Chapter 1867 — Have You Been Well Since We Parted?

The Master of Miluo Palace smiled. "Fellow Daoist Chaos, you are strong, only you still want a touch of seasoning. Though you have attained the Dao, you remain very far from my state. In the eyes of others, men like the Lord of Tiandu and Ling the Defiler, my cultivation stands above theirs, but my Dao attainment is not their equal. In the eyes of Old Man Wuya, both my cultivation and my attainment fall short of his.

But before you, your cultivation and attainment and mine are much the same, and the one thing in which I stand above you is seasoning.

" A strange light flickered in Shen Mu's eyes, and he asked with suspicion, "Seasoning? " The Master of Miluo Palace said, "Just so. Once one has cultivated to a state like yours and mine, attainment and cultivation differ hardly at all, and the only thing left to compare is each other's seasoning. I have eighty hundred million years more seasoning than you, and I have lived through more, the history of the First Epoch. Chaos, when you can return to the very beginning of the First Epoch's founding, your seasoning will reach my level, and may even surpass me.

Chaos holds an advantage Hongmeng can never match, and your achievement shall stand above mine. " He instructed him patiently, "You have lived through the Calamity of Destruction of sixteen universes, and through the Calamity of Creation from the Second Epoch to the Seventeenth, but you have not lived through the First. When you can return to the beginning of the First Epoch's founding, you will surpass me. Only now, you fall short of me by a touch of seasoning, and that touch is a hairline gap.

" Shen Mu's expression shifted slightly, and in a sudden instant, within the Calamity of Creation, in countless spaces too minute to be further divided, his figure was everywhere, countless selves in countless spaces, each unleashing a different divine power. And among these powers, not one was repeated.

This was his supreme achievement.

The countless minute spaces within the Calamity of Creation were the countless possibilities of the future universe, countless images of the future universe, and with a single thought he could fill those possibilities to overflowing.

Having stepped into the Dao through the Calamity of Destruction of the Sixteenth Epoch, his arts of power and Dao were such that even Tai Yi, even beings like Taishang and Wuji, would find them inconceivable and beyond comprehension. Yet at the very moment his thought moved, within those spaces there appeared one more Master of Miluo Palace in each.

The Master of Miluo Palace struck earlier than he, and faster, and at the instant Shen Mu's powers had just burst forth, the Master had already moved a step ahead of him. Shen Mu shook his body, and the countless selves in countless spaces vanished, leaving only one, but it was already too late.

Miluo Palace too became one, and its power was already imprinted upon his chest.

A hairline is a hairline. A hairline's difference in seasoning meant an infinitely vast gulf.

To make up for that gulf in seasoning, he would need far longer striving to accomplish it.

With a boom, Shen Mu tumbled backward, struck by the Master of Miluo Palace back into the Calamity of Destruction.

That blow from the Master was the same as sending him back into the past.

"Chaos, you will cultivate to my step, and even walk ahead of me. " The Master of Miluo Palace smiled and murmured, "Only you are not yet complete.

" He waved his sleeve and sent Shen Lingyun back to Shen Mu's side, and with Shen Mu's interference gone, he could at last see the future of the Seventeenth Epoch.

Shen Mu fell into the River of Chaos and lightly lifted his hand in support, and Shen Lingyun's feet came to rest upon his palm.

Shen Mu's face darkened slightly as he gently set Shen Lingyun down, for in this battle his defeat had been too clean.

The Master of Miluo Palace gazed into the future, and at this moment, with Shen Mu's obstruction finally gone, every image of the Seventeenth Epoch universe poured into his sight.

From the founding by Hongmeng, to the birth of the Five Supremes, to the emergence of Tai Yi, the felling of the tree, the rise of the Creators, the surging forth of the Ancient Gods, the vast history of seventeen epochs began to unfold in a manner never before seen.

There was no World Tree, no Heaven-Openers, and no Miluo Palace. The Creators waned, Longhan split in three, Chiming continued, Shanghuang stood opposed, Kaihuang rose, and Jingping rose above the wasteland.

Sixty hundred million years of time flashed past, Miluo Palace invaded, the World Tree was reborn, and three and a half billion years of future fell likewise into his view.

His gaze paused as he saw Shen Mu return to the past, then his gaze pressed onward.

That was a future even Shen Mu had never lived through, a many-colored future, even more splendid than when Shen Mu had been present, yet as the Master's gaze traveled ever farther into the future, his Dao heart began gradually to tremble. A thousand hundred million years into the Seventeenth Epoch, the breadth of the universe would already exceed that of the First, yet this universe still showed no tendency to cease expanding.

Two thousand hundred million years on, no new attainers of the Dao were born. Three thousand hundred million years on, the vastness of the universe dimmed the spirit-energy traversing bridges, and they could no longer connect with other worlds.

Only attainers could cross the long and endless starry sky to seek their fellow Daoists.

Yet even the time an attainer spent seeking friends was immensely long, and by then there were no more wielders of powers, and the spirit air and spirit force between heaven and earth had been stretched by the expanding universe until it was incomparably thin.

Four thousand hundred million years on, most stars in the universe had gone out and evaporated, and the once radiant and many-colored universe gradually dimmed. Five thousand hundred million years on, the last sun went out, and the last remaining holy lands slowly lost their energy.

The Yuan Realm collapsed, Xuandu dissolved, Youdu existed no more, the Tianyin Realm evaporated clean away, and one heaven after another walked toward the final void.

Six thousand hundred million years on, the Master of Miluo Palace looked out and saw the last holy land gutter out. The Seventeenth Epoch universe turned black and sunken, with only occasional flickering lights remaining, which must have been the afterglow of attainers.

He looked onward, into darkness, and even that afterglow gradually thinned. He looked toward the end of the darkness, where the last afterglow of the attainers vanished, and the whole Seventeenth Epoch universe was completely flattened, become an incomparably thin membrane without end.

All matter dissolved utterly, breaking down into the most minute particles, evenly spread across the void membrane of the universe.

The universe was utterly voided. The Great Silent Extinction.

With a spurt, the Master coughed out a mouthful of Dao blood, for the Great Silent Extinction eight thousand hundred million years hence had utterly shattered his Dao heart, and all his persistence, all his ideals, in that instant were of no use at all. His powers, his Dao arts, had no place left to be used.

For so long he had prepared for the Calamity of Destruction and the Calamity of Creation, yet before this fated Great Silent Extinction, all his former preparations were wholly useless, and moreover he could think of no solution to it. In a daze, he walked out before the arrival of the Seventeenth Epoch's Calamity of Creation, returned to the Sixteenth Epoch's Calamity of Destruction, and returned to Miluo Palace.

He sank into silence, pondering bitterly, seeking a counter, yet exhausting all his wisdom he still could find no way through.