Infinite Save: I Cultivate Immortality Through Reincarnation

A thousand years ago, Kong Yang had accidentally glimpsed the secrets of heaven, learning that the Kongshan Sect would face annihilation nine thousand years later.

The culprit behind all of this was a ninth-realm great demon that had wreaked havoc centuries ago and was now lurking in the shadows, dormant and sleeping.

As a cultivator of the Immortal Ascension Realm, Kong Yang naturally understood what cause and effect represented.

An immutable beginning and an immutable end.

To forcibly alter the outcome, one could only bear the backlash that came with changing cause and effect.

Kong Yang did not hesitate for a moment.

As the Ascended Steward of the Kongshan Sect, it was his duty to shoulder this karmic backlash for the sake of the sect’s future.

But in the end, he had been too arrogant.

Because he was not qualified to bear the karmic burden of the Kongshan Sect’s annihilation nine thousand years later. With his Dao Basis severely wounded by the backlash, Kong Yang lacked the strength to exterminate this half-step Immortal Ascension ninth-realm great demon. In the end, he could only seal the Black Flood Dragon’s soul within the Demon Suppression Stone and sink its body into the Jieyou Abyss.

With his Dao Basis heavily worn down, Kong Yang grew weaker by the day. He knew he did not have much longer to live. His only option was to try and completely sever all the cause and effect he had accumulated, stripping it from himself entirely.

But he had no idea what consequences this would bring.

To this end, Kong Yang created a secret art.

Either succeed, or fall.

These were the only two outcomes Kong Yang could face.

True Person Caiyun knew all too well just how difficult it would be to completely sever every strand of cause and effect he had touched. One misstep and he would perish, body and soul obliterated.

Yet he was willing to try.

Because even if he died, relying on that forbidden art, he would still have the chance to re-enter the cycle of reincarnation and cultivate anew.

Moreover, even if he perished, the Kongshan Sect would not lack successors. Under Senior Brother Ren’s protection, Ruan Shu would eventually take his place...

”Martial Uncle Kong!”

Sitting inside Qingchan Hall, staring at the familiar figure outside the door, Kong Yang’s gaze was hollow.

After seven days and seven nights, Kong Yang handed the handwritten manuscript of the secret art he had created to Ruan Shu.

Not long after, he received word of Ruan Shu’s death—her soul scattered, never to return.

Kong Yang sat alone in Qingchan Hall for a very, very long time again.

Given his nature, he would have directly chosen to forcibly activate the secret art to sever the cause and effect.

But...

Kong Yang looked up at the sky, at the row of cloud cranes flying above the sea of clouds.

He chose to compromise.

Five hundred years later.

The third-generation Ascended Steward of the Kongshan Sect, True Person Caiyun, Kong Yang, fell on Qingchan Peak.

Within those five hundred years, Kong Yang had meticulously planned and worked tirelessly.

He elevated the Kongshan Sect to a position where it seemed poised to surpass the other four great sects, achieving three Dao Union cultivators within a single sect.

...

Chen Yan sat inside the Profound Scripture Hall, looking at the handwritten manuscript left by Kong Yang that Ren Anhe, the Supreme Pivot Elder of the Kongshan Sect, had dug up from his disciple’s grave not long ago.

He roughly skimmed through it. This secret art fully incorporated True Person Caiyun’s understanding of cause and effect. Although it was rather crude, it did seem feasible—or at least, there was a certain possibility of success.

Even if that possibility was minuscule.

Looking at the handwriting on the page, Chen Yan could roughly imagine the state of mind Kong Yang must have been in a thousand years ago when his Dao Basis was damaged and his condition was worsening as he created this art.

”Instructor Lu, oh Instructor Lu...”

Chen Yan wore a half-smile as he sighed and shook his head.

After learning that this domain’s heaven and earth were far more ancient, with a history stretching back countless eons, and after experiencing everything he had with Mr. You in this era, Chen Yan now felt a complex mix of emotions toward the various Ascended cultivators who, eight thousand years later, had tried to kill him or simply treat him as a vessel for cause and effect.

It was not hatred, but rather a kind of self-mocking helplessness, as if lamenting, ”Why are we so quick to turn on each other?”

Five years had already passed.

It was time to take the next step.

Following the handwritten manuscript left by Kong Yang a thousand years ago, Chen Yan began attempting to use that secret art to pull out the karmic burden of the Ultimate Sage of Imperial Void that he carried.

Because of the Emptiness Annihilation Art, although Chen Yan was currently only a cultivator at the peak of the Divine Ability Realm, he still had a vague understanding of what cause and effect truly meant.

He could use his spiritual sense to see the threads of cause and effect tangled around his back.

They were far more chaotic and complex than any threads of cause and effect he had ever glimpsed on anyone else.

Among the multicolored threads of cause and effect, the most chaotic and intricate white thread was the karmic burden of the Ultimate Sage of Imperial Void.

He began trying to sever the Ultimate Sage of Imperial Void’s karmic thread from the tangled mass wrapped around him. The moment that white thread was pulled slightly free from the chaotic karmic web, an unimaginable agony began to ravage Chen Yan’s spiritual sense.

He slid off his seat entirely, curling up inside the Profound Scripture Hall.

Chen Yan was numb to pain. Or rather, ever since those days in the outer court training grounds of the Kongshan Sect, when he had been tortured countless times by Huo Mu across infinite reincarnations, he had long grown accustomed to pain.

But this was different.

The pain did not attack his physical body, nor even his spiritual sense.

It struck directly at his soul.

Like his soul was being torn apart.

”Why put yourself through this?”

A somewhat familiar voice seemed to come from somewhere impossibly distant, yet also from very close by.

Chen Yan struggled to lift his eyes. His vision was blurred by the excruciating pain, and he could only vaguely make out a figure clad in white daoist robes.

The Ultimate Sage of Imperial Void, Bai Chen.

Or rather, a faint wisp of ”consciousness” born from this six-thousand-year-long thread of cause and effect.

”You now stand at the pinnacle of this domain’s heaven and earth. Though you have not yet become a Sage, you are already surpassing one, capable of governing this domain. Why must you still endure such suffering?”

Bai Chen smiled.

”And then what?”

Forcing himself through the searing pain, Chen Yan managed to speak.

”Then what what?”

Bai Chen replied.

”Govern this domain. Then what?”

”What more do you want?”

”Then why did you leave Imperial Void Province?”

Chen Yan pressed on.

Bai Chen was silent for about half a breath, then let out a soft laugh:

”I am a Sage. And you?”

Chen Yan said nothing.

”As a Sage, I have obtained everything I could ever want, so naturally I seek higher pursuits. But you? An ant below the Immortal Ascension Realm, who managed to gain the right to govern an entire domain through underhanded means. What more could you possibly be unsatisfied with?

”Stop here. Don’t go looking for more trouble.”

Bai Chen said.

”And if I refuse?”

Chen Yan replied.

Hearing this, Bai Chen—or rather, this ”residual shadow” born from the six-thousand-year thread of cause and effect—showed an easygoing smile:

”Then suit yourself.”

And with that, the figure of the Ultimate Sage of Imperial Void vanished.

In the Profound Scripture Hall, only Chen Yan remained, forcibly enduring the soul-rending pain.

Then, he once again pulled free another strand of cause and effect.

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