The white paper stretched endlessly, a chaotic flow, and sixteen figures were imprinted on that vast, blank sheet of paper that spanned the void. The pulp beneath their feet rippled slightly, and with each breath, the entire space trembled gently, as if the world was still unformed and was being constantly rewritten.
Several Mystic Void Realm · Middle Stage cultivators around them had already tightened their Fate Soul again. One of them cursed under his breath, his voice extremely deep, yet revealing an uncontrollable tension. "Damn it, I knew they wouldn't let us through so easily."
Another person raised a hand to their chest, their Fate Soul still reeling, but their gaze was fixed on the distant, illusory figure holding a pen. "Keep a close eye on it, the moment that thing puts down its pen, the person will be gone."
The third person slowly squatted down, his fingertips touching the paper. The white surface slightly sank, and a very faint ripple spread outwards. He looked up at the remaining cracks around him, his expression becoming serious. "The first layer is the scale; that sense of division is still lingering in my consciousness."
He flicked his finger slightly, and the remaining golden gleam in his palm flashed and vanished. "This layer is different." The white paper beneath his feet rippled gently once more.
"The structure is changing." A brief silence fell over the crowd. Someone whispered a single word, "Metal." Another added, "Wood."
Their gazes met. The air suddenly tightened. "The Five Elements..."
The moment the voice fell, almost everyone's aura fluctuated slightly. Deductions unfolded rapidly in their minds, and the connections between the rules were forcibly pieced together at this moment, bringing the unknown closer little by little.
Qin Yu at the very front without saying a word.
His gaze passed through the floating remnants and landed on the illusory figure holding a pen deeper in the depths. A thought had just taken shape in the depths of his sea of consciousness when it was suppressed back to the bottom. The aura of the Silent Origin returned to silence, and his whole being was like a black stone sunk into the deep sea, without a ripple.
The next moment, the Chaos Ink Master raised his brush, and the instant the brush tip lifted, the entire paper world was pulled apart.
There was no collapse, no explosion; all the original structures simply vanished. Space was flattened, directions were flattened, and levels were flattened. An even larger, blank white sheet of paper unfolded from nothingness, instantly covering all existence.
The Wordless Heavenly Book descended upon the realm of creation, its whiteness stretching endlessly, boundless as far as the eye could see.
The paper was flowing slowly, like a layer of unsolidified essence breathing, each flow bringing about extremely subtle changes in light and shadow.
Fifteen people were pressed onto the paper, their outlines clearly fitting together, their existence unfolded, and every boundary became incredibly distinct.
The ground beneath my feet became soft and viscous, as if it were made up of countless unfinished structures stacked together, providing support but not stability.
One person tentatively took a step, and as his foot landed, a ripple spread across the white surface.
The moment the ripples spread, the space around him slightly distorted. Some paths disappeared on the spot, while others were regenerated. His figure swayed slightly before he managed to stabilize himself.
No one dared to make a move. The gray-white and gold-tinged wisps of air around them drifted slowly, sometimes approaching, sometimes retreating, their trajectories eerily stable, as if they were filtering something over and over again.
Countless fragments of unfinished structures, half-drawn strokes, float in the void, blurring the Realm Wheel.
Each scar carries an air of brokenness, as if it once truly existed, only to be forcibly erased at some point.
A cultivator's gaze swept over one of the more intact traces, and in the next instant, the trace collapsed, turning into countless tiny specks of light, before disappearing completely.
His breath hitched, and the entire space fell silent for a moment. The Chaos Ink Master in the center fully manifested, his illusory figure stable, his robes flowing, and his ink brush hovering above his head, a drop of ink still clinging to the tip.
The drop of ink fell silently, gently touching the paper, yet a pure white lotus flower bloomed at the point of impact.
The petals unfolded layer by layer, solidifying the surrounding paper. The void receded, and wisps of air swirled around, instantly making that small area capable of holding the weight of the paper.
The second drop of ink fell, the second lotus flower bloomed, the third drop, the fourth drop.
Pure white lotus flowers slowly unfold on the paper, as if marking out nodes that can be opened up for this unformed world.
Fifteen figures simultaneously sensed the change; the fact that they could stand firmly where the lotus flowers were meant that they had been chosen.
The Chaos Ink Master stopped writing, and the entire Wordless Heavenly Book Domain completely stabilized. Everyone stood on this unfinished draft of World Creation.
Breathing was suppressed, Fate Soul tightened, and no one moved. The next step required someone to make the first move.
One person made the first move, but he didn't make a move. He slowly raised his hands, palms facing inward, and placed them on his chest. In the next instant, the foundation of his Dao began to collapse.
