The moment the sword fell, the entire Dao itself did not explode or tremble; instead, it became almost absolutely still.
Countless interwoven Dao Path and trails are frozen in a single instant. The flow of time is compressed into a single line, silently suspended in the vast emptiness.
The spatial framework extends into a thin, transparent curtain, severing the continuity of cause and effect, hanging and breaking in sections. All vitality for existence and evolution in the world is silenced, and all opportunities for future development are annihilated.
Qin Yu's consciousness plunged into that initial source. He no longer possessed any "Dao" to rely on, nor could he maintain the structure of a cultivator. His form of existence was reduced to its Limit, leaving only that undefined "starting point."
That sword strike originated from this point; it had no trajectory, no speed, and no fluctuation of power, yet it pierced directly through the core of the entire Great Dao itself.
The next instant, change erupted. All the frozen trajectories collapsed simultaneously, like countless transparent rivers being severed by a single stroke. At the break, there were no fragments, only disappearance. The lines of time snapped inch by inch, the supporting layers of space collapsed layer by layer, and the nodes of cause and effect extinguished one after another.
The entire avenue seemed to be torn apart from the inside by an invisible hand. The tearing was silent, yet it occurred simultaneously on all levels. Light could not propagate, darkness could not spread, and even the concept of "change" was pushed to its Limit in an instant.
The Shadow of the Great Dao stood at the core, its body, composed of countless runes, began to crack. Each rune collapsed independently, and the originally stable structure lost its connection. The entire existence was severed from its very source by that sword.
It did not retaliate or struggle; it simply stood there quietly, and then, starting from its core, it gradually dissipated, all the Dao order that composed it returning to nothingness, until even the trace of its "existence" was erased.
At the same time, Qin Yu's existence was also on the verge of collapse.
All the principles within him had been severed, his Core of the Fate Soul had almost completely lost its structure, and all the support points of his Mystic Void Realm had been broken. His consciousness was floating in the boundless void, without direction, without support, and without the confirmation of "I". That sword not only severed the Shadow of the Great Dao, but also severed everything he relied on to stand.
Just at the Threshold point of complete collapse, an extremely faint fluctuation emerged from the void.
That is not the Way, not the Law, not a state of being; it is the beginning of "not yet becoming anything".
With a slight tremor, all that was about to collapse was drawn back together. The Core of the Fate Soul re-condensed in the unstructured state. The Profound Mystic Void Realm no longer relied on any established laws, but instead unfolded anew with that point of "beginning" as its core.
Qin Yu's consciousness was pulled back from the brink of complete dissipation. He no longer relied on "what he had gained through cultivation" as his support, but instead re-established himself in an "undefined" state.
The entire Dao itself collapsed completely at this moment.
Countless Trace Vanishing, the core returned to emptiness, and the structure that originally contained everything disappeared completely in a few breaths, as if it had never existed. The true space of the hall reappeared, the ground, the dome, and the array patterns returned to their original positions, the air resumed its flow, and all the strange phenomena subsided.
Qin Yu stood still, his robes fluttering without wind, his aura no longer emanating outwards, yet carrying a completely different kind of tranquility. He slowly opened his eyes, the sharpness in his gaze gone, replaced by an unfathomable clarity.
The white-haired old man stood outside the formation, watching everything unfold without ever making a move.
He nodded slightly. "Good. We've finally found one!" His voice was very soft, yet it carried a heartfelt sense of approval.
He looked at Qin Yu, and for the first time, obvious approval appeared in his eyes.
"To be able to preserve that last bit of your origin amidst the severing of the Dao, and to be able to rebuild yourself with it, means you are no longer merely 'walking the Dao'."
"You have begun to touch upon the realm Unborn." Qin Yu slightly clasped his hands in a fist salute, his voice steady. "This junior has merely survived by the skin of his teeth."
The old man chuckled softly. "The danger you walked into yourself. The survival you retrieved yourself."
He slowly turned around, his gaze fixed on something deeper within. "Next, you are not far from inheriting your master's legacy."
As soon as the words fell, the last trace of the Great Dao Formation vanished completely, and even the trace of the formation gate disappeared, as if this level of assessment had never existed.
Deep within the main hall, an even more vast aura slowly unfolded, revealing the Light of All Things and the Domain of Origin simultaneously.
The space ahead cracked open, revealing a layered region where everything flowed and the aura of origin permeated the air. Countless unformed structures were being nurtured within it. This was not the suppression of an array, but a higher-level realm of existence.
