Amid the intense soul-wrenching pain, Yang Qiu began to hallucinate.
In the foul-slling fishing port of a poor seaside town, a man standing by a rundown wooden boat looked at Yang Qiu in surprise.
The man smiled at him ingratiatingly. After exchanging a few pleasantries between strangers, he made an excuse and left, running into town without looking back.
He had discovered a wanted criminal worth 90,000 gold coins and was rushing back to inform the sheriff.
When Yang Qiu left the town, the fisherman, who had toiled for his family for more than a decade, was hanged on a rack drying fishnets with his arms and legs broken.
He hadn't really done anything wrong; he just wanted to get rich. So, Yang Qiu didn't make things difficult for him but he did cause the sheriff to hang out in the cold wind all night, and the sheriff certainly wouldn't let the poor fisherman off for that.
The man in the hallucination stared at Yang Qiu while taking his last breath. There was no hatred in his eyes, only pleading.
Yang Qiu rembered this pleading gaze for many years.
The vision of the poor fisherman dissipated, and what appeared in front of Yang Qiu was a large group of people.
A large group of people, skin and bones, dressed only in tattered rags. Their faces were blurry.
Yang Qiu stared at this group of people for a long ti and slowly recalled, Ah, it's you people.
Refugees.
Natural disasters were frequent in the Navalon continent, but there were no aid groups in this world.
Refugees who could not survive and had no choice but to flee were regarded by municipalities as troubleso hot potatoes.
Yang Qiu did not know where this group of people ca from. He only rembered that he had co across this group of people when he was fleeing from the holy land of the Radiant Sun Church.
With pursuers hot on his heels, Yang Qiu couldn't stay.
Even though he knew that this group of refugees, struggling to survive the harsh winter, had no chance of being accepted by the Holy Land. They would be driven away, pushed into the desolate wilderness, and quietly die in a place where no one could see he didn't do anything but glance at this group of refugees before hastily leaving.
I haven't forgotten you all How could I? Not far from these refugees, a magic steam train roared past.
The phantoms of the refugees disappeared like popping bubbles, replaced by the images of another group of people.
Yang Qiu looked at these phantoms that lingered deep in his soul, his inner turmoil gradually calming.
He knew very well that these images were his inner demons, manifestations of his own powerlessness, of the guilt and regret etched into his soul.
He had never wanted to forget these things. When he saw them again, he didn't feel embarrassed; he just understood himself on a deeper level.
Over the course of three hundred years, he had co to terms with his own powerlessness many tis. It was an objective fact, and there was no need to disguise or romanticize it.
After a long ti, Yang Qiu revealed a faint smile. "I see you I rember you.
"Forever."
The magic swirling around Yang Qiu suddenly surged upward.
This active, boiling magical power instantly attracted the dormant magical power within a kiloter radius. From inside and outside the forest, countless magical powers flowed toward him, coalescing and converging to gradually form a magical vortex.
Even the Holy Land's prophets, who held sealing artifacts, avoided this contaminated magical power, which swirled, boiled, intermingled, and solidified over the course of about ten minutes, becoming a visible irregular crystal.
Yang Qiu looked up at the massive translucent magical crystal, and with a push from the ground, he stood up.
The gigantic irregular crystal floated in midair, rotating slowly, enveloping Yang Qiu in a radiant glow.
Several kiloters away, in the Sorenson Mountains, rcenaries guarding a caravan from the southern continent passing through a "safe passage" watched in amazent. They saw a dazzling light emanating from the mountaintop, and their eyes widened in shock.
"That Is that a Gate of Ascension?"
"Could soone have co all the way to the Sorenson Mountains to advance?"
"Oh gods, with such a massive Gate of Ascension, could it be that soone is ascending to the fabled level?!"
The rcenaries marveled at the sight but soon realized the potential danger. The captain quickly urged them, "Don't just stand there! Let's hurry! A Gate of Ascension at such a level is not sothing to be taken lightly. If the person who triggered it loses control, it will be a big problem!" Upon hearing the captain's words, the rcenaries picked up their pace, leaving behind the spectacular Gate of Ascension.
The "Gate of Ascension" was not a literal gate but a beam of light. Those enveloped by the light would prefer to call it a "Gate."
