Chapter 74

After Xiao Ze ran off, Luo Han watched his retreating figure and asked, “He works under you?”
“Yes,” Ling Qingxiao replied. “His background is unclear—even he doesn’t know his surname. God Rong Cheng saw he was pitiable and brought him into the army. Since he has some talent for formations, I was asked to take him in.”
Luo Han understood. Things like this were common during the Middle Era. War raged everywhere, and children who lost their families had nowhere to go—joining the military was their only option. At least in the army, someone would look after them. Left to wander, who knew what might happen?
The army was both a fighting force and a refuge. With the clear divide between immortals and demons, identity itself became a kind of allegiance—there was little fear of infiltration.
Realizing Ling Qingxiao still had matters to attend to, Luo Han didn’t hold him up. She said goodbye first, “I’ll go ahead, you take care. See you soon.”
Watching her walk away step by step, Ling Qingxiao couldn’t help but call out, “I’ll be waiting for you at the base of the mountain.”
Luo Han didn’t look back but waved behind her. “Alright, I’ll be back soon.”
She walked up the familiar mountain path. She had taken this road countless times—she knew every tree, every stone, every detail. Gradually, her steps slowed.
Something felt wrong.
And almost the moment she stopped, a heavy shadow fell over her, cloaking her in darkness.
The Demon God. Luo Han sensed it immediately.
Luo Han’s expression turned grim. She hadn’t expected the Demon God to be this relentless. It had already been three years, yet he still couldn’t let go of that initial clash.
He had even picked the exact moment when Xi Heng was away from the mountain.
Luo Han stepped back cautiously, scanning her surroundings. Though the world outside was still bright and sunny, the space around her had turned pitch black. The Demon God had laid down a barrier, cutting her off entirely from the outside world. Even Xi Heng or He Xu wouldn’t be able to sense what was happening here.
Luo Han held no illusions about the Demon God. She quietly gathered energy, then suddenly launched an attack.
She knew perfectly well—neither she nor the Demon God would show mercy. Since that was the case, it was better to strike first. The Demon God’s divine power far exceeded hers. The only thing she could rely on was her grasp of Law.
The Demon God hadn’t yet formed his own Law. Maybe...this was her one chance.
Luo Han used time-space techniques, trying to tear open a rift in the Demon God’s barrier. As long as she could open even a tiny crack and leak out her energy, those in the mountain below—He Xu, Xi Heng—would sense it.
The Demon God felt the Law of Time and Space and was shocked. In just the blink of an eye, this arrogant little upstart had already learned a Law? How was that possible?
A mix of shock, fear, and even a flicker of envy surged within him. He struck suddenly—his shadows closing in like four towering walls. No matter what, he had to eliminate this new god today.
Sunlight couldn’t penetrate the Demon God’s barrier. No sound or energy leaked out. The forest remained serene, the fragrance of grass and trees filling the air—completely belying the deadly fight happening nearby.
Luo Han felt the shadows bearing down on her, the pressure on her body increasing dramatically. She couldn’t afford to hold back any longer and poured everything into her time-space technique.
—
After Luo Han left, Xiao Ze ran back to Ling Qingxiao and said, “Brother Ling, I’ve already told God He Xu. He said he understands you’re in a hurry and won’t keep you long.”
Ling Qingxiao didn’t even acknowledge Xiao Ze’s teasing. “We’re still in camp. You need to follow military protocol and use proper ranks.”
Xiao Ze pouted. “There’s no one else around. Is it really necessary to be so strict?”
Ling Qingxiao’s eyes were calm. “Laws must not be broken.”
Alright then...Xiao Ze muttered inwardly—why hadn’t he seen any of this military strictness when Ling Qingxiao had left his entire unit to approach Luo Han alone at the market?
By military law, no one was allowed to leave their formation before officially being dismissed upon arrival.
Of course, Xiao Ze didn’t dare say any of that aloud. After grumbling silently, he stretched with a sigh. “No fighting today, that’s great. Peace and quiet, what’s better than that?”
