"Could it be that I truly... can go no further?"
At the edge of a cliff, Ye Xiu gazed at the distant horizon, at the fiery red setting sun, at the sea of crimson clouds, his face utterly lost.
Standing behind him, Ye Lin was seeing Ye Xiu look this bewildered for the first time.
Yet he had witnessed everything that had happened to Ye Xiu.
Not to mention Ye Xiu himself—even if he put himself in Ye Xiu's shoes, he could feel that despair.
It was as agonizing as finding the road ahead cut off.
I struggled desperately for an entire lifetime, even threw away my life for this. I finally fought my way through, and then you tell me that everything in this world has already been arranged, that there is a fixed number of powerful beings.
And that number has already been filled, so all you can do is wait.
Wait for one of the eighteen thousand Hun Yuan Wuji to suffer an accident and die.
Only then would you have a chance to compete for that one position.
But who knew how many Saints across the entire Primordial Continent had their eyes on that position? Those stronger than Ye Xiu were everywhere.
That alone would have been one thing, but Hun Yuan Wuji were deathless and indestructible. Who the hell knew how long he would have to wait?
And beyond Hun Yuan Wuji was the Dao-Seeking realm.
He had seen several Dao-Seeking experts, and they all seemed to have simply given up and rotted away.
"What is the point of cultivation?"
Sitting on a stone, Ye Xiu subjected his own Dao heart to a soul-deep interrogation.
Saints gave up and rotted away. Hun Yuan Wuji gave up and rotted away. Even those in the Dao-Seeking realm