Chapter 404: Spanning Time, Spanning All, Crossing Memory

The double-pupiled prodigy was no longer the naive, clueless child he once was; he had grown, endured much, and as the man in green robes returned again and again wounded, he had vaguely sensed something was wrong, and begun to suspect the truth.

Even if he might not yet reach the level to know the full truth, even if no one had told him.

But after years of trials, through countless human dealings, having stepped beyond the palace walls and learned how vast the outside world was—and how much his own palace was a sanctuary—he had seen too much of its cruelty.

He had descended into terrifying ruins, fought for supreme treasures, clashed with other prodigies, and entered one sacred forbidden land after another.

Little by little, traces had surfaced, subtly leading him to suspect the truth about his father—truths buried in secrets no one dared speak of.

But he did not care about those secrets; what pained him more was the man in green robes' countless wounds.

If not for these wounds, if not for going to that place he called the "battlefield," his father would have long since shattered into the Supreme, and how could he have aged into this state? If not for wounds so deep they reached the level of the Dao itself, how could he possibly die?

The Immortals, if no accident befalls them, shall exist eternally.

For the Immortals, gazing across one age after another, watching great eras rise and fall, is normal.

The man in green robes could not merely watch.

"Can I go with you?"

The double-pupiled prodigy's gaze was filled with hope; this time, the man in green robes had told him he would not return after this journey—he was going to exhaust his last shred of hope and attempt to break through to the Supreme.

This was a final, all-or-nothing gamble.

Perhaps he had encountered a great crisis and needed to strengthen himself, or perhaps he was near death and wished only to survive, to heal his wounds—there was only one path: becoming Supreme.

The man in green robes' expression was gentle, as if recalling something sorrowful; softly he said, "You will go."

The double-pupiled prodigy nodded. That was enough.

He understood his father; he knew his nature. Persuasion was useless. Once he had decided, nothing could stop him—not even the prodigy himself—and he would not try to stop his father, nor could he.

He would only prepare, waiting for the day when it would be his turn.

He hoped to stand beside his father in battle, to aid him.

Finally, the man in green robes turned and left.

At the moment he stepped into the distant void.

The being who had always seemed gentle and reliable before the world now revealed a majesty that shook past, present, and future—a sovereign's aura that swallowed the eight directions and all six realms.

His figure grew even more towering, his bearing radiant; even his now-white long hair could not dim his splendor.

All ten thousand Dao paths in heaven and earth trembled and wailed before him; his aura and bearing were no less than any great sovereign of past or present.

His aura stunned the double-pupiled prodigy, who suddenly understood everything—every trace, every clue, snapped together in that instant. He knew his fate, saw the truth. He felt sorrow, yet not a trace of fear—only regret.

"Father, if you go this time and cannot return…"

"Then I will not return."

"Father!"

"Hmm?"

"Wait for me!"

"Good."

Watching the man in green robes, whose heroic bearing shook past and future, whose aura stirred the ancient and primordial eras, vanish into the void, only the double-pupiled prodigy remained, staring long after.

All heaven and earth fell utterly silent; the entire world, all realms, grew still.

Some were awed by the man in green robes' aura; others, like the double-pupiled prodigy, had pieced together the clues and guessed a terrifying conclusion—those who understood could not breathe, feeling a suffocating pressure.

Then, with indescribable gazes, they looked toward the retreating back of the man in green robes.

Countless beings turned their eyes toward the direction the man in green robes had departed.

Some ancient ones who knew the truth wept, their shoulders trembling, fists clenched, desperate to follow him—but they knew they were not worthy, even though they were ancient and powerful.

Compared to the man in green robes, they were too weak; they would only be a burden.

The ancient ones wept, their eyes never leaving the direction he had vanished: "My lord, may your future be lit by radiance—we shall follow you to death."

Finally, the scene froze on the man in green robes as he shattered through the void.

Bai Mang receded, returning to the space of meteor-light.

It felt like a lifetime had passed, like he had lived through a great dream, still lost within it.

Kamikawa Mitsu remained motionless, silent, for a long time.

He reached up and touched his own eyelid, looked down at his fingertip—there were tears on it; he had wept, he did not know when.

Perhaps he wept when he saw the man in green robes return wounded again and again; perhaps he wept at the moment of departure, moved by the atmosphere and words around him…

But perhaps not.

He was not moved to tears by external influence—he wept from the heart, from deep within his soul, touched by something tender and vulnerable that stirred within him at the sight.

"I shall raise my banner here, shatter this false dream, forge a new covenant…"

Unconsciously, Kamikawa Mitsu spoke these words aloud—then he froze, staring at the tears on his fingertip, his mind locked on the man in green robes' departure.

Why did I say that out of nowhere?

Did I unconsciously realize the truth?

What did those words mean?

Kamikawa Mitsu stood stunned, not understanding why he had spoken those words, why such a phrase had surfaced in his mind.

It felt as if the words had always been there, always remembered, etched into his soul—only now, at this moment, had he recalled them.

For a long time, Kamikawa Mitsu stood there, not reaching for the meteor-light.

Raising a banner… shattering the false dream… forging a new covenant… these words must be connected to what the man in green robes had done…

But what was the connection?

"Do I truly know the man in green robes?"

This was not a question. In the next instant, Kamikawa Mitsu's eyes grew even deeper:

"Whether I know him or not—he saw me."

His thoughts drifted.

Kamikawa Mitsu recalled the earlier scene, going through it frame by frame, and before long, the image in his mind came to rest on one moment.

It was the moment when the double-pupiled prodigy said "wait for me" to the man in blue.

The man in blue looked at the double-pupiled prodigy, his double pupils swirling with brilliance, as if all the world's time, space, dimensions, falsehood and truth — nothing could escape those eyes.

He was looking at me!

In that frozen frame, as the man in blue looked at the double-pupiled prodigy, he also clearly glanced toward the spot where he himself stood.

He could never have mistaken it.

He was standing off to the side between the man in blue and the double-pupiled prodigy — a spot where there was no one, except… himself.

Horror rose in his heart at that moment.

Kamikawa Mitsu was shaken: "He could see me? He saw me."

There was no mistake, because the frozen frame in his mind at that moment was indeed looking at him — not some casual glance, but a definite, deliberate look in his direction.

Unthinkable!!

He simply could not bring himself to believe it, nor could he believe it.

Crossing endless ages, breaking through space, time, solitude, illusion, consciousness, reality, spirit — everything, everything…

The man in blue knew Kamikawa Mitsu was present, and saw him.

……