Chapter 55: An Ending 2

Roughly thirteen thousand years later, the hybrid races’ rebelliousness gradually took shape.

They, who had long stood atop the human world and controlled the resources and power of countless planets, could not tolerate a dragon clan entrenched on their backward homeworld forever dominating them.

The technology to destroy a planet had long been widespread, and the hybrids’ verbal spells and bloodlines had continuously improved with the aid of technology.

“The emperor of the old era cannot keep pace with the new era—this is the moment for revolution!”

Capture the old emperor for experimentation—everyone could become the new emperor.

Provided the old emperor couldn’t manually generate solar flares and had mastered control over material elements to the finest degree.

“To be honest, they had it tough,” Lu Mingfei remarked. “I thought they’d break after five thousand years, but they endured generation after generation.”

After reestablishing their rule, the great interstellar age arrived.

Lu Mingfei recalled the interview question when he entered the Cassel Academy: Do you believe in aliens?

Deep in the cosmos, countless different life forms and intelligent civilizations naturally existed.

To survive, humanity and the hybrids pooled their wisdom; through the development of dragon spiritual abilities, the emperor, after five hundred thousand years, reached the realm humans called “god.”

Countless civilizations were stunned—by cosmic standards, this rate of civilizational advancement could be called explosive.

Merely hundreds of thousands of years…

From a civilization that hadn’t even left its home planet to reaching this level—the dragon bloodline had officially entered the sight of countless cosmic civilizations.

Integrate, utilize, ally.

Wage war, conquer, assimilate.

Another two hundred thousand years passed, and under the protection of all beings, Lu Mingfei took a new step.

One day, he discovered his authority could freeze the current state of material motion while spiritually retracing all things’ past states.

He returned to over seven hundred thousand years ago, able only to observe, not interfere.

“For a life form nearly immortal like the dragons, any evolution can maximize its advantages.”

The authority to reboot the world had reached its limit.

He returned to the summer of his eighteenth year.

“Success—and failure.”

Two different perspectives appeared in his mind: a black dragon coiled on the moon, watching Earth; his human self in the Literature Department, watching Chen Wenwen holding One Hundred Years of Solitude.

“There’s truly no way out,” Lu Mingfei said calmly, chewing his food.

“Their spirits and bodies remained forever in the North Atlantic in 2012.”

Many years ago, when he first gained his authority, he had tried—and failed to reboot to a time before he gained it.

This time, he broke through the limit—but…

His original body still lingered in the starry void hundreds of thousands of years in the future, gazing at that blue planet with occasional spacecraft rising and falling.

Only… he had created different timelines.

In the following hundreds of thousands of years, he found a new pastime.

“I thought, weren’t there plenty of games and anime before? Why not fulfill my youthful fantasies?”

“For example, craft a planet, create some life… and toss my own memory-erased self into it.”

“Later, I found a way to cross the void and stumbled upon some interesting worlds…”

“Since they’re just splinters born after a reboot, I send them out, wait till they’re done, pull them back, drop them before 2012, and let my main consciousness possess them for immersive experience.”

“You’re really something,” Su Lin remarked, then paused, asking: “That magical girl…?”

“…,” Lu Mingfei fell silent for two seconds, then said slowly: “When you’ve played enough, you inevitably try something more extreme, right?”

“Magical girls were popular for a long time.”

“You’re truly insane,” Su Lin said, his expression odd, unsure how to judge.

“Don’t be insane. Sit down.”

Xiao Yan, hearing Lu Mingfei’s explanation, asked curiously: “Then what about my world? And Ye Fan’s world—did you find the coordinates for ours?”

“?” Lu Mingfei didn’t understand what Xiao Yan meant.

“Oh, that was me,” Ye Fan said beside him. “I got bored, so before sending over his Dao Fruit, I extracted some true spirits and scattered them into other worlds.”

“….”

What could Su Lin say? You all are truly something.

“Alright, that’s about it. Time to say goodbye,” Lu Mingfei finished his meal with a few bites, then took a sip of beer.

Tiny light points began to surface on his body.

“Brother Ye, you say regret is still possible—but actually, there’s no need to regret. I miss those guys too much,” Lu Mingfei said, voice low yet tinged with relief. “Living through him is fine—at least I can be Lu Mingfei once more.”

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, but I couldn’t do it alone.”

“My original body can’t return to the past.”

“Anyway, I can’t go back—and he’s just beginning.”

He stood, walked toward his younger self beneath the tree, and like his other splinters, dissolved entirely into Dao rhythm, merging into the sleeping Lu Mingfei’s body.

Only a used set of chopsticks and two empty bottles remained, proof he had once existed.

On Shuijing Peak, no one spoke for a moment; the atmosphere was peculiar.

Han Li observed the current situation, then carefully addressed Ye Fan: “Master Ye, if you have no further instructions, I shall take my leave—there are still matters in my original world to attend to.”

What Han Li said was what Kleine had wanted to say—but at this moment, following the crowd would be inappropriate.

“Strange—others struggle to meet me, yet you two see me and want to run? Excessive caution isn’t always wise,” Ye Fan lifted a teacup, sipped lightly, his gaze fixed on the moon: “No rush. Sit.”

“Thank you, Master,” Han Li bowed respectfully and sat upright.

“Just call me Ye Fan—no need for so many formalities.”

Su Lin glanced at the others present: Han Li, Kleine, Xiao Yan, Yao Lao, Zhongli.

Han Li was understandable…

Two of them—but who was the third?

You all run off so fast—but where am I supposed to run? My home’s right here.

“Is the Ye Fan we know also you?” Su Lin asked the Ye Fan before him. “To be honest, your level is far beyond my comprehension.”

“I am all Ye Fans—but the Ye Fan you know is not me,” Ye Fan said slowly. “I’m just sitting here in this era for a while, then I’ll return. Don’t be formal.”

According to Ye Fan’s description of beings beyond Sacrificial Dao, at this level, most things lost meaning.

It was merely a thought—causality and spacetime, altered at will.

All of it was just information—so what meaning is there in him spending time playing with us children?

Is it like the other Lu Mingfei, experiencing different lives?

“Even healthy people keep medicine at home, right? In case they fall ill, they have something to treat it,” Ye Fan seemed to know what they were thinking—he didn’t need to probe or understand; he simply knew what they cared about at this moment.

Ye Fan smiled at them all and said: “Take some time to read the Saint’s Ruins side stories. I’m returning now—don’t link me to Sacrificial Dao. Just treat him normally.”

“Farewell, all of you.”

Ye Fan raised his teacup in salute, then in the next instant, his eyes flickered blankly before clearing again.

“…,” Ye Fan stared at his raised arm, puzzled: “Why am I holding this teacup?”

He looked around.

“How’s Lu Mingfei? Huh, why is it dark outside?”