A second life, An Eternal journey to Immortality

After Liu Ying paid for the pill and taken As Liu Ying held the Nine-Yang Detoxification Pill, a sense of determination washed over her. Finally, she had the means to cure Jiang Cheng. The thought of him freed from the poison that had tormented him filled her with relief. Taking the pill, a warm sensation spread through her, and for a moment, she felt a glimmer of hope. She had done it—she would bring him the cure and help him heal.

she stepped out from the back door of the auction house. The cool evening air hit her face as she walked into the street, but something about the atmosphere felt... different.

She couldn't help but remember Jiang Cheng's words: "When the protagonist leaves a special place, like an auction or a rare event, a bloody plot is bound to occur. Someone will be waiting in the shadows, ready to cause trouble." His paranoid ramblings echoed in her mind.

At first, Liu Ying thought it was just the usual nonsense. But now, walking through the bustling streets, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her. Her footsteps slowed, eyes darting from side to side. She half-expected someone to leap from the alley or for a group of thugs to jump out and cause a scene.

Is this it? she thought, feeling a chill at the back of her neck. She quickly checked the area around her, ready for anything—an ambush, a sudden confrontation, or maybe even a poison-laced dagger thrown her way.

She waited.

And waited.

Nothing.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized... nothing was happening. The streets were calm, the crowd was busy, and everything was just... normal.

She let out a frustrated sigh and couldn't help but curse Jiang Cheng silently. "That paranoid idiot... Making me think I'm about to get ambushed every time I leave a place. What kind of nonsense is this? Bloody plot? Yeah, right!"

Liu Ying shook her head and let out a small snort of disbelief. With no sudden attacks or hidden villains, she resumed her walk out of the city with nothing more than a few bags of supplies.

Next time, I'll make sure he keeps his delusions to himself, she thought, walking steadily toward the outer city. The peaceful quiet of the road ahead seemed to mock her earlier tension, and she finally relaxed. There was no blood, no plot, and certainly no protagonist nonsense. Just her, the night air, and the road.

Liu Ying paused, glancing up at the darkening sky as thoughts of Jiang Cheng's warnings lingered in her mind. Despite her initial confidence, she couldn't help but consider the possibility of dangers lurking in the night. Jiang Cheng's tales of bloodshed and treachery always carried a hint of truth, even if they seemed exaggerated at times. Deciding it was best to play it safe, she made up her mind.

"Better wait until dawn," she muttered to herself. "I don't need to be another casualty out here, especially not when Brother Jiang's paranoia might actually have a point."

With that, Liu Ying turned back toward the inn. It was a safe haven for the night.

As night fell, Liu Ying hesitated by the window, uneasy about the darkness outside. She recalled Jiang Cheng's warnings and, with a quiet prayer, whispered, "Brother Jiang, hold on until morning. Please stay safe." She then retreated to her bed, hoping the night would pass swiftly.

The next morning, Liu Ying woke early, having meditated through the night. After a few stretches, she cast a cleansing spell over herself, feeling the energy settle and refresh her body. She breathed deeply, ready for the day ahead.

She made her way to the inn's dining area, where a simple breakfast awaited her—steamed rice and a cup of fresh juice. The comforting aroma of the meal helped ease her nerves. She ate quietly, knowing that today would be a step toward finally curing Jiang Cheng

Liu Ying left the town at dawn, the faint morning light giving her a sense of security. Clutching her belongings tightly, she stepped onto the forest path. The air was cool, and the rustling of leaves filled her ears. She quickened her pace, eager to reach Jiang Cheng—each step bringing her closer to saving him.

As Liu Ying rushed through the dense forest, her breath quickened, heart pounding with urgency. Each step felt heavier as a growing unease clawed at her chest. Finally, she pushed aside the last thicket, and the familiar sight of the cave entrance appeared before her eyes.

But the moment she saw it—her blood ran cold.

The ground had been disturbed. Footprints, scuff marks, and faint traces of hurried movement marred the soil. The cave entrance, which should have been undisturbed and hidden, had been touched—no, violated.

Someone was inside.

Her heart seized. Her palms grew clammy, and a suffocating dread coiled around her throat.

"No… no…" she whispered under her breath, her vision blurring for an instant.

Countless terrifying thoughts assaulted her mind.

Had they found him?

Was he still breathing?

Was Jiang Cheng already… gone?

Her chest tightened like an iron band; her legs felt weak. She staggered forward, her fingers trembling as she gripped the edge of the rocky entrance, peering down into the dim hollow below.

What she saw froze her blood.

Two monks.

One sat cross-legged under the Yang Tree, holding a scarlet fruit, greed gleaming in his eyes. The other was emerging from the depths of the cave—the direction where Jiang Cheng had been resting. His robe was stained with a dark smear. He had a twisted smile on his face, the kind that spoke of cruelty and death.

