Chapter 337

All external sounds vanished.

The crisp sound of footsteps echoed clearly on the Naiheqiao, as if the world contained nothing but the echo of one's own steps, forcing one to memorize this very moment's footfall—once across the bridge, it would be heard no more, each step drawing closer to the boundary between life and death.

This river was the boundary; this bridge was the threshold; the shore on this side and the shore on the other were two utterly separate realms, forever without intersection.

A strange sensation arose, growing stronger as they neared the bridge's center.

The bridge was long, spanning the vast blood-yellow river—so long that even Alek and the others, as gods and demons, could not see its far end, nor glimpse the landscape across the river.

Before them stretched an endless river, waves rolling and surging, repeating endlessly yet never identical, always surging forward.

Like the lives of all beings: one wave, one life—never the same, never similar.

Everything was profoundly eerie.

Suddenly.

Alek and the others were horrified, their expressions shifting abruptly.

Someone?!

At some point, a human silhouette appeared ahead.

What's going on?! One second ago, there was no one there at all.

The silhouette faced away from Alek and the others, walking the Naiheqiao just as they were, slowly, its back lonely, evoking sorrow—and immense power!

Step by step, it moved toward the far shore, its gait stumbling, slow, arduous.

Not because the path was difficult, nor because anything blocked its advance—but because it dared not walk, refused to walk, yet had no choice but to proceed, burdened by profound helplessness, desolation, and sorrow.

It seemed something tethered it, making it reluctant to let go, unwilling to continue, yearning to turn back—yet a faint sound echoed softly behind.

"No matter how deep your reluctance or longing, yin and yang are divided; letting go is your best choice. Life and death follow different paths—even if you return, you have no fate in this life, no birth in this life, no feeling in this life."

That voice!

The eerie voice that had echoed the moment they stepped onto the Naiheqiao.

Yet unlike before, this voice now seemed to speak directly to the silhouette, carrying a trace of emotion—no longer cold and desireless, at least touched by the seven emotions and six desires.

But upon closer listening, it felt no different from before.

Clearly visible: the moment the voice sounded, the silhouette trembled.

Finally, the silhouette let out a long, piercing howl.

A roar—so complex, filled with countless emotions, impossible for anyone else to comprehend why it felt this way, known only to the one who roared.

It resumed walking, yet still could not let go, pausing every three steps to look back.

"Impossible!!!"

Hun Duolun and Gu Yun's pupils shrank; they screamed aloud, as if witnessing the most terrifying thing in the world.

The silhouette looked back every three steps—and in that instant, all saw its true face. Hun Duolun and Gu Yun went mad, eyes wide with disbelief.

"How could he still be alive!"

"Impossible—he couldn't possibly still be alive!"

Both were shaken, unable to calm down, unable to reconcile the emotion of recognizing the silhouette's identity.

A chilling dread gripped them.

Alek and the others, baffled, looked at Hun Duolun and Gu Yun with questioning eyes.

It was certain: Hun Duolun knew that silhouette—at least knew its identity.

At that moment.

After taking a few more steps, the silhouette vanished instantly, as if stepping into mist, disappearing without a trace.

Had Alek and the others not witnessed the silhouette appear with their own eyes, they might have believed it was an illusion.

But they were certain: the silhouette was no illusion, no phantom—it was a real person. That powerful god-demon aura could not be mistaken; that heart-stopping presence could not be misread.

Hun Duolun and Gu Yun exchanged glances, then hurried forward to where the silhouette had vanished.

Around them, nothing but emptiness.

For a moment, silence fell—the atmosphere more than unnerving.

If an Earthling had come here and seen this, they'd have only one thought: they'd seen a ghost!

A person suddenly appearing, then vanishing—just like a ghost in a horror film.

Alek and the others were not from Earth; they came from a supernatural otherworld, and did not believe in ghosts or gods. To them, ghosts were merely one race among living beings—just unnaturally ugly.

At this moment.

Hun Duolun and Gu Yun stood there, silent, exchanging no words.

"Hun Duolun, do you know that silhouette?" Alek asked.

Hun Duolun remained silent for a long while before answering:

"I know him. That silhouette is An Shi Zunshen—the first being in my world's history to reach the Fourth Step of Divinity."

Alek and the others were stunned.

In Hun Duolun and Gu Yun's world, the Fourth Step of Divinity was the ultimate limit, the pinnacle of the Jin Zita—fewer than a dozen had ever achieved it.

"Even if he was the first to reach the Fourth Step of Divinity, your world is now in its glorious golden age—there are already two Fourth Step beings now. You've seen Fourth Step powerhouses before—why react like this?"

Ai Tu said.

Hun Duolun and Gu Yun turned to him, then Gu Yun spoke slowly:

"Fourth Step beings are indeed the strongest in our world. We've seen them before—there's no reason to react this strongly.

Even if he appeared here, it shouldn't shock us—but the key is… An Shi Zunshen died one hundred and thirteen thousand years ago!!"

Hun Duolun took over, speaking bluntly:

"An Shi Zunshen was not from our era, nor even the previous one—he was a god-demon from one hundred and fifteen thousand years ago, ten eras removed from our time, and he died one hundred and thirteen thousand years ago."

At this moment.

Alek and the others felt their hair stand on end.

A divine demon from 1,150,000 years ago?! Yet they were seeing him now — didn't that mean he had lived for 1,150,000 years?

What kind of joke was this?

The Wheel-Turning Holy King had only lived for a hundred thousand years, and that was enough to drive divine demons mad — yet Venerable God Anshi had lived for 1,150,000 years?

Could it be that he had achieved immortality?

Yes, it had to be so. Venerable God Anshi had not died 1,130,000 years ago; on the contrary, he might have been alive, and achieved immortality, breaking through the shackles of lifespan, his life reaching eternity — otherwise, how could he have lived until now?

Just as Alek and the others were thinking this in their hearts, Hunt Doren spoke in a deep voice at this moment:

"The reason I'm surprised is entirely because Venerable God Anshi died long ago — he died 1,130,000 years ago. Every race has records of this, and I am absolutely certain that Venerable God Anshi is dead, because my clan's ancestor personally witnessed Venerable God Anshi die with his own eyes.

Venerable God Anshi was a sworn brother to my clan's ancestor; it was my clan's ancestor himself who personally placed his body into the coffin and buried him. It's impossible that he didn't die."

Gu Yun immediately spoke up:

"Venerable God Anshi's death is no great secret; it has been passed down through the ages in my realm. He died to save his wife, using the divine blood and essence of the Fourth Step of Divinity to bring her back to life. In my realm, it has become an enduring tale told through the ages — for his wife, he was willing to sacrifice himself."

Alek and the others were terrified to the extreme.

A divine demon who had been dead for 1,130,000 years — how could he appear here?

"Look quickly at the ground — there are words!"

Aitu suddenly pointed at the ground.