Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!

The cold mountain wind howled through the fractured, jagged mouth of the gorge, carrying with it the bitter tang of ozone, pulverized limestone, and the lingering stench of Yan Xiao’s severed corpse.

The gray mist drifted lazily across the damp stones, yet neither of the two young women moved a single muscle to brush aside the clinging dampness.

The catastrophic weight of the tale that had just unfolded hung like an iron anvil over the ravine.

Xia Mengyao and Xu Xiansu were stunned silent, still trying to digest the information in the span of a few breaths.

To the sects and young disciples of the Prime Origin Realm, their entire world was defined by the bitter, bloody struggle to step into the Saint realms, to seize ancient inheritances, or to dream of touching the mythical boundary of a Supreme Emperor.

They believed the universe was an eternal limitations governed by the indifferent majesty of the heavens.

Yet they had just been told that in another timeline, that very limitations had been torn apart.

They had listened to the chronicle of an empire bathed in Immortal Qi, where mortals broke free from the chains of fate; a war where entire universes were hurled like slingshot stones; a mad, starving Heavenly Dao that had devoured infinite dimensions across infinite realities; and the horrifying extinction of all existence until only a single, miraculous branch of time remained standing outside the void.

Xia Mengyao remained on one knee, her pale, slender fingers clutched so tightly around the hilt of her sword that her knuckles had turned as white as milk-jade.

Her deep blue eyes were trembling, staring blankly at the wet loam beneath her boots.

Huo Yue... dead?

Haoran... burning his lifespan to ash just to hold back the collapsing sky?

Every instinct in her upbringing wanted to reject it as the crazed, hallucinatory ramblings of an ancient ghost.

But the terrifying authority that had effortlessly suppressed her and Xiansu just moments prior was an undeniable, physical truth.

That spectral woman had touched a realm beyond the Immortal Emperor; she had no reason to weave such a grand, melancholic lie just to amuse two fledgling juniors.

Beside her, Xu Xiansu stood rigid. Her hair drifted across her sharp, vibrant orange eyes, staring intensely at the fading phantom before them.

Her mind was a tempest of sharp calculations, tearing apart every sentence, every concept, and every implication.

Unlike Mengyao, whose heart ached with sentimental sorrow over the tragic deaths of their future companions, Xu Xiansu’s heart was forged of cold, calculating, and ruthlessly pragmatic steel.

She cared little for the romantic tragedy of a fallen universe.

What mattered to her was the board, the pieces, and the immediate, practical variables currently threatening her path to the summit.

Soon, Xu Xiansu snapped out of it.

Her brows furrowed in sharp, haughty irritation, the tip of her dagger twitching as she gestured toward the mangled, bifurcated remains of Yan Xiao lying in the mud.

”So you mean to say,” Xu Xiansu asked, her melodious voice cutting through the whistling gale with sharp, skeptical annoyance, ”we are going to encounter and get annoyed by people from another timeline?”

Her tone was dripping with pure, unadulterated disdain.

It was as if having the fate of the multiverse resting upon their shoulders was far less offensive to her than the prospect of having more greasy, self-important fools like Yan Xiao jumping out of the bushes to babble about destiny, copy her techniques, and waste her precious time.

Spirit Xu Xiansu, whose spectral silhouette was already flickering like a dying candle amidst the morning mist, looked upon her younger self’s scowl with a mixture of exasperation and quiet amusement.

”Something like that,” Spirit Xu Xiansu replied softly, her voice carrying a faint, hollow echo as her vocal cords unraveled into starlight. ”But you don’t have to worry. They cannot actively interfere that much.”

Her ancient, fathomless eyes drifted upward, piercing through the canopy of weeping willow trees toward the boundless blue firmament above.

Deep within the cosmic machinery of this reality, an immense, terrifying consciousness slept—the native Heavenly Dao of this singular, surviving timeline.

It was an ironclad, territorial sovereign of absolute order.

If that Heavenly Dao found out that there is a weakened Heavenly Dao outside wanting to take over its territory, it will definitely devour the Heavenly Dao from Spirit Xiansu’s timeline, who is still in a weakened state.

A cosmic will was not an alliance of benevolent gods; it was a primordial apex predator that recognized only the cold arithmetic of dominion.

The invading, broken Heavenly Dao that had chased Spirit Xu Xiansu here was a battered, shivering dog that had exhausted its conceptual reserves annihilating the multiverse.

It was forced to hide in the deepest, most desolate crevices of the chaotic void, not daring to manifest even a single wisp of its true authority.

If it dared reach into this timeline with direct divine intervention, if it cast down cosmic tribulations, manipulated local laws, or directly struck at the living beings of this world, its foreign, alien frequency would instantly trigger the alarm bells of the Heavenly Dao.

