Although he would never say it aloud, Strange had indeed had a rather ominous premonition about the future.
Every time he was dragged into He Shenyan's laboratory, he was forced to work overtime for an absurdly long time. Now, that premonition had come true.
By now, he had been in the laboratory for three weeks, and he was starting to look a little delirious.
He Shenyan, meanwhile, remained as energetic as ever. That was the benefit of handing the complicated calculations off to someone else; he was only responsible for theory and raising questions. Strange had objected, but one sentence had shut him down.
"I can calculate the data, but can you come up with the theories for our research and determine our next direction?"
Strange yawned, pressed his palms together, and swung them sharply apart. The calculations and conjectures filling the air all vanished.
Three weeks of deductions had yielded considerable results. At the very least, they had figured out one thing.
If they continued following Vaivan's line of thought, there would be no future in it. Worse still, they might give this world another major disaster. They had plenty of "superheroes" to help this time, but—
If no one had to die, then it was best not to let anyone die.
In Vaivan's conception, his World-Breaking Method involved blasting open the World Barrier, then immediately jumping outside before the Outer Gods noticed—like a cat stealing cookies while its owner was not looking.
His idea had been crude yet wildly imaginative, and his ability to act had been as terrifying as a cat's. Without consulting anyone, he had blown it up as soon as he obtained the raw materials, killing himself in the process.
There were enormous problems with what he had done.
First, according to current research, the World Barrier was difficult to repair. After all, cookies eaten by a cat would not come back on their own.
Second, without the World Barrier to conceal it, the Outer Gods could easily discover a world with a shattered World Barrier. At that point, whether The Void harbored malice or not, they would most likely drift over for a curious look, just like humans watching a spectacle.
He Shenyan did not want to cause the destruction of a world because of himself. He wanted to make one attempt with no restraints, but he was not insane enough to make an entire world pay the price.
In the end, one had to have principles.
Otherwise, even if he succeeded in returning, how would he face the people of that world?
Back to the main topic.
Vaivan had failed, but his failure had value. At least he had proven one thing: the World Barrier could be damaged. It was not indestructible. That also meant it could be changed.
Their research and practical direction began there—seven hundred years ago, an unnamed successor of Vaivan had spent his entire life inventing a spell: the Eye of Observation.
It had only one effect: to search for and observe the weakest point in the World Barrier closest to the caster.
He Shenyan closed his eyes. When he opened them again, points of starlight glimmered within them. His gaze pierced through everything and reached Antarctica. If the World Barrier had consciousness, it would probably have screamed and slapped He Shenyan across the face right then. His gaze was rather lecherous.
Five minutes later, he found the weakest point in the World Barrier at this moment in time.
Antarctica.
He turned and gave Strange a slight nod. Strange quickly opened a Portal, beyond which lay pale land covered in ice and snow. The two stepped through the Portal, standing amid the howling blizzard in thin clothing. They exchanged a glance and saw excitement in each other's eyes.
Strange had even completely forgotten that he had intended to stop him.
"Then, according to our theory."
He Shenyan spread his hands, pressed his joined index and middle fingers to his temple, and let a surge of powerful Magic Power flash past. He forcibly tore out half his soul. A pale blue, illusory shadow swayed gently in the snowstorm, revealing a kind of unreal beauty.
Filled with the anticipation of witnessing history, Strange gazed in admiration at the man before him, whose face was pale and twisted with pain from having his soul split apart.
"You really are insane, He."
"I never said I wasn't." He Shenyan answered with a smile. "But I am also a Mage. We should always remain curious and strive forward, shouldn't we?"
Amid Antarctica's endless snowstorm, he raised his hand without hesitation—light flashed, and Strange knew what he had done. He had merged half of his soul into the World Barrier.
The wisdom of countless predecessors, along with their deductions, had together created this mad method.
In the sixth century AD, the madman Vaivan Dukevich died. Of the seventy Mages traveling with him, the three survivors resolved the flesh contamination, divided his research results into three parts, and sealed them within their own tombs.
In the thirteenth century, an unnamed Mage from India concluded through calculation that the World Barrier could protect intelligent beings in the universe from the gaze of the Outer Gods, and proved it.
In the seventeenth century, Isaac Newton left behind his final stack of manuscripts before his death. In them, he posed a question as an alchemist.
As a Mage, he inevitably thought of Vaivan Dukevich in the final moments of his life and walked down the same path of research.
From ancient times to the present, countless Mages had fallen one after another upon this road without regret. No one asked whether it was worth it. No one knew whether they would succeed, and no one knew whether what they were doing was right.
But why not try? Humanity was that kind of species.
In the next second, Strange nearly wept at what happened. He had not canceled the Eye of Observation, and from his perspective, his senior brother's body standing there had taken on the same color as the World Barrier.
Voidlike, transparent white.
"You..." Overwhelmed by excitement and emotion, he collapsed to the ground. Strange raised a hand, pointed at He Shenyan, and could barely speak, only managing to force out broken words.
He Shenyan remained standing.
A powerful impulse surged within him—unceasingly, almost instinctively, almost intuitively.
He realized, Perhaps I have lived these ten years for this very moment.
Then he smiled. That smile was like a child's.
"We succeeded, Strange."
Those were the last words he left for that world.
When he opened his eyes again, he had arrived in a strange new realm—countless glass bead-like objects enveloped rotating nebulae. He stared at them in fascination, trembling deeply.
Beyond them, enormous black shadows lurked in the sea of stars, existing silently and desolately. They simply existed, utterly motionless,
Traveling.
Only that word could describe what he was doing now. The smile on He Shenyan's face did not fade for even a moment. He had succeeded—standing upon the shoulders and experiences of countless people, he and Strange had succeeded. He had left that world one final, precious gift, and he himself was about to have his wish fulfilled.
Yet before this moment, he had not actually known whether he would die the instant he crossed the World Barrier, nor whether the outside truly contained other worlds as his predecessors had theorized.
He simply could not wait any longer.
Rather than do nothing, he would rather die on the road home.
Heaven knew how long he had suppressed this feeling. He had come alone to this unfamiliar world for ten years, spending his twenties alone until he reached thirty. He had always thought about it. That world had no superheroes, nor any so-called magic.
But that world had home.
A home he at least knew, rather than a place that was familiar yet alien, rather than a place where even the Jade Emperor from myth and legend wore Western armor.
Though he had never truly admitted it, He Shenyan believed that he did miss his homeland.
Yet after the brief excitement passed, he could not help but feel dazed. He had succeeded, yes, but what came next?
He Shenyan suddenly realized that he had never calculated what he should do after succeeding.
A bitter smile bloomed on his face—was this the downside of staking everything on one desperate gamble?
At the same time, a sense of exhaustion rose from deep within him. That intuition appeared again and began whispering in his heart through some means humanity had yet to understand.
The lone Mage silently raised his head. Above him, a world wrapped in transparent matter slowly rotated, and within it, a similar azure planet was turning.
A temporary place to rest?
Without hesitation, he entered it.
Before you continue