Xiao Ze had just said it casually, but Ling Qingxiao suddenly froze in place, as if a thought had struck him.
Xiao Ze had already walked ahead but quickly scampered back, tail between his legs. Ling Qingxiao didn’t seem to notice him at all. His eyes sharpened, and he murmured almost to himself, “Quiet…”
No. That was it—the wrongness. How could the forest be quiet in broad daylight? There were no bird calls on the mountain.
Ling Qingxiao’s face changed drastically. He turned and shot up the mountain.
Something was wrong. Luo Han was in danger.
Xiao Ze was startled by the look on Ling Qingxiao’s face. He shouted after him, but Ling Qingxiao didn’t respond at all. Xiao Ze panicked. He pinched himself hard, then turned and sprinted toward the command tent.
Ling Qingxiao never joked. For him to look like that...it had to be serious. Xiao Ze didn’t have enough power or skill in formations to help—he’d only get in the way. The best thing he could do was get reinforcements and notify God He Xu immediately.
—
Ling Qingxiao raced up the mountain, flying along the path Luo Han usually took. Sure enough, he spotted her figure in the woods. He called out to her, and Luo Han turned, smiling calmly: “You’re here.”
Her expression was perfectly normal—but Ling Qingxiao knew at once that it wasn’t her.
He drew his sword without hesitation. “Luo Han” looked startled. “It’s me. Why are you attacking me?”
Ling Qingxiao didn’t waver. Even though this thing looked exactly like Luo Han, it wasn’t her. Against demonic illusions—what was there to hesitate over? In the past three years, he had slain many demons. The Jiuxiao Sword was soaked in killing intent and was especially effective against demonic creatures. After just a few moves, the imposter couldn’t keep up and was cut down, bursting into a cloud of black mist.
The fragments dispersed into the air, still tinged with demonic energy. Though Ling Qingxiao had defeated the illusion, his heart was heavy. The Demon Clan had deliberately created a fake Luo Han to mislead them. If Xi Heng scanned the mountain with divine sense and saw “Luo Han” still climbing, he would naturally relax. But in that time, the real Luo Han would already be gone.
Where had they taken her?
Ling Qingxiao forced himself to stay calm. Only the Demon God had the power to pull off something like this. With Xi Heng and He Xu overseeing the camp, and constant patrols around, it would’ve been incredibly difficult to sneak Luo Han out. Which meant...she was still on the mountain.
He continued searching the forest along the path, and soon he felt a faint fluctuation—
A time-space fluctuation. It was Luo Han!
He rushed in that direction and arrived just in time to see Luo Han trapped in a shadowy space. A narrow rift had been torn open beside her. Ling Qingxiao froze for a split second, then immediately realized what it was.
He wanted to warn her to be careful. Time-space rifts could suddenly expand or contract—and worse, they might open into the void. But before he could speak, the rift beside Luo Han suddenly doubled in size. The violent pressure difference tore a massive hole in the Demon God’s shadows...and swallowed Luo Han completely.
Time-space rifts were incredibly dangerous. If one accidentally fell into the void, they might never return.
The Demon God, sensing the terrifying pressure coming from the rift, panicked. He quickly retracted his power and fought against the suction force. Fortunately, the rift had appeared as suddenly as it vanished. In just an instant—it was gone.
When Ling Qingxiao’s hand reached out, it passed through nothing but air.
The suction from the time-space rift had alarmed every god—Xi Heng and He Xu’s auras were already speeding toward the mountain. Seeing that he no longer had an opportunity, the Demon God clenched his jaw in fury, then waved his hand and vanished into a wisp of black smoke.
Only Ling Qingxiao remained where he was, his palm empty. For a long time, he couldn’t come back to himself.
—
The instant Luo Han was swallowed by the rift, she felt an overwhelming sense of danger. But the rift vanished before her eyes in the blink of an eye, giving her no chance to escape. She barely had time to steady herself before a flurry of spinning debris came hurtling toward her. Forced to dodge, she quickly realized things were far from ideal.
There was no spiritual energy here. The air was thin, and—worse—gravity felt completely different. Her body felt weightless as she stood.