And it would certainly not hesitate for even a second; it would descend with the full, unbridled fury of an uncorrupted universe, rip the foreign cosmic will from its hiding hole, and mercilessly devour its remaining authority to strengthen its own domain.

Therefore, the weakened Heavenly Dao could only operate like a cowardly rat in the shadows.

It could only pluck drifting, displaced souls from fractured, dead timelines, sneak them across the planar boundary through minute cracks in causality, and hand them minor systems or fragments of foreign destiny, desperately hoping they would create enough localized chaos.

They were annoying bugs, certainly, but they were bound by the mortal rules of this world.

They had to cultivate step by step, they could bleed, and they could die.

HUMMM—

A sudden, sharp tremor rippled through the clearing.

The faint, crystalline starlight that formed the spirit Xu Xiansu’s celestial robes began to disintegrate at catastrophic speed.

The edges of her torso were peeling away into clouds of luminous blue motes, drifting upward toward the sky like embers from a dying pyre.

Her legs had already dissolved completely into thin air, leaving only her chest, her shoulders, and her pale, regal head floating weightlessly above the mossy boulder.

Just then, Spirit Xiansu’s body became so transparent that the rough bark of the trees behind her was clearly visible straight through her cheekbones.

Xu Xiansu’s eyes widened, her haughty nonchalance instantly shattering into raw, panicked urgency.

She immediately urged her alternate future self, stepping forward with her palms outstretched, her voice cracking with shameless, impatient desperation.

”You’re disappearing! Quick! Hand over all your legacy or it’ll all go to waste!”

It was the ultimate, unrepentant declaration of an opportunist.

Standing before the final, agonizing seconds of her own alternate self’s existence, there were no tears, no comforting words of farewell, and not a shred of solemn respect.

She only saw an ancient, half-transcendent Immortal Emperor whose boundless cosmic fortune was about to evaporate into non-existence.

To let millions of years of supreme cultivation insights, divine arts, and primordial secrets vanish into the dirt without taking a bite was an unforgivable sin that Xu Xiansu’s greedy soul could not possibly endure!

Meanwhile, Spirit Xu Xiansu just stared at the frantic, demanding girl and smiled wryly.

The expression was filled with endless, bittersweet fondness.

How could she blame the child? She had been the exact same way—ruthless, fiercely independent, constantly clawing for every scrap of strength because she knew all too well that in this cruel cultivation universe, weakness was the only true sin.

So with the last vestiges of her fading essence, Spirit Xu Xiansu extended a finger.

Her translucent index finger, glowing with the pristine, incandescent brilliance of a newborn star, tapped against the empty air.

SHING!

A thin golden strand shot towards Xu Xiansu’s forehead!

The light was blinding, no thicker than a single strand of silk, yet it radiated an ancient, suffocating density that made the surrounding space warp into miniature gravitational rings.

It bypassed the physical plane entirely, piercing through Xu Xiansu’s skull, diving directly into the deepest, most protected sanctum of her mind and soul.

Xu Xiansu’s body instantly seized, her orange eyes rolled back for a fraction of a heartbeat, a stifled gasp tearing from her throat as an unfathomably pure heat settled into the center of her sea of consciousness.

The strand of golden light curled like a slumbering celestial dragon around her soul, radiating a gentle, rhythmic warmth that made her meridians sing with profound, terrifying vitality.

”That is a strand of Immortal Qi,” Spirit Xu Xiansu explained, her voice growing fainter, as delicate as falling snow upon water. ”In this era, the gates of the Immortal World remain sealed, and true immortal energy does not exist beneath this firmament. Once you have reached Supreme Emperor realm, you can refine it and try to breakthrough to Red Dust Immortal on your own.”

The gift was beyond mortal valuation.

In the current Great Thousand Realms, even the ancestors of ancient holy lands and Immortal Clans who had lived for tens of thousands of years were trapped at the peak of the mortal realm, doomed to watch their vitality rot away because they lacked the catalyst to bridge the divide between mortality and immortality.

That single strand of pure, unpolluted Immortal Qi was a guaranteed key—a seed of true immortality that would allow Xu Xiansu to shatter the mortal ceiling without needing to wait for the celestial gates to open.

Spirit Xu Xiansu then turned towards Xia Mengyao.

The sword wielding maiden flinched slightly, tears still pooling in the corners of her eyes as she looked upon the fading specter of the woman she had considered a sister across lifetimes.

The spirit woman looked at Xia Mengyao with profound, unreserved tenderness, and pointed a finger at her.

HUMMMMMMM—!

From the tip of her disintegrating finger, a glowing blue orb immediately shot from her finger to her forehead.

