The scorched earth in the wilderness was still smoking. Long Wu's dragon flames and Night Owl's shadow were locked in a stalemate in mid-air, forming a purple-black vortex that even scorched the air into distorted ripples.
The communicator's signal relies on a stable energy field. At this tense moment, the figure in the Taoist robe floated down like a cloud in the center of the battlefield.
"Young friend," Xuanmingzi's voice was as light as snow falling into a teacup, but the floating dust stirred up an invisible wave of air the moment it touched the air, directly shattering the distorted energy vortex into stardust.
The disruption of the energy field caused the electrical signal in the communicator to abruptly stop.
Long Wu's dragon breath got stuck in his throat, and Night Owl's bone wings snapped shut. Even Aizen, who was hiding behind cover in the distance, was thrown back a couple of steps by the force.
Lin Yi's pupils contracted slightly.
He could sense that the seemingly casual flick of his wrist had forcibly separated two completely contradictory energies using some kind of spacetime law—this was no longer ordinary suppression of power, but a direct intervention in the rules.
"The projection of the Primal Invader will arrive in three hours." Xuan Mingzi raised his sleeve, revealing a jade tablet broken into three pieces that emitted a ghostly blue light. "With your current control over spacetime, you can't even touch the hem of its garment."
Night Owl's black pupils trembled violently, and the shadows that had enveloped the battlefield suddenly receded back into his body like a receding tide: "Old man, you dare..."
"Shut up." Xuan Mingzi didn't even look at him. He just tapped the duster with his fingertips, and Night Owl's voice was like a snapped string, stuck in his throat, making a hoarse sob.
The old man then turned to Lin Yi, his gaze as gentle as the old professor who taught him chess years ago: "To break through to the Mythical level, you must go to the Forgotten City."
The key to the mysteries of time and space lies hidden there.
"Where is that place?" Chu Yao's holographic projection suddenly appeared beside Lin Yi, her hair tips glowing a pale purple with tension. "There's no record of it in the mainframe database."
"A mythical trial is naturally beyond your comprehension." Xuan Mingzi's gaze swept over Chu Yao, then returned to Lin Yi's face. "It is a fold in the river of time, a test that every being who tries to control time must overcome."
What you need to go is the sea of your own memories.
The Sea of Memories?
Lin Yi's temples throbbed twice.
He suddenly recalled the surging darkness in his sea of consciousness when he first awakened to the power of time and space—at the time he thought it was a side effect of his profession, but now he realized it might have been the entrance to the City of Oblivion.
"Shall we go?" Chu Yao's voice softened, her fingertips lightly touching Lin Yi's hand. "The threat of the Primal Invaders is real, but..."
"Go." Lin Yi interrupted her, his gaze sweeping over the wounded lying at the edge of the battlefield. Long Wu was using his dragon claws to pry at his unconscious teammate. Aizen's tactical goggles were cracked, and blood dripped from his forehead onto the tactical board.
He remembered the little girl who tugged at his clothes for candied hawthorns three days ago in the newbie village; he remembered the school that was destroyed by monsters from another dimension last week, and the graduation photos that hadn't been taken down yet still hanging in the classrooms.
"I have no choice." He turned to look at Xuan Mingzi, "How do I get in?"
The old man smiled, and the dust motes drew a silver arc in the air. Suddenly, a dark crack appeared in the ground, and the wind surging out of the crack carried a strange rhythm, like some kind of ancient ballad.
"Use your spacetime origin to guide you." Xuan Mingzi's voice was carried near and far by the wind. "Remember, everything in this illusion is real, and everything is fake."
Lin Yi took a deep breath and stepped into the crevice.
In the darkness, he felt his consciousness being pulled by a powerful force, the surrounding space and time were being distorted wildly, and strange and noisy sounds echoed in his ears.
The darkness was only momentary. When he opened his eyes again, he was standing on a bluestone road.
At the end of the road is an old house with red brick walls. On the windowsill are green ivy plants that my mother grows, and on the security bars hang sausages that my father dries.
Sunlight filtered through the branches of the sycamore trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Even the air was filled with the aroma of sweet and sour pork ribs—his favorite dish in high school. His mother always said, "Xiao Yi is growing, he needs to eat more."
"Xiao Yi?"
A familiar voice came from behind me.
Lin Yi turned around abruptly and saw a woman wearing a blue apron standing at the alley entrance, holding a soup spoon in her hand.
The fine lines around her eyes were deeper than she remembered, but the ends of her hair still bore the wine-red dye he had insisted on giving her when she graduated from university—at the time, her mother had jokingly scolded him for "wasting money," but she had secretly worn a headband for three months to cover up her newly grown white hair.
"Mom..." Lin Yi's throat suddenly tightened.
He reached out, only to find his fingertips piercing through the woman's shoulder—no, it was the woman's figure that swayed slightly like a reflection on water, and his hand created ripples as it passed through.
"What are you standing there for?" the woman chuckled reproachfully, turning to walk home. "Your dad burned your favorite sweet and sour pork ribs and is hiding in the kitchen sneaking a bite."
A wisp of white smoke rose from the kitchen window, followed by Dad's cough: "Cough!"
Xiao Yi, your mom's talking nonsense again! This is called caramelized aroma!
