However Human Civilization developed-or evolved, transformed, or cultivated-it ultimately came down to making choices, over and over.
Jing Jiu and the Green Mountain Patriarch had chosen different paths in the relationship between themselves and the world. Both had reached the highest position and the deepest realm. To put it somewhat inaccurately, they were Human Civilization's predecessor and successor.
From beginning to end, their battle had been motionless, so the waves were sculptures and the coconut grove a painting.
Shen Green Mountain's body was already very weak, and he could only control the All Things Sword Formation with his divine sense. But his divine sense was truly unimaginably powerful. The All Things Sword Formation commanded every rule; neither Peng Lang nor Zhao Layue and the others could reach his body.
Jing Jiu's body was perfect, yet it had become his shackle. Controlled by Shen Green Mountain through the Heaven-Bearing Sword, he could do nothing at all, only sit in that wheelchair.
The two wheelchairs stood beside the sea, as though their occupants were seated in a discussion of the Dao, yet this was more perilous than any battle. It involved the forbidden zone of the soul, the other shore of the Great Dao, that god's will, humanity's fate, and even the legacy of that unknown civilization.
The greatest possibility lay in relinquishment.
Jing Jiu had relinquished his body, yet successfully stood up from his wheelchair and taken his first step forward.
Shen Green Mountain stared at the child and asked with an exceptionally serious expression, "How does it feel?"
The child formed from light and shadow should have been Jing Jiu's divine soul. How was a divine soul to answer a question?
"It feels... a little strange, and a little interesting."
The child's voice was Jing Jiu's voice, only somewhat young.