Qin Yu didn't linger. He took a step forward, his figure directly entering it, and a new level unfolded beneath his feet.
The moment Qin Yu stepped into that layer of light array, there was nothing beneath his feet to support him. The main hall, the space, and the array patterns rapidly receded behind him, slowly dissipating like a shell being ripped away, replaced by a completely unclassifiable domain.
There is no up or down, no front or back, no reference point for positioning; only a gigantic compass silently floats in the unknowable depths.
The compass is pieced together from countless fragments, each presenting a different "world." Some fragments depict ancient battlefields engulfed in war, others show tranquil, ordinary towns, and still others present completely abstract structures of light and shadow, defying any form of cognition.
Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine fragments are slowly rotating. With each rotation, there is an extremely subtle but undeniable change. The center of gravity of all the "narratives" is shifting, yet simultaneously dissipating.
That wasn't the oppression of the formation; it was the "story itself" being stripped away.
Qin Yu stood on the compass, his figure magnified infinitely, yet simultaneously becoming extremely small, as if he existed within all the fragments at the same time, yet belonged to none of them. As the compass rotated, an invisible force began to spread around, without fluctuation or sound, yet directly affecting "meaning" itself.
The first layer of change quietly descended, and everything around began to lose its "narrative connection." The scenes in those fragments were still running, but no longer constituted any coherent development. The cultivators on the battlefield swung their swords but had no result, and the pedestrians in the small town walked without going anywhere. All actions became isolated fragments.
Within the entire array, there was no beginning and no end; everything was simply happening without any reason. Then, the second layer began to infiltrate.
All the tracks on the compass gradually became balanced. The ones that had previously shone brightly among the fragments began to dim, while those that were inconspicuous stood in the same position. There was no favoritism, no tilting. At this moment, all paths were compressed to the same probability, and all "inevitability" was broken down into pure possibility.
The space around Qin Yu shifted once more, his shadow appearing in different fragments. Some shadows stood, some fell, some vanished, and some were never even born. These shadows existed simultaneously, without interfering with each other. None was deemed "real," nor was any categorized as "false."
The third layer of structure unfolds, with invisible lines extending from the compass and connecting to the entities within the fragments. These lines, which originally represented identity, bloodline, inheritance, and power, are now slowly loosening. The once powerful structures of some entities begin to be reduced to their most basic components, and the complex "definitions" are gradually dismantled, returning to their most primitive arrangement.
Subtle collapses began to appear in the air, not the collapse of matter, but the "collapse of meaning"—the fourth layer had arrived.
The sounds began to lose their direction; the cries emanating from some fragments no longer corresponded to any individual; some beings opened their mouths, but no "name" could be uttered; all titles became blurred at this moment, as if covered by a layer of chaos. Those markers that could originally anchor existence gradually dispersed.
At the center of the compass, a black stone tablet slowly emerged. The tablet was devoid of light, patterns, and aura; only eight characters hung there silently.
"No man's land, silent desolation."
The space around the stone tablet fell into complete silence. Everything that approached was silently stripped of its right to be "defined." There was no suppression, no restraint, only one direct result: they were no longer recognized as any form of existence.
At the same time, countless blurry figures appeared at the edge of the array.
Those figures had no faces, no aura, no cultivation, and nothing special about them. They stood, walked, and stayed still, their actions simple and repetitive, like life trajectories without any fluctuations. They did not interact with any being, nor were they noticed by any being.
They simply exist, or rather, are merely permitted to exist; the entire array field unfolds completely at this moment.
The Myriad Origins Compass slowly rotates, and countless worlds within the fragments operate and collapse simultaneously. The stone tablet stands silently in the center, all narrative dimensions are flattened, all possibilities are pulled back to the same level, and all "focused attention" begins to dissipate.
There is no oppression, no murderous intent here, yet all "special" beings seem superfluous.
The aura of the entire formation no longer spread outwards, but instead converged inwards, gathering into that unnamed silence.
Qin Yu stood within it, untouched by any force, yet it was as if the entire array was redefining "existence" itself. Simultaneously, a voice entered Qin Yu's mind—
All things return to their source, and the source returns to stillness. Names cannot be named, existence cannot be preserved. When light enters this array, light becomes dust. When the master enters this array, the master becomes nothingness. There is no master or guest, no beginning or end. Through countless ages, the flow of time has turned into Eternal Silence.