As Qin Yu stepped out from the Plane of Hongmeng, the entire hall seemed to be gently moved by an invisible hand. The spatial textures rearranged almost imperceptibly. Although no one saw any unusual phenomena, they all felt an indescribable sense of weightlessness, as if the "place" they stood on had been redefined the moment Qin Yu appeared.
Chi Ninghua's gaze immediately locked onto him, a flicker of barely suppressed amazement and shock crossing her eyes. Then, a highly secretive voice transmission pierced through the crowd, softly resounding in Qin Yu's mind. "Congratulations, Young Master Qin, you have comprehended the Primordial Mystic Void and achieved the pinnacle of the Supreme Void. This step... is enough to make countless ages pale in comparison."
Qin Yu remained calm, his gaze slightly turned to the side as if he were merely glancing casually at the distant void, yet his voice had already settled in her heart. "Thank you for your kind words, senior. I have only glimpsed a sliver of the origin's outline; the road ahead is still long."
Chi Ninghua slightly, a smile now tinged with genuine approval. Just as she was about to speak again, her senses suddenly jolted. Her gaze swept subtly across the crowd, and her tone tightened abruptly. "Young Master Qin... something's not right."
Qin Yu's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly for a moment. "I noticed it too."
She continued telepathically, her tone tinged with seriousness. "That Fate Soul aura... it doesn't resemble that of a cultivator. It shows no signs of cultivation, nor is it imbued with any principles of law. It's more like... some kind of origin directly manifesting."
Qin Yu did not respond immediately. His gaze had already fallen on the elegant man not far away. The man stood in the crowd, his aura was as gentle as ever, his demeanor was calm, and he did not even reveal a trace of sharpness. But it was precisely because of this that his "perfect ordinariness" seemed particularly dazzling.
"If my senses are correct, it should be him." Qin Yu's voice was calm and low. "His existence has no reference point."
Chi Ninghua slightly turned her head, seemingly only glancing at the man unintentionally. However, the instant that glance fell, a subtle tearing sensation suddenly arose deep within her Fate Soul, as if some extremely ancient rule had briefly shifted within her consciousness. Her heart jolted, but she forcibly maintained her composure, only whispering in her heart, "... Yes... it's him."
Her tone became more cautious. "Young Master Qin, we must be careful." Qin Yu nodded slightly and said nothing more.
At that very moment, the suspended Rubik's Cube in the center of the hall suddenly trembled.
Beyond the superficial vibrations and tremors, the entire structure of the artifact is subtly displaced in a hidden dimension inaccessible to ordinary people.
Each edge of the Rubik's Cube slowly moves and slides, disassembling countless layers of space at this moment, and then mysteriously rejoining them.
The intricate runes on the surface peeled off layer by layer, drifting into the void, and then, following the trajectory of the Great Dao, evolved and recombined on their own, condensing into a three-dimensional legal barrier that covered the entire hall.
The next instant, the Rubik's Cube's core was fully activated. There was no explosion, no burst of light, only a moment of stillness.
That stillness overwhelmed all sound, all thought, all fluctuation, as if the whole world had been briefly dragged into some deeper silence.
And in this absolute stillness, the Silent Void Sword moved; the blade was not drawn from its sheath, yet it split apart at that moment.
Without any sign of collapse or damage, only the original source differentiated itself. The twelve sword shadows quietly separated from the sword body, their shapes and outlines completely identical, but the original aura they carried was completely different. It was as if they Source Dao foundation, and countless projections derived from the thousands of original dimensions.
They did not fly, nor did they have a trajectory; they simply "appeared" on the corresponding twelve faces. Boom—in that instant, the space of the hall completely lost its stability.
Twelve sides lit up simultaneously. On the Face of Thoughts, myriad thoughts surged like a reversed galaxy, and billions of consciousnesses flowed like the awakening of the universe, with the structure of thought manifesting as visible trajectories. On the Face of Skills, a torrent of techniques surged into the sky, and the birth and disintegration of each supernatural power cycled and replayed in the air.
On the Face of Karma, countless luminous threads intertwine to form an endless network, where the slightest fluctuation affects countless outcomes; on the Face of Souls, the eerie light is as deep as an abyss, within which billions of souls rise and fall; on the Plane of Spirit Sources, the root of energy wriggles and reorganizes like a living thing.
On the Face of Dimensions, layers upon layers unfold, like countless worlds overlapping and misaligning with each other; on the Face of Narrative, the past and future are written and erased at the same moment; on the Face of Observation, countless gazes descend from unseen places.
On the Face of History, time unfolds like a scroll; on the Face of the Root of Existence, all definitions collapse and are rebuilt; on the Face of Chaos, things surge like a boundless sea; and on the Plane of Hongmeng, things slowly unfold in the deepest part, like the breath of the universe in the instant before its birth.
Twelve Silent Void Sword were placed on the twelve sides respectively. The swords did not move, but the entire magic array began to operate.
An invisible wave converged on the center from all twelve sides, then swept outwards from the center in all directions. At this moment, the Fate Soul of all the cultivators present were forcibly drawn in, as if each person was being dragged into an impending "choice".
The oppressive atmosphere suddenly intensified. Some people turned pale instantly, some trembled Fate Soul, and some even instinctively took a step back, only to find that the space beneath their feet no longer allowed them to retreat.
The aura of the Silent Void Sword began to envelop the entire area; it wasn't oppressive force, but a higher level of "stillness."
It's as if everything that tries to function needs to obtain "permission" before it can function.
