Nine pages of paper, each carrying a Supernatural Source. Mottled old events were like sandcastles struck by waves—shattered, scattered, until not a trace remained.
During this process, several Demonic Creatures and Monsters in the Return to Truth Scenic Spot nearly suffocated. In that fleeting instant, they saw fragments of the past as the nine great Sources of the Yang Nine Realm flashed by. To speak of tragedy and grandeur, of misery and brutality, drew no response, because no one from that era remained.
There was only deathly silence, soundless. The final firelight of the Yang Nine Realm went out. All supernatural beings returned everything they possessed. Even True Saints could not withstand the final passage of time; their true blood dimmed, devoid of light.
The so-called absorption of Chaos Matter, turning it into one's own power, all came to nothing. After the nine heaps of firelight went out in that pitch-black deep space, all laws turned to ash.
There, no matter how astonishingly talented one was, no matter how heaven-defying one's abilities, everything once gained from the supernatural would ultimately return to supernatural dimness, leaving behind only nine enormous heaps of ashes.
Once they went out, everything was over, reduced to nothingness.
Even the boundless Great Umbrella of Eternal Silence above the sky was falling apart in rustling cascades, completely disintegrating into drifting black ash.
There seemed to be no meaning in speaking of bleakness and misery, because the Yang Nine Realm was empty. No one mourned it; there was only ash raised by the cold wind.
The "lingering scourges" in the Return to Truth Scenic Spot all felt ice run from head to toe. Was this the future they had to face? The Yin Six Realm would also eventually become a story on six fragmented pages. Everything was predetermined.