Luo Han hastily activated a protective charm to block several strikes from the flying stones. By the time the barrage ended, the talisman had already cracked.
She sighed and reluctantly stored the damaged charm in her spatial ring—it wouldn’t be usable again until she could find someone in the Tianqi era to repair it. She barely managed to stay upright and looked around.
She had fallen from a lush, verdant mountain forest full of birdsong and spiritual energy into a place that was silent, dark, and barren. All around her was eerie stillness, the world black as pitch. In the distant void, various nebulae shimmered with brilliant light.
Those were worlds—each a different realm. But even just looking at them, she could tell they were incredibly far away.
The Three Thousand Realms each had their own unique power systems and ecosystems. The modern world she’d grown up in and the cultivation world she’d crossed into were two completely different realms.
And all of them coexisted within the same universe—known as the Void Domain. Vast and boundless, the Void was filled with floating worlds, each scattered across its expanse. Even neighboring great realms were separated by unimaginable distances.
And now, Luo Han was on a floating islet somewhere within the Void Domain.
She exhaled deeply, filled with a profound sense of misfortune.
Time-space rifts were unpredictable in both time and location. She had only meant to open a small rift in the Middle Era, just enough to transmit a distress signal. Who could have guessed she’d hit a real rift—and be sucked straight into the Void?
The universe was so massive—how was she supposed to find her way back?
She stood there for a moment before carefully heading toward the closest light source. The Three Thousand Realms made up only a tiny portion of the Void. Over 90% of the domain was filled with time-space turbulence, asteroid fields, dust clouds, and devouring vortexes—danger lurked everywhere. But dangerous or not, she had to find her way home.
Adjusting to the altered gravity, Luo Han weaved through the drifting rubble. Though small, those floating rocks spun at terrifying speeds. A single hit could kill an ordinary person on the spot. Even a cultivator might sustain serious internal injuries.
If not for her defensive talisman taking most of the hits earlier, she probably wouldn’t have survived.
Just as she dodged another wave of stone, a powerful oppressive force slowly swept toward her.
The worst-case scenario had happened. Lost in time and space, disoriented in the Void—and now she’d encountered a Void Beast.
Void Beasts were creatures native to the Void. They didn’t need sunlight, air, or water—they fed on the particles drifting through space. Luo Han didn’t know much about them, but even an idiot could tell that massive, dark creature headed toward her wasn’t friendly.
Not good. Not good at all.
She didn’t dare hesitate. Instantly, she pulled out a handful of talismans from her ring and hurled them at the creature without even checking what they were.
Fortunately, she’d brought the ring with her when she came down the mountain—and it still contained many Tianqi-era talismans. Since she hadn’t been able to use them, she’d saved up quite a few. Now, she didn’t care what they were. She just chucked them all.
Colorful talismans burst into silent explosions—soundless in the Void. The bursts of dazzling light seemed to dazzle the Void Beast’s vision. It paused, visibly unsettled, and recoiled from the brightness.
A sudden idea struck Luo Han.
Void Beasts lived in a soundless, lightless environment. Their vision likely regressed over time, making them hypersensitive to light. She took out the brightest white-light talisman she had, waited until the beast drew closer, and hurled it right at its eye.
An intense burst of white light exploded through the Void. Luo Han had already tied a silk veil over her eyes to filter the glare and wasn’t affected. The Void Beast, however, was stunned. Seizing the moment, Luo Han flicked out two frost needles, shooting them at the creature’s eyes just as it blinked.
Sure enough—no matter how strong the beast, the eyes were always the weakest point. Its eyes blinded, the Void Beast writhed in pain, thrashing wildly. Floating meteors were sent flying in all directions. In the vacuum of the Void, even a slight push could build into deadly momentum. The once-still debris now rained down like a meteor storm.
Luo Han had no choice but to find shelter. The force was too intense—she couldn’t even stick her head out.
The beast flailed wildly, its strikes powerful but directionless. For now, she was safe, but that wouldn’t last. In a lightless world, the Void Beast didn’t rely on sight to hunt. Sooner or later, it would find her.
