A Shadow Crossing Dimensions
That was right. The sword Fu Qian had just used—the prop and the movements alike—came straight from the events in the memoir. It was the work Old Master Li had created after losing his beloved and reaching a profound awakening.
Even the lines before that had been plagiarized.
And that had been the purpose of Fu Qian's challenge.
From the mission summary, it was clear that aside from him, the person assigned to the mission, the other survivors who had ultimately found release had no distinct memories of what they had experienced in the memoir.
In other words, the most likely fate of Old Master Li's world-shaking sword strike was to be buried in a memory that had never fully taken shape.
As a scholar, Fu Qian couldn't help but regret the waste of such a valuable piece of knowledge.
When the opportunity arose, passing it on was no more than a small favor.
And Brother Wei Xuan standing before him was undoubtedly a suitable recipient.
Peak Fourth Order, just one step away from demigodhood, with a steadfast mind unafraid of illusions—and he was already a bloodline successor of Old Master Li.
So, taking advantage of the opportunity, Fu Qian had chosen to use Clear Dream to recreate that sword strike as faithfully as possible.
If this widely favored candidate for the institute's next dean could glean even a little insight from it and benefit in some way, that would be a blessing for the academy.
Then he and the other old hands like Cas could more freely live as carefree wanderers.
As it turned out, this man really did seem to have gained something.
The dream dissipated. Fu Qian hadn't even changed his stance. Looking at Li Weixuan, who was in much the same state,