Lin Yi's eyes suddenly felt hot.
He recalled a winter night three years ago when his mother held his hand in the intensive care unit and said, "Xiao Yi, you must live well." He remembered that his father did not shed a single tear at the funeral, but sat in the living room late at night holding his old schoolbag, the moonlight shining on the white hair at his temples, like a layer of frost.
"This is an illusion." Chu Yao's voice suddenly rang in my ears, her electronic tone carrying an unusual urgency. "Abnormal brainwaves detected. Your heart rate is currently twice its normal rate!"
Lin Yi clenched his fist tightly.
He could feel his spacetime power surging within him, but it was like hitting cotton – the flow of time in the illusion was completely different from reality, and he couldn't even tell whether a second or an hour had passed.
"Chu Yao, locate the core of the illusion." He took a deep breath, forcing himself not to look at the busy figure at the kitchen window. "Scan using spacetime resonance."
"Scanning..." Chu Yao's projection appeared beside him, the purple light at the tips of her hair turning into a stable light blue. "Memory anchor detected, it's a memory from the night of your 18th birthday."
Your mom had just finished her third round of chemotherapy, but she still managed to cook this meal for you.
Lin Yi's breath hitched.
He remembered that day, his mother's hands were shaking, and she spilled half a bowl of soup when she served it. His father secretly buried two portions of spare ribs at the bottom of his bowl, while he only ate chicken bones.
Later, he overheard his parents' conversation in the bedroom. His mother said, "My illness is a burden to you," and his father said, "Don't talk nonsense. Our Xiao Yi hasn't even gotten married yet."
"Breaking through the illusion requires severing the memory anchor," Chu Yao's voice became calm. "But the emotional bond between the memory anchor and you is too strong; severing it directly will damage your mental sea."
"What should we do then?" Lin Yi stared at his mother's back as she turned to wipe the table. As she bent over, a crumpled medical report fell out of her apron pocket—it was a late-stage diagnosis that he had secretly hidden.
"Perhaps... you need to let go yourself." Chu Yao's projection gently touched the back of his hand. "The essence of the illusion is your inner obsession."
The more you try to hold onto these memories, the more real they become.
Lin Yi closed his eyes.
He remembered when he first awakened to the power of time and space, his mother smiled at him from her hospital bed and said, "Xiao Yi, you must be a brave person"; he remembered the bank card his father gave him before he went to university and said, "If you don't have enough money, just say so. Don't make yourself suffer."
These memories are not a burden, but a reason for him to become stronger.
"I understand." As he opened his eyes, a golden light began to shimmer within them. "Space-time perception, activated."
The ripples in the air suddenly became clear.
Lin Yi saw that each ray of sunlight was composed of countless tiny fragments of time, and pale golden threads floated behind his mother's figure, which were the anchor points connecting reality and illusion.
He raised his hand, a wisp of spacetime power gathering at his fingertips, and gently touched one of the threads.
\"laugh--\"
The thread snapped instantly.
Suddenly, Mom's figure became transparent, the smoke in the kitchen disappeared, and Dad's cough turned into a faint echo.
Just then, a strange fluctuation appeared in the air, as if something was watching him.
Just as Lin Yi was about to press his advantage, a sinister laugh came from behind him.
"What a sentimental little ruler."
The figure of the night owl emerged from the void, its bone wings casting a huge shadow in the illusion.
His fingertips held half a broken thread of time, and a malicious light flickered in his black hole pupils: "Unfortunately, you think you can win by letting go."
Let me help you remember the more painful ones—
A ghostly blue flame suddenly ignited at his fingertips, and the moment the flame touched the silk thread, the scene in the illusion began to distort.
His mother's figure turned into a fragmented image torn apart by an alien monster, his father's voice became a groan from the ruins, Lin Yi's college classroom collapsed in flames, and the little girl's cry for candied hawthorn pierced through everything, making his temples ache.
"You think these are fake?" Night Owl's voice was like a viper's hiss. "No, these are the people you failed to protect!"
Your so-called strength is so great that you can't even save your closest loved ones!
Lin Yi's golden light flashed intensely.
He could feel his mind burning, but when he looked at those distorted images, he suddenly remembered his mother's last words, "Xiao Yi, you must live well," and his father's red-eyed words at the funeral, "Your mother can't stand seeing you cry."
"Enough." His voice was deep and rumbling like thunder, and the power of spacetime coalesced into a rotating ring of stars in his palm. "These memories have never been my weakness."
The star ring suddenly shattered, and countless fragments of time poured down like a torrential rain.
The owl's figure was thrown backward by the impact, the distorted images in the illusion began to collapse, and the mother's voice became clear again: "Xiao Yi, dinner's ready."
This time, Lin Yi did not reach out.
As he watched the figure gradually disappear, he whispered, "I will carry your hopes to the very end."
The moment the illusion shattered completely, he heard Chu Yao exclaim: "Warning!"
The owl's spirit is infiltrating the illusion!
he......\"
The sound stopped abruptly.
Lin Yi stood once again in the darkness of the Forgotten City, with seven rhomboid crystals floating in front of him, shimmering with the light of time and space.
Deep within the crystal, he saw Night Owl's black hole pupils staring intently at him, a sinister smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
"The game has only just begun."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com