"Could you bear to watch our mountain gate's orthodoxy be destroyed once more, its legacy left with no one to carry it on?"
"The world is so vast—why can other mountain gates and sects rise anew from nirvana, while great sects like ours can only meekly perish within it?"
"What injustice is this!"
The newcomer took a deep breath. "Senior Brother, I know your heart is devoted solely to cultivation. You only wish to pursue the Great Dao; even if a Dao Tribulation descended, you would have no regrets."
"But Senior Brother, this is our mountain gate. It is a chance for so many juniors to live."
A flicker of emotion appeared in the long-faced cultivator's eyes as well.
"When has there ever been a sliver of life beneath heaven? Forget it, forget it."
The newcomer's face suddenly lit up with delight. "Senior Brother, the mountain gate still needs you to come forth and preside over it."
"Heaven and earth want to turn us into variables. How can we not break free from this cage and become true variables?"
As though answering his heartfelt words,
streams of fate from the outside world abruptly transformed into roaming dragons and serpents, scattering toward countless places. In the blink of an eye, they had vanished, so swift that they were nearly impossible to see clearly.
Where, exactly, had these wisps of fate, split from the fate of the Six Paths, flown—to what heavens and earth, to what eras?
This trace of change nearly escaped everyone's notice.
Only a scant few gazes caught sight of it, a hint of surprise flickering in their eyes.
Yet they merely glanced at it, making no further move.
To them, the more violently and tumultuously the world's fate surged,
the more they could glimpse a corner of the