He stood up and touched his head. He was bleeding. The blood dripped onto the ground, but nothing happened. It couldn't melt the starry sky or shake all living things—it didn't even cause the slightest unusual phenomenon. No matter how ordinary this clone was, it shouldn't be this powerless.
Where had his strength gone?
Could it be that what happened in the dream was real? When he felt Lord Mi stripping away his power, had he felt it again and again—and, each time, stripped away this clone's power himself?
Unbelievable. Something like that could actually happen. He'd sabotaged himself?
He looked up and surveyed his surroundings. Never mind—he couldn't see very far anyway.
It really was a mountain of garbage. Mountains of trash rose in every direction. But this wasn't refuse from ordinary objects. It was mostly old machinery, and even ancient building stones bearing writing.
He was Lu Yin.
He wasn't dead.
How long had it been? He had no idea. He didn't even know what era it was. When he broke through to the Eternal Life Realm, he'd left behind a clone as a precaution. That clone didn't cultivate or meet with anyone. It stayed hidden inside the cauldron, just in case.
At the time, the Threefold Universe had been facing a calamity. He hadn't known whether Wang Wen might show up in person, or whether Karma Restraint could hold him back. No one could be certain.
Later, when he encountered the Main Dao and faced the unfathomable Master Clan and even the Masters themselves, there was even less chance he'd use this clone.
There wasn't much point in merging with a clone, and even if he did, he had to save this one for last.
Whether it was Wang Wen or the Masters, they had all lived