Layer by layer, the spiritual patterns on his body surface detached on their own, like dust blown away by the wind, rising from his skin and drifting towards the surrounding white surface.
Memories of battles and training opportunities surfaced, each scene fragmented and detached from his eyes, falling onto the paper.
The fragments dissolved and dissipated upon touching the white surface. His aura rapidly declined, his realm receded, and his power dissipated. His entire being began to regress from a "formed existence."
Returning to his original state, he gritted his teeth and persevered without stopping, continuing the peeling process. On the other side, a female cultivator raised her hand, her fingertips gently tracing a line between her eyebrows.
A thin line appeared, revealing a crack in her memory. All her experiences were forcibly dismantled at that moment, and images surged from her sea of consciousness.
Like a torrent, countless fragments of light and shadow burst forth from the body, suspended in the air, and then fell piece by piece into the white paper, dissolving into it.
Her eyes quickly went blank, her spirit vanished, her aura fluctuated violently, and her body began to sway. Her feet sank, but she forced herself to stand and continued to unleash her power.
The third person directly drew his sword, not outwards but inwards, piercing into his own Fate Soul. The sword light exploded, severing his connection with all external causality in that instant.
The connection vanished, the vital energy severed. He stood there, like an isolated entity, all ties severed, his aura suddenly becoming pure.
But suddenly, the white surface beneath his feet rippled gently and began to engulf him. He steadied himself abruptly, not drawing his sword, allowing the cause and effect to continue to break.
Realm Breaking is happening simultaneously. Everyone is dismantling their own foundation, their rules are being scattered, their cognition is being shattered, and they are like blank sheets of paper beginning to absorb.
Layers of "raw materials" flow beneath the paper, as if some kind of structure is waiting to be rewritten.
Suddenly—a muffled thud—a person Realm Breaking too forcefully, and the foundation of his Dao collapsed directly without restraint or control, causing his entire structure to instantly become unbalanced.
His body began to collapse, losing its internal support as his flesh caved in, his bones became disordered, and his Fate Soul Nucleus was exposed. The next instant, the white face sank in and swallowed him whole, disappearing from his body.
The other person stopped too early; he preserved too much of the foundation, the rules remained intact, and when he tried to put the "raw materials" onto the blank paper...
The remaining old structures rebounded directly, causing a wisp of air to adhere to his ankle and spread rapidly upwards; he tried to break free.
There was no time to completely smooth over the body. The remaining thirteen people all tensed up, and no one dared to rush or slack off.
The rhythm was stretched to its Limit, stripped away, preserved, stripped away again, stabilized again, with each step teetering on the brink of collapse.
Qin Yu stood still without making a move immediately. His mind was Ultimate quiet, with all the collapse and reconstruction of the outside world suppressed on the outermost layer.
The next instant—he raised his fingertip and gently tapped it. His internal Dao foundation did not explode or peel away, but began to "sink," sinking layer by layer.
The rules tighten and the structure compresses, forcibly pushing everything that has already taken shape back deeper and deeper until it reaches the very bottom.
At that moment, all external structures on his body disappeared; there was no outward aura, no fluctuation of power; only the purest existence remained.
Like an unwritten origin, the white surface beneath his feet trembled slightly. Instead of swallowing him, it gently supported the surrounding air currents, stopped, and went around them.
Qin Yu stood there, having already Realm Breaking; there was no shattering, no collapse, only the stability of returning to zero.
Thirteen figures on the white paper barely managed to stabilize the two who disappeared. Those who successfully Realm Breaking were preserved, while those who failed were erased.
The edges of the white paper were still undulating gently. The thirteen figures had just stood firm after Realm Breaking, and their auras had not yet fully returned. The Chaos Ink Master had already raised his pen.
The tip of the brush dipped, and the dark gray ink rapidly gathered upon it, condensing the light within the entire Wordless Heavenly Book Domain, while simultaneously dimming it. The next instant—the ink fell.
A dark band of light, several meters wide, poured down from the sky like a black river that stretched across the heavens and earth. It crashed into the paper from nothingness, and wherever it passed, the white surface trembled violently, instantly covering all the newly formed layers of raw materials.
The top cultivator will be the first to be affected.
The nascent universe beneath his feet was not yet fully stable, and the outlines of the mountains and rivers had just begun to appear. The moment the ink ribbon fell, the entire structure was directly soaked through. The outlines of the mountains quickly faded, and the spiritual veins disappeared inch by inch, like lines washed away by water.
He roared and pressed his hands down forcefully, drawing back the fire from beneath his feet, igniting the entire area in blazing crimson flames.
