Standing before his own grave, Zhao Cheng changed his method of deduction. He no longer deduced events, but people. At once, figure after figure appeared. A certain power sheltered them, preventing them from forgetting history.
The force that erased history from the void did not merely erase history from the void—it spared not even the memories of all living beings.
Yet another power, no weaker than the first, protected some of those beings.
As Zhao Cheng observed, a sealed span of time immediately unfolded.
A hundred years ago—more precisely, two years after his sudden disappearance—the mysterious black hand struck again. This time, it was no longer the petty skirmishes of the past. It intended to directly restart the Ancient Cosmos.
To restart the Ancient Cosmos meant for it to collapse, for all phenomena to return to their origin, and then for heaven and earth to reopen, ushering in the next era.
Such divine power was undoubtedly powerful beyond all bounds.
But the reality was that if the mastermind truly possessed such power, it would have been far easier to simply crush the real world, Zhao Cheng included, in one grip.
The restart of the Ancient Cosmos was not its divine ability, but a "mechanism" inherent to the Ancient Cosmos itself.
It was strange, yet perfectly reasonable. The Ancient Cosmos was like a colossal machine: once it started turning, its power was unimaginable. But if one mastered its operating system, a single button would suffice to restart it.
Naturally, restarting the Ancient Cosmos required a price. Otherwise, the mastermind would not have waited until then.
That period was exceptionally tumultuous. As the Ancient Cosmos restarted, old monsters from countless mysterious places emerged one after another, extracting all manner of special powers from the Ancient Cosmos and merging them into themselves. Those