Myth Beyond Heaven

Zhou Xuan opened his mouth to respond, but Yun Lintian noticed how exhausted they were—their divine energy depleted, their bodies on the verge of collapse after a hundred years of survival in this hellish place.

With a wave of his hand, an emerald light enveloped the three survivors. The divine energy surged through them, repairing damaged meridians, replenishing lost vitality, and even reversing some of their premature aging.

Zhou Xuan gasped as color returned to his cheeks. Mei Ling stared at her rejuvenated hands in disbelief. Bai Xue touched her face, tears welling in her eyes.

“T-This…” Zhou Xuan’s voice trembled. “Senior, you… you healed us?”

Yun Lintian didn’t answer. Instead, he flicked his sleeve, summoning a carved wooden table and chairs. He sat down gracefully and gestured for them to join.

Yue Zhihe wordlessly poured tea and placed plates of spiritual fruits and cakes before the stunned trio.

For Zhou Xuan, Mei Ling, and Bai Xue, this simple act of kindness after a century of torment was overwhelming. The two women broke down completely, tears streaming down their faces as they clutched the teacups with shaking hands.

“Thank you… thank you…” Bai Xue sobbed.

Mei Ling couldn’t even speak, her shoulders shaking with silent cries.

Zhou Xuan took a deep, steadying breath before bowing deeply over the table. “Senior’s grace is like the heavens. This Zhou Xuan will never forget it.”

Yun Lintian sipped his tea. “Talk.”

Zhou Xuan nodded hastily and began his account.

“Those beasts Senior just killed—we call them Temporal Beasts,” Zhou Xuan explained. “They’re everywhere in these ruins. We don’t know where they came from, but they’ve adapted perfectly to this distorted environment. They hunt in packs and grow stronger over time by absorbing temporal energy.”

He took a shaky sip of tea before continuing. “But the beasts are just one danger. There are other cultivators trapped here—some for thousands, even tens of thousands of years. Many have gone mad from the isolation and now hunt newcomers for resources or… just for sport.”

Bai Xue shuddered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Originally… there were ten of us. Seven died—three to beasts, four to… to other cultivators.”

Mei Ling clenched her fists. “The worst are the ancient True Gods. Some have been here so long they’ve become monsters. They set traps, ambush groups, and…” Her voice broke.

Zhou Xuan took over. “The strongest among them is an entity called The Time Eater. He was already a peak True God when he entered millennia ago. Now… he’s something else entirely. He devours other cultivators to sustain himself.”

Yue Zhihe’s grip tightened around her teacup. “How have you avoided these threats for a century?”

“By hiding,” Bai Xue admitted shamefully. “Moving constantly. Never staying in one place more than a few days. Eating whatever we could find—even if it aged us.”

Zhou Xuan added, “The ruins have some safe zones—places where time flows normally for a while. We’d rotate between them, but…” He gestured to the shifting landscape around them. “Even those disappear eventually.”

Yue Zhihe set down her teacup, her expression serious. “Is there truly no way to leave this place?”

Zhou Xuan smiled bitterly. “From what we’ve learned over a century, there are only two ways. It’s either master the temporal laws governing these ruins… or crack the formation sealing it.” He shook his head. “For ordinary cultivators like us, both are impossible. Even True Gods are helpless here.”

He glanced at Yun Lintian with genuine regret. “Senior… I’m afraid you may be trapped here as well.”

Mei Ling, who had been silently sipping her tea, suddenly slammed her cup down. Anger flashed in her eyes. “Senior Yun must have been deceived into coming here! No one would willingly enter this hell if they knew the truth!”

Yun Lintian remained calm, absorbing their words. The information wasn’t extensive, but it confirmed his initial observation—this entire forest was part of an ancient formation, one so complex that even Primordial Era deities might struggle to dismantle it.

Linlin and Qingqing, however, seemed entirely unbothered. They continued munching on spiritual fruits, completely confident that Yun Lintian would find a solution.

Yun Lintian looked at Zhou Xuan. “How did your group enter in the first place?”

Bai Xue answered softly, “Our Flying Sword Sect only planned to gather herbs near the perimeter… Our sect master was injured, and we needed a specific plant to heal him.”

Her voice trembled as she continued. “We never imagined the perimeter would be just as dangerous. By the time we realized… it was too late.”

Yun Lintian nodded slightly. “Has anyone ever left?”

Zhou Xuan hesitated. “There’s… a rumor. Before we entered, we heard that the Celestial Pavilion’s previous Pavilion Master managed to escape.”

Yun Lintian’s eyebrows rose slightly. That was unexpected.

Zhou Xuan continued, “But no one knows how she did it. Some say she passed the Creator’s Trial. Others claim she sacrificed dozens of disciples to force open the exit.”

Yun Lintian stored this information away. There was nothing more he needed from their story for now.

“These safe zones you mentioned—how do you find them?”

Zhou Xuan immediately brightened, eager to be useful. “They’re marked by silver-leafed trees—the only stable plants in this forest. Their roots anchor the surrounding space, creating temporary pockets of normal time.”

He dug into his tattered robe and produced a small compass. “This detects temporal fluctuations. The needle spins wildly near distortions but stabilizes when pointing toward safe zones.”

Yun Lintian examined the compass. The craftsmanship was crude, likely made from scavenged materials, but the principle was sound.

Bai Xue added, “The safe zones never last more than a month though. After that… they vanish or turn deadly.”

Yun Lintian stood, the table and chairs vanishing with a wave of his hand. “We’ll head to the nearest safe zone first.”

Zhou Xuan and his companions scrambled to their feet, hope shining in their eyes for the first time in decades.

As they prepared to move out, the forest around them suddenly darkened. The air grew heavy, pressing down like an invisible weight.

Qingqing’s ears twitched. “Big Brother Yun… something bad is coming.”

Linlin’s fur stood on end. “Yeah! Really bad!”

Then—

CRACK.

The ground split open mere feet away, and a skeletal hand clawed its way to the surface.

Zhou Xuan’s face went deathly pale. “N-No… it’s him!”

More hands emerged, followed by emaciated figures in tattered robes—their eyes glowing with malevolent hunger. At their forefront rose a towering skeleton wrapped in remnants of golden armor, its hollow eye sockets fixed on Yun Lintian.

The Time Eater.

His voice rasped like grinding bones:

“Newcomers… how delightful.”