Then, she heard their voices.

"Is he finished?" the one under the tree asked casually, as if discussing a dead animal.

The other sneered, his tone dripping with malice. "Already dead."

The world shattered.

Liu Ying's mind went blank—completely void for a moment, as though her soul had been ripped from her body.

Her heart stopped.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Jiang Cheng… dead?

A violent storm erupted in her chest. Pain, regret, grief—all fused into a venomous brew. Tears threatened to form, but they evaporated under the searing heat of something far darker.

Rage.

Her expression stiffened—like a mask carved from ice. Her pupils shrank into terrifying pinpoints. Her red eyes darkened into a shade reminiscent of fresh blood pooling under moonlight.

Crimson murder.

Her entire being transformed. Her gentle aura shattered into something raw, wild—primordial hatred soaked in the desire to kill. Her killing intent surged like a tidal wave, thick and suffocating, as though the very heavens bled.

Her breathing slowed. Her heart pounded not with fear, but with the thirst for slaughter.

"How… dare… they…"

Her teeth ground together until blood seeped from her lips. Her delicate fingers trembled, not with fear, but with the urge to rip the flesh from their bones.

Her spiritual power flared wildly, swirling around her like a storm of knives. Her blood-red eyes pierced into the cave like twin daggers. Her aura shifted—no longer human—it was the presence of a predator, a specter crawling out from the depths of hell.

The monks sensed it.

They raised their heads up and looked at her.

Their expressions twisted in shock and fury, but beneath that… fear. For just a breath, their instincts screamed that death had arrived.

The monk holding the fruit dropped it, his hand trembling for a fraction of a second. The other stiffened; his twisted smile cracked, eyes flickering with unease.

"How dare a little girl look at us like this!" one spat, trying to mask his fear with anger.

But their words fell flat against the oppressive wave of killing intent pressing down on them like a blade to the throat.

Liu Ying did not respond.

She stood at the edge of the cave, her hair flowing in the gust stirred by her spiritual power. Her face was pale, but her eyes—her eyes burned like a demon's, promising nothing but agony.

The air was heavy, suffocating. Even the forest seemed to hold its breath.

The monks saw it.

Liu Ying gripped her sword tightly, her knuckles pale. Her face was a mask of ruthless coldness, and her red eyes gleamed with murderous light, like a bloodthirsty ghost crawling out of the abyss.

Without a word, she took a step forward—and vanished.

Merged into the void. Silent as death.

The monks' pupils shrank to pinpoints. Their hearts leapt to their throats, cold sweat pouring down their backs. Their instincts screamed—this was not normal.

"What kind of monster—"

Before the sinister monk holding the fruit could finish his thought, the world around him exploded into crimson.

In the blink of an eye—his head soared into the air. His arms followed. Then his legs. Flesh, bones, and blood splattered in all directions.

He never even saw the blade.

Hundreds of precise cuts shredded his body into unrecognizable fragments.

Defensive talismans?

They shattered like paper before the storm.

His mouth was still forming a scream when his consciousness faded into endless darkness.

In the void, a voice colder than the depths of hell echoed, laced with boundless killing intent:

"How dare a mere ant touch what is mine?"

The remaining monk froze, his breath caught in his throat. His blood ran cold.

He had only blinked—just once.

And his companion had been reduced to a mist of flesh and shattered bones. The air was thick with the stench of blood, bits of meat still dripping from the Yang Tree's leaves.

Before he could even react—she appeared again.

Not far from him.

Liu Ying stepped out from the void like a death god, her sword dripping with warm blood. She stood still—too still. Her face, once youthful and cold, was now shrouded in a chilling haze, her features blurred, like reality itself rejected her presence.

But it was her eyes that broke him.

They were no longer crimson.

They were hollow voids—empty, yet deeper than eternity. Bottomless pits, swallowing all light, all life.

The monk's body trembled uncontrollably. He met her gaze. For an instant, their eyes locked.

And in that instant, he saw it.

Beyond those void-like pupils—he saw a Being.

A Supreme Existence, seated in the endless dark void, vast and boundless, surrounded by shattered stars and drifting galaxies like dust beneath its feet. Its face was obscured Surrounded by swirling cosmic shadows, its eyes—hollow voids, cold and merciless—stared directly into his soul .

The monk's mind shattered.

His spirit wavered.

He felt like an insect—a mere speck—being judged by an omnipotent being that could crush him with a single thought.

"Monster!" He blurted out, his voice cracking, half sobbing, half screaming.

He staggered backward, his legs giving out, his cultivation trembling in disorder.

But Liu Ying didn't respond.

Liu Ying stretched out her slender, jade-like left hand. Her expression was ice-cold, as though the entire world was beneath her gaze. Her fingers slowly curled, and from her pale lips came a single word—detached, emotionless, like the decree of a god:

"Collapse."

