Chapter 13: This is Fate

This is fate’s choice

The Meteor Fire Rain is called a forbidden technique because its duration is extraordinarily long—long enough to exterminate all life within its range, even scorching the ground three feet deep.

Under normal circumstances, no caster’s spiritual force, regardless of race, could sustain such immense magical consumption.

But the Meteor Fire Rain is an exception, because it is not creation—it is summoning.

The colossal sun on the horizon is real!

That terrifying sun, named 【Wrath of Loathing】, was once a subordinate deity of 【Chaos】, a herald of 【Chaos】, imprisoned by 【Order】 in some age, and since then has become the supreme power bestowed by 【Order】 upon its elemental judges.

Simply pull open the prison door holding 【Wrath of Loathing】 for an instant, aim at a target area, and the suppressed fury, held back for countless eons, will pour down.

Only when He awakens from Chaos and realizes His outburst merely benefits the followers of 【Order】 will He reluctantly withdraw, slam the prison door shut, and begin brewing the next cycle of rage.

Wrath of Loathing, subordinate deity of Chaos, herald of Chaos, prisoner of Order

I’ve said all this merely to prove one thing: the Meteor Fire Rain is unsolvable by mortals.

Cheng Shi and the others had charged only a few minutes toward the 3 o’clock direction when meteors began exploding around them in sequence.

They didn’t even need to strike them directly—the splashing rivers of magma already made every step impossible.

“No, this path won’t work! Mage!”

“Time, rewind!”

The scene was so familiar—time reversed once more.

“One! Run!”

Cao San Sui had just been flung back onto the shore of time’s river when he felt Chen Chong dragging him wildly toward the 1 o’clock direction.

“Wrong! Chen Chong, 5 o’clock!”

Chen Chong halted, swung his arms without hesitation, spun the two people in his grip like a windmill, and used the momentum to dart sharply backward!

“What’s going on?”

Cao San Sui’s face darkened: “We’ve failed twice.”

Xia Wan followed close behind; Cheng Shi frowned silently.

He reached out and turned the die in his lap again.

3 o’clock.

“This way won’t work! The smoke’s too thick—we can’t see the path! Assassin, guide us!”

“Assassin? Song Yawen? Fuck, he’s dead! Mage, rewind!”

“Time... rewind...”

“7 o’clock, Chen Chong, reverse!”

The die flipped to 4 o’clock.

“Xia Wan, watch out!”

“Time... rewind!”

“9 o’clock, hurry!”

The die flipped to 5 o’clock.

“...”

Time Walkers rise to T0 status partly because they have infinite trial-and-error opportunities in the 【Time Battlefield】.

But 【Time】’s divine power isn’t endlessly free—when Time cannot continue flowing in the battlefield for too long, its master, too, grows angry.

A god’s sneeze becomes a mortal’s storm.

By the sixth time rewind occurred, even as a devotee of 【Time】, Cao San Sui’s memories began to blur.

“Time, rewind!!”

“One! Run!”

Cao San Sui bounced violently as Chen Chong sprinted; he snapped his eyes open, his mind foggy for a moment, then muttered:

“We’re restarting...”

Chen Chong froze, urgently asking:

“Then what now? Which way?”

Cao San Sui looked utterly hopeless: “I remember fragments—each person’s death moment—but I’ve forgotten the count... forgotten which way we’re supposed to go.”

Chen Chong’s heart sank—this could mean only one thing: they had failed many times.

A Time Walker lost within time was as good as declared defeated and dead.

But Chen Chong was not a man who accepted defeat—he roared and turned the group toward the 3 o’clock direction.

“Snap out of it! Match your memories to the paths—maybe we can find an exit!”

Nangong was equally frantic; seeing Cao San Sui’s vacant stare, she gritted her teeth, drew her pronged spike, and drove it deep into her own belly.

Immediately, a thick surge of healing light poured over Cao San Sui’s head, clearing his chaotic mind instantly.

He met Nangong’s hopeful gaze and nodded fiercely:

“Fine! I’ll remember!”

But at that moment, Cheng Shi suddenly shouted:

“Wrong! This is the sixth time—11 o’clock! Hurry, Chen Chong, turn!”

Chen Chong moved fast, far ahead of Xia Wan; he turned in shock, but before he could ask, Xia Wan obeyed instantly, sprinting toward 11 o’clock.

Cao San Sui stared in stunned disbelief—he had no idea how Cheng Shi knew it was the sixth time.

How could a devotee of 【Nurturing】 remain clear in a time labyrinth?

He couldn’t.

Cheng Shi was, after all, only a player—the one unaffected by the time labyrinth wasn’t him, but the die in his hand.

Chen Chong glanced down at Cao San Sui’s stunned face, grimly replied:

“Fuck it, I trust you!”

He didn’t hesitate—or rather, he had no reason to; in Chen Chong’s mind, the moment Cheng Shi took command, he must have had a way out.

After all, he had 2000 points.

Among 2000 points, there are no freeloaders.

Cheng Shi himself wasn’t sure if 11 o’clock would lead to escape—he only knew every other direction had been tried and failed.

