the two had been taken.