The orb was breathtaking—a swirling, radiant sphere of deep twilight indigo and crystalline sky blue starlight, humming with the boundless sword intent of a peerless swordsman.

It was filled with millions of microscopic sword runes, shifting like a living galaxy of celestial blades.

The blue orb sank effortlessly between Xia Mengyao’s brows.

GASP!

Xia Mengyao gasped softly, her hands flying to her temples, yet she didn’t feel pain, instead, a vast, warm ocean of martial comprehension and muscle memory blossomed within her mind.

Complex, breathtaking sword forms she had never seen before, spatial footwork that danced through dimensions, and the hardened, unshakeable will of a woman who had fought on the front lines of cosmic extinction washed through her spiritual sea, gently imprinting itself upon her very marrow.

”That is what’s left behind by your alternate future self,” Spirit Xu Xiansu whispered, her eyes softening as she watched the young maiden absorb the legacy.

”She fell defending the southern gate of our empire, but before her soul dissolved, she sealed her complete sword comprehension within my ring, hoping that one day, she might pass her blade to someone worthy. I’m leaving it to you.”

Xia Mengyao’s lips parted, a single tear spilling over her porcelain cheek, splashing onto the cold star-jade of her scabbard.

”Sister Xiansu... I... I won’t let her down. I swear it on my sword.”

Spirit Xu Xiansu nodded gently, looking upon the two girls one last time.

She observed Xia Mengyao, clutching her sword with newfound, awakened resolve, ready to grow into a great swordsman of this generation.

She looked at her younger self, standing there with her chest heaving, the black dagger held tightly, her orange eyes blazing with insatiable ambition and the unshakeable determination to tear down any obstacle that dared cross her path.

They were so young. So vibrant.

Untouched by the ashes of dead stars, unburdened by the crushing, lonely silence of an extinct multiverse.

Their future was unwritten, like a blank, pristine scroll waiting to be carved by their own hands.

Slowly, the spirit woman raised her head, before looking at the sky.

Her translucent gaze pierced through the bruised clouds of the secret realm, soaring past the stars, drifting into the boundless, infinite void where time and space ceased to have meaning.

In the quiet sanctuary of her dying mind, the faces of those she had loved rushed back to her with breathtaking, incandescent brilliance.

She saw Huo Yue, laughing heartily while tossing a jug of scorched celestial wine across a campfire, her crimson robes dancing in the flames.

She saw the elders of the Shen Clan, raising their ancient golden banners with pride.

She saw the comrades who had bled, the disciples who had cheered, and above all, she saw the black-robed young man whose cold, golden pupils had looked down upon her with that quiet, eternal warmth right before he threw his body over hers to push her through the collapsing void.

’I found one, Haoran.’ she whispered silently into the endless expanse of her memories. ’I found the timeline where we are still alive. Unfortunately...I won’t be there to see it.’

The world’s rejection was too much. She had used all most of her powers just to enter, and depending on where the world will throw her, she will probably have to wander the infinite void once more.

She can’t even find another host to anchor herself anymore since she was now way too weak.

But even so...

’...This should be enough, right?’

Thinking of the people she had lost...

The ancient, agonizing sorrow that had weighed down her soul for millions of years finally, completely unraveled.

She smiled.

It was a smile of pure, breathtaking liberation—a radiant, unblemished expression of peace that erased every scar, every war, and every lonely epoch from her face.

Then... she disappeared.

SHUUUUUU—

The last motes of starlight dissolved into the morning air, scattering like glittering diamond dust upon the damp mountain breeze, until not a single trace of the ancient Immortal Emperor remained beneath the sky.

The gorge fell into suffocating quiet.

The damp leaves rustled softly in the wind.

Below the weeping willow, Yan Xiao’s blood slowly seeped into the gravel, turning the dark mud a deep, oxidized crimson.

Xia Mengyao slowly rose to her feet, her hand resting upon the pommel of her sword, her eyes carrying a profound, contemplative depth that had never been there before.

The blue orb in her sea of consciousness was already beginning to weave its refined sword intent into her dantians, fundamentally altering the trajectory of her cultivation.

Beside her, Xu Xiansu remained motionless for three long breaths, her fingers pressed lightly against her own forehead where the strand of Immortal Qi was quietly slumbering.

Then, slowly, deliberately, she twirled the dagger in her hand, the blade catching the cold morning light before she smoothly slid it back into the hidden sheath beneath her embroidered robes.

She glanced down at Yan Xiao’s headless corpse with cold, dismissive indifference, before turning her back on the ruined cave.

”Let’s go, Mengyao,” Xu Xiansu said, her melodious voice ringing out with that familiar, haughty, and unyielding arrogance, her vibrant orange eyes burning with the sovereign wheels of the sun and moon.

”We have a trial to finish... and an entire sky to butcher.”