A ripple spread through the air, silent, invisible—yet carrying an undeniable power.

The monk's eyes widened in horror. He tried to circulate his spiritual power, to flee, to resist—anything. But before a single thought could fully form—

Crack!

His entire body twisted unnaturally. His limbs crumpled inward, his torso caved as if the very space around him was folding in. Bones shattered. Flesh compressed.

With a sickening squelch, he collapsed into himself—reduced to a small, deformed mass of crushed blood and bone.

There was no scream. No struggle.

Just… the sound of something being squeezed into nothingness.

A strange, terrifying death.

He died without even understanding how.

Liu Ying lowered her hand slowly. Her eyes, still like the void, swept over the scene—expressionless, indifferent. As if wiping out two lives was no different from crushing ants beneath her heel.

Unbeknownst to Liu Ying, in the endless expanse of space and time—so far away it could not be measured in mere light-years—a supreme being stirred.

A pair of eyes opened in the void.

No words could describe his form. He was not a figure, nor a shape—he was existence itself, draped in endless darkness. His presence was vast, stretching beyond perception, and yet it felt as though he was everywhere at once.

The stars and planets closer to him began to trembled and shook violently , their orbits subtly disturbed by his awakening. As the unseen power of the Void Lord spread, ethereal fetal membranes formed around the celestial bodies, protective layers encasing them from the threat, then The planets shifted slowly at first, drifting away from their original orbits. The paths they had followed for eons were no longer maintained, as they began to move away from an undetermined source of disturbance.

Space itself warped and shattered for trillions of miles around him, only to repair itself the next instant—as though reality was both rejecting and submitting to his existence.

Across the vast expanse of the universe, countless beings stirred. Their attention was drawn to a singular point in the cosmos. They felt it before they understood it: the tremor, the subtle shift in reality that came with the awakening of the Void Lord. Whispers began to ripple through the endless stretches of space like an echo in a vast, empty cavern.

"What has stirred him?"

"Is he finally acting?"

"Why now, after all this time?"

"Does this mean something has drawn his interest?"

"Has he finally found something worthy of his attention?"

...

"Did you feel it?" one ancient voice asked, trembling slightly.

"Yes... It's him," another replied, a mix of awe and fear in their tone. "The Sovereign of the Void, Nyxaroth."

"Impossible... why would he awaken now?"

"I don't know, but this is different. His focus... it's fixed on something."

"On someone, perhaps?" another voice murmured, a chill creeping into their words.

"That's the only explanation. He's never shown interest in anything before."

The whispers turned into a low hum, as these mighty beings pondered the implications of Nyxaroth's sudden shift, unsure of what, exactly, had drawn the Sovereign's attention.

The The Sovereign of the Void had never been known to involve himself with the realms of the mortal or the Immortals .

as a lone seeker of the Dao who cared little for the schemes and politics of others. He was a silent observer, a figure so enigmatic that even the most knowledgeable beings could only speculate on his purpose.

And yet, now—now something had drawn his gaze.

His eyes, unseen but felt, peered through the cracks of reality, where the edges of existence frayed like a ragged fabric. He wasn't concerned with the complex web of celestial politics or the ambitions of the mighty. No, his attention was fixed elsewhere. To a distant, insignificant world, one hidden in the corner of the universe, barely noticeable against the grandeur of all that surrounded it.

His focus was solely on her.

Nyxaroth's voice echoed softly in the Void, "A human... interesting." His lips curled into a smile, and a deep, resonant laugh filled the emptiness, shaking the very core of the cosmos.

"Hahaha, My way is not Alone …. My way is not alone,"

his voice spreading across dozens of galaxies, a proclamation that sent ripples through time and space itself. The stars seemed to flicker in awe at his presence.

His gaze fell upon Liu Ying, and something about her closeness to the Void intrigued him. In a swift motion, his fingers flickered, and a long, mysterious sword materialized in his grasp. Its design was unknowable, its grade beyond comprehension.

With a wave of his Hand, he canceled the secrets of the heavens, cloaking his actions from prying eyes. The sword, imbued with his essence, flew through the fabric of space, aimed directly toward Liu Ying.

"I will wait for you," Nyxaroth murmured, obviously on a Good mode. Then, with a final lough.

he took a single step an instant, the endless distance collapsed, and he disappeared into the Void. Where he went, no one could say. His departure was as silent and mysterious as his existence.

Liu Ying paused, her cold and ruthless face remaining unmoving as her hollow, empty eyes gazed upward into the Void. For a brief moment, a strange sensation rippled through her, like a distant echo that brushed against her consciousness.

Her heart remained calm, unwavering, unaffected by the overwhelming presence that loomed across the universe.