Chapter 329

All cultivation beings across the Void Demon Realm and other alternate worlds, gazing upon the countless interwoven threads, felt as if they had glimpsed the truth of existence, as if all things in the world were laid bare before them.

The gods and demons were stunned; the immortals rejoiced wildly—the centuries-old, unbreakable barriers of their cultivation realms trembled, for the interwoven patterns revealed by the flames granted them enlightenment.

Amid countless gazes, the two supreme beings burning everything lifted their heads to gaze upon the great Dao forged from the interweaving.

This was their deduction's result.

It was about to appear—His true visage, His entirety.

The next instant.

Like cloth being torn, the billions upon billions of Dao, principles, and laws woven together ripped apart with a sharp tearing sound, as if a secret gate had burst open.

Within it emerged a pair of eyes.

Without exception—whether the River of Time, the heavens and times within each River of Time, or even the Primordial Battlefield—all froze as if paused, a moment of suffocating stillness.

It was a pair of eyes beyond description, beyond utterance.

Encompassing all things.

A pair of eyes containing everything, transcending everything, threads and streams piercing past, present, and future, overshadowing countless realms.

A single glance could reverse yin and yang, life and death, cover all, overturn all.

Gazing upon those eyes, one felt they saw everything—in those eyes, nothing supreme, no time, no space, no life or death mattered.

It seemed those eyes were the Dao itself, the true Heaven.

It was He!

His eyes!!

He gazed upon the two supreme beings—his pupils devoid of emotion, devoid of desire, carrying not a single ripple, impossible to discern whether he sought to observe who had deduced him, or intended to act.

The two supreme beings roared.

Their roars disrupted the River of Time, shattered the void.

They had deduced Him while burning all their essence, and at this moment, they were at their peak strength—power surpassing all prior limits, even exceeding the supreme being among the previous seven who had lost half his body.

As they surged upward, the closer they drew to His eyes, the more their power rose endlessly, without limit.

Were they trying to kill Him?

Or were they unwilling to settle for merely deducing His eyes, seeking instead to uncover more, to bring back greater knowledge for the future?

Yes.

The two supreme beings exhausted everything, yet ultimately deduced only a pair of His eyes—never even glimpsing His true face.

Flames surged skyward, illuminating the River of Time.

Yet they could not illuminate the true visage of those eyes.

In the instant before reaching those eyes, the two supreme beings burned out completely and perished, their Dao dissolving.

They became the purest Dao, their bodies and Dao extinguished, leaving nothing behind.

Watching them die just before reaching those eyes, no one knew whether they were slain by the eyes as they approached, or whether they simply exhausted all their essence at that very moment.

No one knew, and no one ever could—it would remain an eternal secret.

With the death and Dao dissolution of the two supreme beings, His pair of eyes likewise dispersed.

The First Divine Spirit stood atop the River of Time, his gaze empty and unfeeling, fixed upon the spot where those eyes had vanished—no one knew what he thought.

Though they had deduced His eyes.

Yet in the end, no one knew who He was, not even whether the First Divine Spirit was He.

In terms of utter emotional stillness, absence of thought or feeling, those eyes bore resemblance to the First Divine Spirit.

The possibility that He was the First Divine Spirit existed.

"What will the First Divine Spirit do?"

Those lost in speculation—whether He was the First Divine Spirit, whether the First Divine Spirit was He—watched as the First Divine Spirit walked toward the shattered portion of the River of Time, ravaged by his battle with the seven supreme beings and scorched by the burning of the two supreme beings.

Each step crossed an age; each step traversed an eon.

As he walked, time flowed, and he crossed through ages of decay.

He swept his hand—and boundless, incomprehensible power surged, power beyond even the immortals' perception, the power of the supreme.

The shattered, scorched River of Time rewound like a film replaying, reversing not once but several times over, swiftly returning to its state before destruction.

"Is this the supreme power beyond time? A mere gesture to reverse time, a flick of the wrist to trace back the ages."

An immortal murmured.

As countless beings still watched, eager to see what the First Divine Spirit would do next, curious about the outcome of the Primordial Battlefield, the First Divine Spirit turned his gaze toward them.

Utter terror.

Souls froze, trembling.

My god!

Every person across every world and alternate realm felt their hair stand on end—the First Divine Spirit was looking at them.

There was no mistake: the First Divine Spirit, who had casually slain the seven supreme beings, was looking at them—not at other eras of the River of Time, nor at any past or future moment of this age.

He was looking directly at the people of this age, at this very moment, watching the River of Time.

This feeling arose from deep within each soul—they felt him watching them.

Across time, across space.

Immortals, masters of forbidden zones, ancient beings—all felt their spines chill, their limbs cold as ice, terror reaching its peak.

Even facing death had never brought such dread.

Could it be because they witnessed the First Divine Spirit's battle with the seven supreme beings, learned too much, and now he meant to erase them?

No! We didn't mean to watch! It was the seven supreme beings who reversed the River of Time, stirring it, unintentionally affecting this age's timeline, causing a few worlds in this era to glimpse the battle beyond the River of Time.

It's not our fault!

We are innocent; we are victims too!

Not one of them was calm; all trembled in fear.

If it were Qin Shi Huang, it might be understandable—not so terrifying—but this is the First Holy Spirit, who suffers from obsessive cleanliness; who knows what he might do?

"What you should not know, you must not speak of; the future must not be tainted."

The flawless Holy Spirit spoke.

Though spoken softly, it shook the River of Time, causing a tributary to change course, altering the fates of countless beings across countless worlds, shifting worldlines toward another direction.

Many Immortal Dao figures, mighty overlords, and other great beings who had ascended to immortality twitched their eyelids—they clearly saw that in that tributary, the world had once been rife with deceit and treachery, rivers of blood, warring clans, and divine-mortal battles.

Then suddenly, a brilliant prodigy of humanity emerged, shining across all ages, ending this dark era of blood and tears, fire and wounds, and ushering in eternal peace for ten thousand ages.

Gulp.

The Immortal Dao figures and mighty overlords watched, swallowing saliva straight down.

Is this a warning to them—that if they spread word of the great battle just witnessed, this will be their fate?

Yet they knew well: this was not a warning, for they were not even worth warning. The First Holy Spirit was issuing a command.

A command that all must not speak of what they had just seen, lest the future be tainted and the course altered.

As for that altered tributary, nine out of ten times it was because the First Holy Spirit's obsession with cleanliness flared up—he saw the brutality and filth of that tributary, grew displeased, and changed it outright.

…

(PS: Today I have matters to attend to, so only two chapters—tomorrow I'll make up for today's missing chapters with four.)