It was a difficult situation. She crouched behind a boulder, thinking furiously but found no way to defeat such a massive creature. Even meteors bouncing off its body didn’t faze it—it must’ve had unbelievably thick skin. With her power, there was no way she could break through its defense.
Streaks of fire rained down as meteors slammed into the ground, leaving craters behind. Watching all the sparks dance in the darkness, Luo Han couldn’t help but think of charcoal-grilled meat.
Then, for some reason...grilled fish.
Right—grilled fish...Luo Han suddenly remembered hearing something back in the modern world: humans can’t see live deep-sea fish because those creatures live in high-pressure environments. Their muscles and bones are adapted to extreme pressure, so once they’re brought to the surface, the internal and external pressure imbalance causes them to die.
Deep-sea fish...pressure...the Void...space beasts…
A fuzzy idea began to form in Luo Han’s mind. The Void had lower gravity than the normal world, and correspondingly lower pressure. Space beasts lived in this environment—so, like deep-sea fish, their internal pressure was in balance with their external surroundings. If she could manipulate the Laws around the space beast to continuously increase the ambient pressure—raising it to the point of rupture—wouldn’t that kill it without a fight?
The logic made sense. But the execution...was extremely difficult. The biggest problem? Luo Han had only studied the Law of Pressure—she had never actually practiced it.
Now, she had no choice but to improvise—treat a dead horse like a living one. Luo Han reached out and tried to alter the pressure in a small area in front of her. But before she could get any feedback, the space beast suddenly swooped overhead, bringing a rain of debris. The boulder Luo Han had been using as cover began to crack—if she didn’t deal with the beast quickly, her shelter wouldn’t last.
Gritting her teeth, Luo Han raised a hand and carved out a pocket of space around the beast’s head. Then she rapidly increased the pressure.
The space beast was far too large for her to control its entire body, so she settled for targeting its head.
For all living things, the head is always the most vulnerable. Once the blood vessels in the brain rupture, even the mightiest predator can’t escape death.
The beast writhed in agony. Its brain felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hammer. Driven mad by pain, the creature thrashed and rolled violently, desperately trying to fight off its unseen assailant. Rocks shattered and flew in every direction, but Luo Han stayed huddled behind her boulder, ignoring the chaos above. This was all-or-nothing. She poured every last bit of strength into amplifying the Law of Pressure.
Just as she was about to collapse, the space beast finally died. Its massive body crashed to the ground with a dull thud, sending a plume of dust into the air. Luo Han hastily activated defensive formations to shield herself from the flying sand and gravel. Once the world quieted again, she cautiously dispelled her array and crept toward the beast’s corpse.
Its tail was still twitching faintly—it had died in great pain. Luo Han knew very little about the Void, but even based on common logic, she could guess: a space beast this rare and this powerful...its muscles, bones, and flesh had to be incredibly valuable for forging.
Unfortunately, the beast was so huge that she didn’t even know where to start. Just walking one full circle around its corpse took nearly half an hour.
When she neared its chest cavity, she suddenly sensed a faint pulse of Law.
She froze in shock. Was this thing really just a beast? Why did a space beast carry Law energy?
She moved closer, cautiously sensing the energy inside. Yes—it really was a Law. A thought struck her.
Space beasts fed on the dust of the Void—and the Void stretched across the entire Three Thousand Realms. Naturally, it would carry traces of countless world Laws. These bits of Law clung to the dust and, over time, were absorbed by the space beasts. After millennia of consumption and internal circulation, the Laws accumulated inside the beast’s chest.
Luo Han had a bold idea—what if she absorbed that energy? If she devoured the Law within the beast’s chest, wouldn’t her own power grow rapidly, making her next use of Law far easier?
Nature’s truth was harsh and simple: powerful creatures thrived by preying on others. Hunting was undeniably faster than cultivating.
