Yun Lintian’s pupils constricted.
He seemed to finally find an answer why the Gate of Beyond Heaven wouldn’t open... It was because the connection from the other side was alreadly gone.
He raised his free hand. Golden light swirled as he attempted to summon the gate—the pathway to his home.
The space remained empty.
Mo Ling’s laughter turned manic. "I told you! They’re DEAD! Your precious Yun Qianxue? Lin Xinyao? All wiped from existence!"
Yun Lintian’s blade trembled.
For the first time in centuries—perhaps the first time ever—true rage burned through him. Not the controlled fury of battle, but something primal. Something terrifying.
The sky darkened. The earth quaked.
Mo Ling kept laughing, even as his body crumbled. "This was never about beating you in a fight, you fool! It was about making you suffer! Nian Shi knew—the only way to break the Seed of Fate was to destroy everything it cared about!"
His laughter turned to coughs, black ichor spraying from his lips. "And it WORKED! Look at you! The mighty Yun Lintian, powerless to save his own—"
Yun Lintian’s fist smashed into Mo Ling’s face, shattering bone. Black blood sprayed across the broken earth.
"Hahaha! Is this all you’ve got?" His voice was a wet, broken rasp, yet his hollow eyes gleamed with triumph. "Beat me all you want. It won’t bring them back!"
Yun Lintian didn’t stop.
His fists fell like meteors—punch after punch, each strike carrying the weight of his grief, his rage, his denial.
Mo Ling’s ribs caved in.
Yet still, he laughed.
"You think mastering the Seed of Time matters now?" Mo Ling spat blood, his words slurred but mocking. "Nian Shi didn’t just kill them—he erased the entire timeline! There’s nothing left to rewind!"
Yun Lintian’s breath came in ragged gasps. His knuckles were raw, his hands slick with black blood, but he couldn’t stop.
"Liar!" he roared, his voice raw with fury. "LIAR!"
Another punch. Another crack of bone.
Mo Ling’s body was a broken ruin, yet his laughter only grew louder.
"Deny it all you want," he wheezed. "But you felt it, didn’t you? The moment the Gate refused to open? That emptiness?"
Yun Lintian froze mid-strike, his fist trembling.
Mo Ling grinned through broken teeth. "That’s the sound of your world ending."
Yun Lintian grabbed Mo Ling by the throat and slammed him into the ground. The earth split beneath them, fissures spiderwebbing outward.
"Bring them back," Yun Lintian snarled, his voice trembling. He seemed to lose all rationale. "You’re the God of Death. You can reverse this."
Mo Ling’s laughter turned into a choked gasp, but his eyes remained defiant.
"Even if I could... why would I?"
Yun Lintian’s grip tightened. "I’ll destroy you."
Mo Ling’s grin widened. "Too late. You already did."
His body began dissolving—not from Yun Lintian’s attack, but by his own will. Ash flaked from his skin, his form unraveling into nothingness.
"No... NO!" Yun Lintian’s hands clawed at the dissipating figure, but there was nothing left to grasp.
Mo Ling’s voice echoed one last time, faint and taunting:
"Welcome... to your hell."
Yun Lintian knelt in the ruins, his hands empty, his breathing ragged. The weight of Mo Ling’s words pressed down on him like a collapsing star.
His wives. His family. His home.
All of it—wiped from existence.
Behind him, Long Qingxuan stood frozen, her hands pressed to her mouth. Tears streamed down her face, but she made no sound. She knew—better than anyone—what Yun Qianxue, Lin Xinyao, and the others meant to Yun Lintian.
And now... they were lost.
"No..." Yun Lintian whispered.
His scream tore through the void, raw and anguished. The heavens trembled. The earth shattered. His aura erupted uncontrollably—Creation and Destruction spiraling into chaos.
He was no longer the composed, untouchable Yun Lintian.
A man who had lost everything.
The world stood still.
Yun Lintian knelt in the ruins, his hands covered in black blood that wasn’t his own. His breathing came in ragged gasps, his golden and dark eyes dull like extinguished stars. The Heaven Sunderer lay forgotten beside him, its glow dimmed.
A soft voice. Long Qingxuan approached cautiously, her silver hair fluttering in the chaotic winds of his unstable aura. Her draconic eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she reached out.
Her fingers barely brushed his shoulder when—
A shockwave of uncontrolled power blasted outward, forcing her back several steps. The ground beneath Yun Lintian cracked further, fissures spreading like spiderwebs.
Linlin rushed forward, her tiger-eyes wide with worry. "Big Brother Yun!"
Qingqing, usually silent, clutched at his sleeve with trembling hands. "Big Brother Yun... please..."
But Yun Lintian didn’t hear them.
His mind was drowning—drowning in memories.
Yun Qianxue’s gentle smile as she poured tea in their courtyard.
Lin Xinyao’s playful chuckle when she won another bet against him.
The sound of laughter echoing through the villa inside the Land of Beyond Heaven.
Everything was gone...
Long Qingxuan bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Then, ignoring the dangerous fluctuations of his aura, she stepped forward again and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face against his back.
"There has to be a way," she whispered, her voice breaking. "We’ll find it. Together."
Her tears soaked into his torn robes.
Yun Lintian didn’t react.
His hands clenched into fists, nails drawing blood from his palms.
The words were barely audible, but they carried the weight of a collapsing world.
Long Chen, Qian Jinglei, and Yue Zhihe stood frozen nearby, unsure what to do. They didn’t understand the full context—who Nian Shi was, why this Abyssal Ghost Knight had targeted Yun Lintian’s loved ones.
But they understood one thing:
Yun Lintian’s wives had been killed.
And the strongest man they knew had been broken by it.
"Senior... I’m sorry. It was my fault," Long Chen finally spoke up. "If we didn’t fall into the Abyssal Ghost Knight’s hands, perhaps it wouldn’t have ended ."
Qian Jinglei raised her hand to stop her disciple and shook her head, indicating that he should stop talking.
Long Chen opened his mouth and went silent.
On the side, Yue Zhihe pursed her lips and said nothing. Although she had just followed Yun Lintian not long ago, she genuinely cared for him. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to even comfort him in this situation...