Apotheosis

That unimaginable amount of time was enough to bring about massive changes to the universe.

Time should have eroded the marks engraved on the wall of the mountain. It was impossible that they had been left unharmed for so long.

Zen's face dripped suspicion, and he quickly withdrew his conclusion.

Rocher also shook his head. "No, the words on the wall of this mountain were not written very long ago. There are vines around the mountain wall, and although these words look very ancient, the vines have not hidden them. I suspect these words were carved there less than half a year ago!"

Half a year...

Someone had carved the words on the wall of the mountain half a year ago as a clue.

Undoubtedly, the clue had been left behind for a certain someone. No civilization resided on the savage land, and only Rocher had been brought there by the Heavenly Sword Illustration.

In other words, someone had carved the words on the wall of the mountain half a year in advance in anticipation that Rocher would discover them.

When Rocher sensed Zen's wariness, a helpless smile rose on his face. "They've always been by our side. Watching us."

'There are people watching me?'

Zen felt a chill run down his spine.

"From the moment you stepped out the door of the Luo Clan...no, from the moment you were born, they have been by your side," Rocher emphasized, his words a haunting lullaby.

Coming from his mouth, the conspiracy sounded sinister.

It was hard for Zen to believe that someone had always kept an eye on his every move. It was rather unbelievable.

Seeing Zen's look of disbelief, Rocher continued, "Didn't you find it strange? You've had many coincidences in your life. You narrowly escaped death every single time. Some people would tell you it's because of your good fortune."

"Luck truly exists," Zen insisted, feeling even more confused now. Rocher was trying to overturn everything Zen had once believed in.

Rocher smiled knowingly. A light wave of his sword had dozens of strikes pushing forward. Each sword strike then sank into the mirror-like lake.

The lake had been tranquil, its surface like a mirror. Now disturbed by the dozens of sword slashes, many ripples appeared on it, instantly spreading in opposite directions.

"I performed fifty sword strikes." Rocher was very fast in his moves. He seemed to be quivering in place, but he thrust out fifty strikes. Zen was able to count the number readily.

"Which sword strike left the deepest mark under the lake, do you think? You have one-in-fifty odds of being right," Rocher said.

The sword strikes had penetrated the surface of the lake and dived into the mud. How could Zen know which sword strike left the deepest mark under the lake? The

but rather a poison aimed toward the soul. However, it could give a warrior a drunk experience. If one took the poison directly, their soul would immediately corrode. The Celestial Position members had used a special technique to tame it down and moderate the poison's effect.

Some martial artists were addicted to alcohol, but after their cultivation reached a certain level, they did not find any sort of wine effective. The Soul-burning Wine, however, was different and could make warriors drunk. But it was something that could only be encountered by chance and not sought.

Zen felt as if the world was spinning around him. He could not help but sink into an uncontrollable, but freeing state. Nobody knew how many years he had gone without getting drunk. Soon, he fell into deep sleep by the lake.

"Zen is drunk. I'll take him so he gets some sleep," Freya said. She stood up, wanting to help him get to his feet.

Rocher had also chugged a bottle of the Soul-burning Wine, but his eyes were still clear. His gaze shifted. What he had taken was only ordinary water.

He stared straight at Freya, his gaze piercing her. "Which great world are you from?"

Xenia also stood at Freya's side. Tiny lightning bolts constantly danced on her fingertips, as if she was trying to prevent Freya from escaping.

Freya's face was blank and innocent. "I don't know either... That great world doesn't have its own name."

Because there were a number of great worlds, some of them were often left unnamed. They only had their own numbers, so it was not astonishing that Freya's world did not have a name.

Rocher crushed the jade bottle in his hand with minimal effort. He did not trust her at all. "Tell me your purpose. I don't want any strange people by Zen's side. And if you don't wish to tell me, you'll just have to die."