"Time..."
Wuluo looked at himself in the mirror. He wore the appearance of a youth, seeming very young; even his bearing was the same. Time had left no traces upon him.
Of course, though he had worn this same appearance a hundred million years ago, his temperament had then carried the weight of vicissitudes, without this youthful vitality.
As for the source of that change, it had been shaped by what he had comprehended a hundred million years ago.
Being able to move forward meant vitality!
If an immortal's path had reached its end and they were further scoured by the years, then over time, although their dharma body might endure as long as heaven and earth and their divine soul might live forever undying, their mind would gradually lose its vitality, becoming rotten and deathly still. They might even gradually forget emotion in supreme transcendence, until at last they were assimilated into the Dao between heaven and earth, becoming a stone, a mountain, a wisp of clear wind, a ray of light...
Over the long years, Wuluo had witnessed countless such things.
Such things mostly occurred in forbidden zones.
For those willing to become forbidden zones were generally no hot-blooded prodigies. Their sharpness had long been ground away, and they had lost the will to advance that they once possessed. Instead, they feared the coming of destruction, and so became forbidden zones, severing karma to linger on in miserable existence.
Yet these powerful figures had all once shone brilliantly. They had merely been defeated by time.
Once, they too had been filled with hot blood. They too had pressed onward with unyielding spirit. They too had written their own glory, battling heaven and fighting earth, believing that so long as they wished to do something, there was nothing they