Chapter 403: The Double-Pupiled One, Mysteriously Dead

Since ancient times, those with double pupils were not unique; there were many such individuals.

Among those with double pupils, the two most famous were Shun and Xiang Yu.

Both were figures of imperial stature, their deeds shocking past and present, passed down through millennia; mention either, and none fail to speak with enthusiasm and endless praise.

Shun and Xiang Yu lived far apart in time; their deeds had nothing in common.

The only connection between them, if forced, was their double pupils—both were bearers of double pupils.

Is this truly the case?

No, they had another connection: their later-life endings were both tragic.

It is said that Shun had a wicked father and a vile younger brother, and his death was suspicious; after passing the throne to Yu, he claimed he wished to enjoy peace and tranquility, embarking on tours across the land.

Yet when he reached the lands of Cangwu, he fell gravely ill and died en route.

An immortal-magic-level being, possibly even an immortal one, dying of illness?

As for Xiang Yu, though called the Overlord of Western Chu, he ultimately perished at Gaixia—his ending was no better.

Know this: in any world, whether modern or another realm, strength and renown are linked.

The greater the fame, the greater the strength.

This is beyond doubt.

Fundamentally, Kamikawa Mitsu was certain that ancient China had once possessed a brilliant immortal-divine civilization; thus, Shun, Xiang Yu, and Cangjie must have been the three strongest known double-pupiled figures in history.

Among all historical double-pupiled individuals, these three stood supreme in strength.

Shun and Xiang Yu died under mysterious circumstances; add to this the immortal corpse in my possession—its death was also unpeaceful, occurring in the eerie Yin Earth realm, its body covered in red hair.

Could their mysterious deaths be connected to their double pupils? It feels as though they are.

Of course.

Kamikawa Mitsu had considered the later lives of other double-pupiled individuals; it seemed none else met such tragic ends as Shun, Xiang Yu, or the immortal corpse—some died peacefully, naturally.

Logically, given the fates of other double-pupiled individuals, one should conclude that their double pupils had no connection to the mysterious deaths of Shun and Xiang Yu.

Yet Kamikawa Mitsu believed there was an inevitable link.

This was not Kamikawa Mitsu's wild speculation—he had grounds.

According to Qing Zhou Longzao's "Da Qiang Shang Hao Xing," there is a passage describing Xiang Yu: "Yafu loved ingenious stratagems, yet was ultimately misled by the double pupils."

What does "ultimately misled by the double pupils" mean?

Perhaps a modern Chinese history teacher would interpret it as: Xiang Yu's double pupils destined him for greatness, but unfortunately, the very fame of his double pupils made him overconfident, leading to shortsightedness and ultimately his downfall—suicide at the Wu River.

This is merely the interpretation within ordinary Chinese history.

But what if Chinese history was not ordinary history? What if it was a brilliant immortal-divine civilization?

Could it be understood that Xiang Yu's strength was inseparable from his double pupils, yet he was ultimately undone by them—dying because of them?

After all, in the Transcendent world, double pupils are inherently destined for greatness, extraordinary beyond measure.

"Did other double-pupiled individuals not die mysteriously because their strength was insufficient?" This was the possibility Kamikawa Mitsu currently considered.

For Shun, Xiang Yu, and the immortal corpse—all three who died mysteriously—were undoubtedly immensely powerful; even the weakest among them must have walked far along the immortal-magic path.

As for other double-pupiled individuals, their reputations were not as great; perhaps they were merely immortal-magic-level beings.

Kamikawa Mitsu concluded: the mysterious death of double-pupiled individuals may be tied to strength—in simple terms, only those with great strength among double-pupiled individuals could die mysteriously.

A curse of ill omen?

With these doubts, Kamikawa Mitsu once again reached for the streaking light, hoping to glean new clues.

Unfortunately, the next two attempts to seize the streaking light yielded no clues—but not entirely without reward: Kamikawa Mitsu acquired a divine technique.

Only on the fourth attempt did Kamikawa Mitsu gain a breakthrough.

The familiar Pure Land palace, yet an unfamiliar environment.

Kamikawa Mitsu saw the original body of the immortal corpse.

This time, the figure was no longer a child—he had become a towering young hero, his aura increasingly resembling that of the immortal corpse's true self.

Judging by his aura, he was at least at the fourth step of the god-magic realm.

A young immortal-magic being—even in my own created Primordial World—he would be a peerless hero.

On this occasion, Kamikawa Mitsu again saw the man in blue robes, identical to the virtual figure Cangjie he had created.

He saw the void split open, revealing layer upon layer of dimensional voids and alternate realms, leading to unknown places.

When the man in blue robes returned, he had aged drastically, his body covered in wounds, yet his eyes remained unchanged—mysterious, having seen through all worldly illusions, with a faint trace of lingering attachment to the world.

Watching him hurry back, he celebrated his son's birthday—the immortal corpse's true self—and then departed again.

He left.

The scene shifted instantly.

When the scene stabilized, the immortal corpse's true self had grown stronger; judging by his vitality, roughly fifty years had passed since the previous moment.

The man in blue robes had been gone for fifty years.

Upon returning, he was even older; Kamikawa Mitsu did not know where he had gone, but he knew clearly—he had been rushing for some person or thing, suffering wounds beyond repair.

Then.

The scene changed again.

Another fifty years had passed.

Thus, he returned once every fifty years; each time, new wounds appeared on his body—he was now like a candle burning to its final flicker, dimming and flaring, ready to vanish at any moment.

This was an immortal!

One who had reached the brink of the supreme, yet suffered wounds beyond repair—and was dying…

The double-pupiled hero felt sorrow, unable to understand where his father had gone, why he was wounded, and wished to ask—but the man in blue robes never gave him the chance, arriving hastily and departing swiftly, only to celebrate his birthday.

The man in blue robes' calm and indifference made it clear—he cared nothing for his own death.

He could only cultivate in silence; he was no longer the mischievous child he once was. With age, with all he had endured, with seeing his father's injuries, he had long since been tempered into a man of responsibility, a peerless hero of his generation.

He strove to raise his strength, wanting one day to be of help to his father, never again to watch him get hurt.

Even though he did not know where the blue-robed man had gone or what he had done, he could tell that the blue-robed man had encountered something terribly difficult—something even an Immortal would struggle to handle.

Finally, on the day he reached the Sixth Step of Divine.

The blue-robed man returned after a gap of fifty years. Watching his child attain the Sixth Step of Divine—with this momentum, in the not-too-distant future there was hope of reaching Immortal—the heavy pupils that had remained unchanged through the ages finally shifted: in relief, in helplessness, in…

Watching the blue-robed man offer him birthday wishes, give him a birthday gift, and prepare to leave once more.

He could finally hold back no longer; the emotions he had long suppressed burst forth. The blue-robed man's injuries were far too severe—he was truly about to die.

"Dad, where are you going?"

This time the blue-robed man did not refuse to answer. He smiled: "The battlefield!"

Just two simple words, yet they made one's face change drastically, making Kamikawa Mitsu think of a terrifying notion, a shocking guess.

The heavy-pupiled hero asked no more, and the blue-robed man offered no explanation—naturally he would not speak. Perhaps, having reached this level, he already understood.

……