The next moment, someone moved. A cultivator suddenly drew his sword, the sword light exploding like thunder, seemingly trying to seize one of the swords first. Immediately afterward, several other auras erupted at the same time, divine artifacts and supreme treasures appearing in their hands, their light intertwined, and killing intent surging beneath the surface.
In the blink of an eye, the entire hall went from a silent place of enlightenment to Threshold- explosive power, and everyone realized one thing.
The Silent Void Sword is no longer just something to be admired; it is selecting and waiting.
Before the aftershocks of the Rubik's Cube's tremor had subsided, the twelve Silent Void Sword suddenly trembled slightly at the same time. There was no sword cry at that moment, but a deeper sense of "rupture" emerged in everyone's hearts at the same time, as if some originally coherent whole had been cut apart from the most basic logic.
The next moment, the entire hall suddenly collapsed and disintegrated. There was no chaotic scene of sudden destruction, only the self-decomposition at the primordial level.
The space was cleaved open from within by countless invisible sharp edges, and fine, pure white cracks spread rapidly from the center of the Rubik's Cube outwards in all directions. Wherever the cracks passed, the palace walls, the ground, and the dome were all incorporated into the new rules, transforming into different levels of architectural structure.
The originally stable and constant continuous space was instantly split into countless independent interfaces, completely severing the foundation for maintaining connection between them.
Light was stretched into threads, and sound was torn into fragments.
Time flows at different speeds in different regions; in some regions it flows like solidified amber, while in others it accelerates a thousandfold or even ten thousandfold. Some regions even break free from the constraints of time altogether, becoming indescribable "stagnant fragments."
That moment was like the world being disassembled into twelve puzzle pieces, each of which was operating independently.
In an instant, all twelve sides fully unfolded, no longer just a projection of the Rubik's Cube, but a "real arrival".
An indescribable wave of law exploded from the center, transforming into twelve distinct domains that forcibly divided the entire hall.
At that moment, all the cultivators didn't even have time to react; their bodies didn't move, yet they were already "categorized into different definitions."
Qin Yu felt a slight sinking under his feet. He didn't struggle or try to resist, because he had already seen that it wasn't space that was changing.
The outcome of "which side he belongs to" has already been predetermined; in the next instant, the area he is in suddenly collapses and expands.
A new "surface" has taken shape, a completely bizarre realm.
Without a fixed direction or clear boundaries, it felt as if one were stepping on solid ground, yet also suspended in some undefined dimension. Countless translucent symbols constantly emerged in the surrounding air—symbols that were not words, but were more essential than words. Each symbol was constantly changing its meaning, as if trying to "become something."
Qin Yu stopped, Chi Ninghua was already three zhang away to his side. Her breathing was steady, but it was obviously restrained to the Ultimate, and her eyes were more solemn than ever before.
Further away, dozens of elders from the Shangguan Lineage were also included in this category.
Their figures appeared slightly blurred in this area, as if their "existence" was being constantly corrected. Some of their figures began to show slight misalignment at the edges, as if they might slip down from their current level at any moment.
This aspect is called: The Root of Existence.
At the same time, another boundary suddenly split open in the space to their side, and another plane superimposed on it.
That was "the name itself," countless unrecognizable syllables echoing in the void, yet without sound. Those syllables seemed to be trying to call out to something, but could never find an object. Every fluctuation forced the person who entered to reconfirm "who they are."
The next instant, the third layer descended: chaos.
The entire space suddenly became heavy, as if endless unformed things were churning within it. Rules were not defined, structures were not established, and everything was in a state of "about to be generated but Unborn." Every step taken could lead into a logical gap that was not yet allowed to exist.
The three sides overlapped, forming an extremely dangerous area where Qin Yu, Chi Ninghua, and the rest of the Shangguan Lineage were simultaneously locked in.
On the other side of the main hall, the space also underwent a dramatic change: the Plane of Hongmeng unfolded, the Face of History was laid out, and the Face of Existence descended.
In that region, light and darkness are no longer in opposition; time is stretched into an infinitely long scroll, with countless historical fragments overlapping and cycling within it. Each fragment is incredibly real, yet they conflict with each other, as if all the things that "once happened" have been forcibly compressed into the same moment.
Ju Wanning stood there, her face instantly turning pale, because she realized that she was simultaneously "experiencing" countless possible pasts.
Not far from her, the elegant man stood quietly, his robes unmoved, his expression unchanged, and even his aura remained completely still.
Yet, in this area that should have been the most chaotic, he appeared remarkably "stable," so stable that... he seemed to defy the logic of this place. Hua Lineage and dozens of cultivators were also trapped here.
Their expressions showed obvious confusion; some began to mutter to themselves, while others tried to use supernatural powers to stabilize their existence, only to find that the spell was rewritten by "history" the moment it was unleashed.
The man merely raised his eyes slightly, his gaze sweeping over his surroundings as if confirming something.
The remaining cultivators were dispersed to other planes, Face of Thoughts, where some fell into madness, their consciousness amplified infinitely.
On the Face of Karma, some are dragged into an inescapable cycle by their own past; on the Face of Souls, some have their soul light torn into countless fragments.
In Face of Dimensions, some people are compressed into a single line, only to unfold into countless layers in the next instant; in Face of Narrative, some people lose the "meaning of their actions," and their actions become fruitless.
The entire main hall no longer exists; in its place are twelve independent worlds that are nested within each other on a higher level.
The twelve sword shadows of the Silent Void Sword hung in the center of each side, and no one dared to make any rash moves.