He traced each face of the die in his lap, silently flipping it to 6 o’clock.

Six times. This was the sixth time.

From now on, counting wouldn’t just require flipping vertically...

Xia Wan sprinted with Cheng Shi on her back; under the effects of continuous healing and her Hunter’s talent, her long legs stretched wide, crossing the sea of fire as if walking on flat ground.

But her grim expression told Cheng Shi she didn’t believe in this path.

“Cheng Shi, are you sure this is the right way?”

Cheng Shi nodded honestly:

“Not sure.”

“Then why—”

Cheng Shi smiled brightly: “This is fate’s choice!”

Xia Wan’s eyes widened, her pupils contracting; she opened her mouth to ask—when a meteor streaked with flame crashed down upon them.

“Boom—”

“...”

Before closing his eyes, Cheng Shi clutched the die and cursed:

“Fuck.”

“...Time... rewind!”

They returned to the starting point—the same familiar scene. Chen Chong sprinted without hesitation toward 1 o’clock.

Cao San Sui remained dazed; Nangong remained tense; Song Yawen remained out front.

Only Cheng Shi stared at the die’s 6 o’clock face, silent.

No way out—six directions tried, no path to life.

His mind grew restless, but his hand didn’t stop—he flicked his thumb, launching the die high into the air, then swiftly caught it as it fell backward.

Xia Wan noticed Cheng Shi’s motion behind her; while sprinting forward, she asked grimly:

“What’s wrong?”

Cheng Shi opened his palm—the die showed 1 o’clock. He sighed, resigned.

“We’ve failed six times. But fate’s guidance points to 1 o’clock.”

Xia Wan’s emotions spiraled—she didn’t know whether to grieve over six failures or rejoice over Cheng Shi’s “fate’s guidance.”

“So... 1 o’clock is correct?”

She was beginning to trust Cheng Shi unconditionally.

Cheng Shi clicked his tongue, muttered:

“But I’ve got a feeling fate’s a whore.”

Xia Wan stared, incredulous, glancing back at Cheng Shi.

Before the gods descended, that phrase made sense. But after the gods descended...

Let me put it this way: one of Them, whose divine name is 【Fate】.

“To hell with fate—better believe I’m Qin Shi Huang. Xia Wan, reverse—7 o’clock!”

Cheng Shi chose the path of defying fate.

He shouted it loud enough for Chen Chong to hear.

Like Xia Wan, Chen Chong had many doubts, but he did not hesitate—he turned and followed Xia Wan back the way they came.

After running a short while, Cao Sansui realized this path resembled a fragment of his memory.

This meant they had failed in this direction before.

If nothing went awry, three seconds later, a meteor would strike just to Xia Wan’s right front, blasting a massive crater into the ground.

Both Xia Wan and Cheng Shi would stumble and fall into it.

Then, he would rewind time once more.

The flame of hope in Cao Sansui’s heart flickered and dimmed; he counted down the seconds, waiting to be lost again in the river of time.

3.

2.

1.

“Time… rewind… Huh? Huh huh huh???”

Somehow…

Nothing happened.

Cao Sansui stared in shock as Xia Wan strode boldly through the fire and smoke, fleeing into the distance.

How could this be?

The meteor that should have fallen in his memory did not appear—worse, not a single meteor from the entire 7 o’clock direction had fallen.

The sky ahead suddenly cleared; not a single meteor was visible overhead, and even the flames avoided this stretch.

This absurd scene, amid the apocalyptic tapestry of falling fire, was like someone had used an eraser to draw a pristine white line along the 7 o’clock axis.

Perhaps to the “painter,” this line was merely a casual stroke—but for Cheng Shi and the other five trapped within the tapestry, it was a real, tangible lifeline!

The group sprinted faster, driven by shock and terror, racing along the clear strip of sky until, after nearly an hour of gritted-teeth endurance, they finally escaped the range of the meteor firestorm.

The moment they escaped, the firestorm tapestry—previously “erased”—replenished itself completely.

Cao Sansui glanced at his pocket watch: exactly six hours had passed. He ended the 【Time Battlefield】 at the next full hour, and the force of temporal flow departed from them.

The final rewind had faintly imprinted itself upon the river of time.

The group turned back to the path they had taken: meteors still fell like rain, flames spattered like molten pulp—just as before, utterly devoid of hope.

“This is…”

“How is this possible?!”

“Why is there a path to survival?!”

“A miracle… It’s a miracle…”

Everyone stood frozen, staring at Cheng Shi in stunned silence, their faces etched with awe and incomprehension.

“What is this… some kind of artifact? Can this even be called an artifact?”

“Cheng Brother, don’t tell me you’re actually 2400?”

“You…”

Especially Xia Wan—only she knew how Cheng Shi had made his choice, chosen the 7 o’clock direction, and led them out of the fire.

“Why?” she wondered silently, yet never dared to ask, “Just because Cheng Shi called fate a whore?”

Cheng Shi watched the fire cascade across the horizon, his mind equally reeling.

“Second time…”

He thought to himself.

“Could I really have some hidden talent? And is the trigger phrase: ‘Fate is a whore’?”