Baby with Daoist Monarch System

Chapter 508

Dao Ruins ”saw” a tower.

A tower, constructed purely from ”light,” immaculate in its whiteness.

In the vicinity of the tower, within a thousand miles, there was no pollution from the Gui Xu, nor any anomalies in time and space. It was as if the tower itself was an absolute ”safe zone.”

At the top of the tower, a stable yet powerful ”signal beacon” was emanating.

That beacon did not belong to the Fire, did not belong to the Gui Xu, nor did it belong to those ”shadows.”

It was filled with meanings of ”order,” ”guardianship,” and ”summoning.”

It was calling upon all the Guardians of the Fire faction, lost within this Restricted Area.

It was like a lighthouse.

A lighthouse guiding all ships through the storm of despairing darkness.

Dao Ruins quietly watched the tower.

He could feel the ”life” aura within that tower.

Moreover, there was more than one.

Was it a trap? Or... ”companions”?

Dao Ruins did not hesitate.

He took a step forward, his figure instantly vanishing from the original spot, striding directly towards that ”Tower of Light” situated at the core of the twisted space-time.

No matter what lay ahead.

He would march forward unwaveringly.

This final game, played on the chessboard of the entire Sea of Chaos, also thus commenced its true progression towards the unforeseen ultimate climax because of his resolute step!

Upon entering the twisted space-time, Dao Ruins’ stride did not falter in the slightest.

Around him, within a radius of three feet, it was as though an entire domain was formed. The external ”space,” twisted into a knot, the ”time,” sometimes roaring like a waterfall, sometimes frozen like amber, were forcibly ”calibrated” back to their most pristine and correct states upon touching the area surrounding him by an invisible mighty force.

Just like that, he walked amidst absolute ”normality,” while around him lay a bizarre and absurd ”abnormal” world.

On the left, a galaxy that should have been billions of light-years away was compressed into a ”blade” as thin as a cicada’s wing, stretching across the dam. At the blade’s edge, the flow of time accelerated to an extreme, each instant encompassing billions of years, allowing one to witness the birth and decay of stars on the blade’s edge in a cycle of endless renewal.

On the right, a fragment of the dam was trapped in a ”quagmire” of time, continually ”repeating” the state of the previous moment. A Gui Xu Fierce Beast, caught within, eternally maintained the action of ”raising its front paw,” unable to lower it, nor retract, trapped in an everlasting ”now.”

In the distance, scenes of ”past” and ”future” overlapped like a mirage. Dao Ruins could see, in a ”possible” fragment of the future, supreme beings shedding blood here, the grand principles shattering, transforming into glorious fireworks. He could also see, in an older ”past,” ancestors building dams here, singing ancient hymns, resisting the nascent Gui Xu with flesh and will.

None of these could affect Dao Ruins.

He walked like an absolute ”truth” amidst a world filled with ”fallacy.” Fallacy could not shake the truth, only briefly revealing its absurd nature as the truth passed by.

His gaze remained fixed on that ”Tower of Light” located at the twisted core.

As he advanced, the outline of the tower grew clearer and clearer.

It was entirely formed by an indescribable ”light,” not blinding, not scorching, but rather carrying a gentle and embracing quality like amniotic fluid. It was like a ”singularity” in the Sea of Chaos, an absolute ”point of order.”

The tower bore no Rune, no carving, only the purest ”light” flowing. Yet Dao Ruins could ”see,” within that light, countless ”order structures” smaller than mustard seeds operating, interlinking with one another, forming a perfectly self-consistent ”defense system,” isolating all external distortion and chaos.

This was a kind of ”order” utterly different from the Fire, yet fundamentally the same in purpose.

The order of the Fire is ”resistance,” ”burning,” proactive assault, defending the entire ”existence’s” front line.

Whereas the tower’s order is ”holding firm,” ”anchoring,” demarcating a prison, protecting a realm of ”absolute reality” in the midst of endless chaos.

Dao Ruins stood before the tower.

He could perceive that those life auras within the tower had already realized his presence.

Their auras, ancient, strong, yet carrying a deep weariness and loneliness from having been imprisoned for far too long.

The door of the tower soundlessly opened by itself.

A gentle, yet tinged with uncertainty and nervousness intent reached out:

”May I ask... who are you? Are you... a descendant of the ’Fire’?”

Dao Ruins did not answer; he just took steps, walking into the tower.

The scene inside the tower was entirely unlike the desolate ruinous world outside.

It was a vibrant little world.

There was grass, streams, a few simple thatched houses, even a few lively cranes grooming their feathers by the stream. The sky was a gentle curtain of light, the inner wall of the ”light” composing the tower.

Everything here appeared so tranquil, harmonious, as though it were the legendary utopia.

But Dao Ruins knew this ”utopia” was bought with an endless price of solitude and imprisonment.

Before the thatched houses stood three figures.

At the forefront was an elder with hair and beard all white, dressed in gray hemp garments. His gaze was like two bottomless ancient wells, filled with the bygone vicissitudes of eras. He was the owner of that intent, his aura the most unfathomable, yet also the most fatigued.