She didn’t hesitate. Using space techniques, she carved out the beast’s chest core. It wasn’t easy—she struggled with it for a long time before finally prying it out. Then she found a sheltered spot, set up multiple defensive arrays, and held the core in her hands. Sitting cross-legged, palms to the sky, she closed her eyes and began slowly absorbing the Law within.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes again. The Void winds were still howling, meteor storms still raged day and night, and the distant starfields continued to shimmer with dazzling light.
Luo Han looked down at her hands. Though she hadn’t tested anything yet, she could clearly feel it—her command over Law had grown significantly. If she hunted another space beast now, the time and energy required would be cut in half.
No wonder cultivators in the Tianqi era were so obsessed with killing for treasure. Robbery, betrayal, backstabbing—it really was a shortcut to power.
Now that she had consumed the beast’s core, she lost all interest in the rest of its carcass and left it for other Void creatures to scavenge. She pressed forward.
Along the way, she captured two or three more space beasts.
Her control over Law improved steadily—what she gained in just a few days here would’ve taken centuries to achieve through ordinary cultivation.
But this time, Luo Han didn’t feel any joy at her progress.
Because she realized...she was lost.
She had never had a good sense of direction. And here, in the Void, everything looked the same. No matter which way she turned, it was always the same dust belts and asteroid fields. Even when she picked a bright nebula to follow, she’d quickly lose track of which one it was.
In the vast cosmos, every star looked alike.
And slowly...her sense of time began to dissolve. No day or night. No seasons. No external stimuli. Just an endless sea of darkness. The suffocating weight was worse than the Desolate Abyss. At least back then, she’d had Ling Qingxiao with her. Even then, she’d nearly broken down in less than a month.
Now, she was completely alone—wandering the cosmos in silence.
Luo Han had no choice but to write down everything she did in a jade slip, repeating the names of her friends over and over to maintain her mental stability. But even so...despair was closing in.
She realized, at last, that wandering blindly like this was meaningless.
She didn’t know where her world was.
And even more painfully...she didn’t know where she was supposed to go.
Luo Han finally stopped and lifted her head to gaze at the endless night sky. The vastness of the universe was terrifying. Even as the Heavenly Dao of her realm, she was nothing more than a speck of dust against the cosmos. Who was she? What was she meant to do? Where did she come from—and where was she going?
She began to spiral into inner demons, overcome by doubt. But then, a sudden chill ran across her fingertip, and she jolted out of her daze. Looking down, she saw that the ring on her hand was quietly radiating a cool energy.
Luo Han was overwhelmed by a surge of emotion. This was the ring Ling Qingxiao had given her. Back then, they were still in Zhongshan. They hadn’t yet gone to Western Sea or the Middle Era. Her life had been just like the modern world—going to class every day, reading, studying, being dragged to the library by a certain straight-A classmate. Her biggest worry had been hard homework.
She stretched out her other hand and placed the two rings side by side. They were both standard-issue items from the Heavenly Palace, supposedly identical. But only now did Luo Han realize—they weren’t.
The one Ling Qingxiao had given her had a calming enchantment embedded within it. And he never even mentioned it.
She opened her storage space and saw, right at the top, a crystal-clear bamboo cup. This was the one she’d bought to give to Xi Heng. She had been on her way to deliver it when she was ambushed by the Demon God. During the chaos, she’d dropped most of the set—only this one remained, pulled into the Void alongside her. As soon as she landed in the Void, she had carefully tucked the cup into her space ring, keeping it safe.
In the ring, time stood still. The bamboo cup remained as pristine as it had been the moment it left the craftsman’s hands—just like how it looked when she’d received it from Ling Qingxiao.
Luo Han blinked hard, forcing the tears back. Though she wanted to cry, her eyes gradually became resolute. That’s right—she had to go back. She promised Ling Qingxiao she would come down the mountain to find him. With the kind of trust he placed in others...if she didn’t show up, he would keep waiting forever.
She had so many friends, and so many dreams yet unfulfilled. Whether in the Tianqi Era or the Middle Era, there were countless people waiting for her return—Ye Zinan, Zou Jibai, Xi Heng, Rong Cheng…and Ling Qingxiao.