The flames surged up the ink band, colliding violently. Large swaths of black ink were vaporized into gray mist, but the flames also dimmed rapidly. He was jolted back a step, and the white surface beneath his feet suddenly sank, its edges beginning to blur.
He gritted his teeth and held on as the flames erupted again, forcibly resisting the downward pressure of the Ink River on the other side. The female cultivator who stood on the spirit wood frame suddenly clasped her hands together.
Countless blue and white light threads burst forth from her body, causing the branches and leaves to grow rapidly.
The entire spiritual wood structure exploded around her, forming a massive tree shadow structure. Roots frantically burrowed deep into the paper, and branches intertwined, layer upon layer, blocking the view above.
As the ink ribbon fell, the branches and leaves were crushed layer by layer, and the wood chips scattered. Each fragment brought out a ray of light, and in the next instant, new branches and leaves sprouted again.
Her face turned pale instantly, blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and she held on tightly with both hands. The shadow of the tree barely maintained its shape amidst the violent shaking, and the dark color was pushed apart inch by inch.
A swordsman stepped forward, his longsword flashing with light. He slashed out, the sword leaving a straight tear on the white paper. The ink ribbon was separated the moment it hit the tear.
Black ink swirled on both sides, and a sudden chill erupted beneath his feet.
The ice layer expanded to both sides along the crack, quickly freezing the flowing ink, turning the entire area into a frozen interface. The ink was trapped inside and struggled incessantly, the ice layer constantly cracking and reforming.
His body trembled, his sword shook, but he did not retreat. The other man clasped his hands together, and the phantom of an ancient bell suddenly appeared behind him. The sound of the bell exploded, and rings of sound waves spread outward.
The moment the ink ribbon pressed down, it was blocked by the sound waves. The black ink vibrated and the sound waves shattered layer by layer, and new sound waves erupted again, filling the entire space with a deep rumble.
He was bent over by the pressure, but he held on tightly to withstand the impact. The ink ribbon continued to press down, and countless tiny ink threads extended out from it.
Like living things, it scattered and wandered around. A cultivator couldn't dodge in time, and the black threads wrapped around his arm. The gray-black aura spread rapidly, and his skin began to become transparent.
As his skeletal outline emerged, he suddenly roared, reversing the Dao foundation within his body. A surge of violent energy exploded from his core, shattering his entire arm and scattering light fragments. The broken parts rapidly reformed.
He staggered backward, his aura dropping drastically, but he broke free from that wisp of ink. The entire Realm Breaking zone erupted in flames, the shadows of trees trembled, and sword marks crisscrossed the area.
The sound waves echoed as every nascent form of the universe resisted frantically, the white paper undulating violently, the void at the edges being pushed back only to be pressed down again.
Qin Yu in the center as the black ribbon fell directly towards his area. He neither retreated nor unleashed a burst of power; he simply raised his hand and slightly turned his palm.
Deep within the sea of consciousness, a dormant structure unfolds in an instant: Heavenly Cause Judgment Sequence - Six Severances Seal - Fate Cause Sealing Mirror - Logic Abyss Core.
The next instant, the space in front of him cracked open with countless mirrors simultaneously unfolding their structure. The ink ribbon fell into the mirrors and was instantly broken into countless segments.
Each segment was locked and suspended, unable to continue pressing down and rotating the mirror core, and the decomposed ink essence began to disintegrate one by one.
However, more ink threads came from the side and directly stuck to his body. Qin Yu's fingertips twitched slightly, and the Master Book Seal Severance Naming Reconstruction, was launched at the same time.
Behind him, in the void, a scroll of star books slowly turned its pages. The ink threads had just touched his boundary when they immediately lost their continuity and scattered.
Like an ink ribbon stripped of its definition, Qin Yu pressed down again with his other hand Orbital Collapse Lock- Chain Annihilation to erupt, and dark gold chains to fall from the void.
It instantly penetrated the core of the ink band, locking and tightening it. The entire ink band vibrated violently and then broke in the next instant, scattering the black ink into countless tiny specks of light.
Shattered simultaneously by the mirror and chains, Qin Yu's feet trembled slightly as he regained his footing and took a half-step back.
The entire area reached its Limit at this moment, with all thirteen people pinned to the boundary, each one burning themselves.
Every inch of space was vibrating. The impact of the ink ribbon finally began to weaken. The gray-black light gradually dispersed and the ink flowed back. The Chaos Ink Master slowly put down his brush.
As the first strike ended, all thirteen figures on the white paper stopped, their auras disordered Fate Soul trembling, yet none of them disappeared; they all withstood the blow.