For those who sought to transcend their current state, whether they were spellcasters or professional individuals, crossing the "Gate of Ascension" was a necessary step.
The "Gate of Ascension" was not a door to another place but a path to transcendence.
The mont Yang Qiu entered the "Gate," he found himself in a vast, white, ethereal world.
Behind the "Gate" was sothing like a void, yet not quite a void.
The void was the end of nothingness, the location of all fears, and the ultimate destination of all annihilation.
Beyond the "Gate" lay order, rules, and the scrutiny and trials of dinsional laws.
As Yang Qiu erged from the disorientation of entering the "Gate," he felt the familiar, suffocating pressure as if he had been subrged in a deep sea.
This feeling was dreadful; the air seed thick like a liquid, making it difficult to breathe. It wasn't just a physical burden; ntally and spiritually, it felt as though invisible hands were pressing down on him, as if they intended to push him into the ground, crushing his spirit and will entirely.
This wasn't so deity's sadistic whim; it was simply the pressure exerted by the dinsional laws beyond the "Gate," an unconscious imposition of its authority.
Yang Qiu, who had been here twice, naturally wasn't too fazed by this level of pressure. After adapting to the environnt beyond the "Gate," Yang Qiu raised his head and looked at the sky.
Above him was a massive, cold, and pale pupil.
"Eye of Truth," Yang Qiu called out its real na.
The pale and colorless pupil turned to Yang Qiu.
Dinsional laws were not sentient beings; they lacked consciousness and emotions. When a living being invoked its true na lightly through the "Gate," it would grant them a completely impartial baptism.
A surging energy descended from the pale pupil and gushed toward Yang Qiu.
Yang Qiu spread his arms and calmly accepted the impact.
The power bestowed by the Eye of Truth during this baptism depended on the scale of the "Gate" crossed by the living being.
This could be considered the fairest treatnt for the living beings in this magical realm, apart from death. It was also the only ladder to heaven that those born in unfavorable circumstances could rely on.
However, the power in this world was toxic. Even the Eye of Truth, representing the dinsional laws, bestowed a poisonous baptism despite its impartiality.
The mont he was struck by the power, Yang Qiu's entire body trembled violently, and even his consciousness started to blur.
An indescribable flow of information surged through every inch of his nerves, and each second felt excruciatingly long, driving him to the brink of madness.
While struggling against the torrential baptism of power, the hallucinations that had disappeared not long ago resurfaced.
Moreover, they were stronger and clearer than when Yang Qiu had used the special environnt of the Sorenson Mountains to pre-enact the baptism.
Yang Qiu convulsed, blood streaming from his nose and mouth, his vision spinning.
The images of the refugees he had once abandoned to their fate almost solidified on his retinas. He vividly saw the lifeless gaze of those frail faces, how they had beco numb.
As he enforced his idea of justice in a crude and brutal manner, the very people he wanted to helpthose refugeesfeared and loathed him more than the individuals he was targeting.
He began to tremble, his body and soul shaken to the core.
His mind descended into chaos.
Regretful tears mingled with the taste of blood in his mouth.
In his daze, a lody suddenly echoed in his mind.
In monts of confusion and exhaustion, this lody had pulled him out of desolation countless tis, urging him to keep moving forward.
"Run forward, facing cold stares and mockery
"The vastness of life cannot be felt without enduring hardships
"Fate cannot make us kneel, even if our arms are covered in blood"
Yang Qiu opened his bloodshot eyes, gasping for breath as he spat out the blood in his mouth.
His nerves, soul, and body felt like they were being ruthlessly washed away by a turbulent, razor-sharp torrent. The pain was almost unbearable.
But his mind was clear now.
The lody he was so familiar with, the one he had loved even before his journey through ti, carried all his longing for his holand throughout the three hundred long years. It had already seeped into his very bones.
Now, it was instinctively awakened from within his bones, surging out and nourishing his will and spirit.
"The brilliance of life cannot be seen without persisting to the end
"Instead of lingering and gasping for breath, embrace it with all your heart. For the sake of the beauty in your heart, never compromise until you grow old
"I, an old man, will never compromise!"
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