Chapter 519 - 1: Breaking the Realm
The Sanctuary.
The Half-Plane.
Above the eternally flowing, milky-white sea of clouds, deep within a palace built of mist, lay a relatively open cloud terrace.
Margaret and Othilia stood side by side.
The former still wore her black dress, but her eyes betrayed an unconcealable exhaustion and anxiety.
The latter was dressed in pure, immaculate white, her jet-black eyes as calm and still as a placid lake, as if the earth-shattering events outside had failed to stir the slightest ripple within her heart.
Not far in front of them, a strange fault line appeared in the scenery of the cloud sea.
It was a massive void. No clouds flowed, no light shifted—only a blackness so silent it was unnerving, as if it connected to some unknowable yonder.
Suddenly, an unusual disturbance rippled through the milky-white clouds at the edge of the terrace.
A thin figure dressed in a plain, white linen robe appeared there without a sound.
His salt-and-pepper hair was combed immaculately, and his gray eyes were as deep as an ancient well. It was Noe VII.
"What are you doing here?"
Othilia’s voice rang out, cold and direct, devoid of any courtesy.
Almost as her words faded, the space behind her distorted slightly. A fleeting glimpse of an immense, blurry humanoid phantom—composed entirely of some cold metal, like a dormant behemoth—appeared before vanishing again.
Margaret said nothing, her sharp gaze fixed on the former Pope. The Enchanting Witch’s intuition allowed her to keenly sense he bore no hostility, but a lack of hostility didn’t mean they were on the same side.
Noe VII seemed completely unaware of the Mechanical Spirit phantom that had flashed behind Othilia. He took two slow steps forward. His gaze lingered on Margaret’s face for a moment, as if seeing through to the deep-seated anxiety in her eyes, before he turned to Othilia and spoke in a calm voice:
"I did not come to argue with you. I came to help you."
"Help?" Margaret reacted instantly, her dark pupils flashing with a sudden light. She couldn’t help but take a half-step forward. "Could it be... are you referring to..."
Noe VII gave a slight nod, his steady voice echoing across the cloud terrace.
"That’s right. Not long ago, the ’Balance Keeper’ of the Old Realm—the being who hid behind the curtain, wielding the authority of balance and interfering with the Continent’s cycles of prosperity and decline—has died. He died under the rules of the Old Realm."
"Hah," Othilia let out a derisive sneer. "Help? Noe VII, if you truly intended to, why didn’t you show up when... when he needed you most? Now that the dust has settled, you show up here with your hypocritical offers of help!"
"Othilia," Margaret turned to the white-robed Witch beside her. "The Holy Throne has his own position and considerations. Now is not the time to argue about the rights and wrongs of the past. The Balance Keeper is dead. What we need most now is to seize the future."
She took a deep breath, her gaze returning to Noe VII.
"Holy Throne, does your offer of help mean you are willing to lend us a hand in truly sending the ’Withered Heart’ out of the Sanctuary?"
Noe VII nodded slowly, his gaze drifting out beyond the terrace to the boundless, seemingly unchanging sea of milky-white clouds.
"A hero’s end should not be a desolate fall. I am willing to help you send a sliver of possibility to where it ought to go."
Othilia fell silent for a moment.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand Margaret’s persistence, nor was she ignorant of Noe VII’s position. In the end, she let out a cold snort.
"Fine. Since you’ve finally decided to make a move, old man, then stop wasting our time."
Noe VII said no more.
He took a step forward, slowly raised his withered right hand, and clenched it into a fist. Then, he threw a punch toward the empty void!
A burst of golden light, condensed to the absolute limit, erupted from his fist!
It shot straight toward the deepest nothingness at the center of the void.
In almost the same instant, Othilia’s eyes narrowed, and the space behind her twisted violently!
The immense phantom of the metallic Mechanical Spirit reappeared, clearer than before!
It raised a giant arm made entirely of cold alloy and, with a ferocious power that could crush anything, followed the golden light to strike the exact same point!
Margaret didn’t hesitate either. A green light, like a swirling galaxy, erupted from her black pupils.
The surrounding sea of milky-white clouds seemed to be pulled by an invisible hand, converging madly before her!
In an instant, a ball of cloud Energy, so condensed it was almost solid, formed in front of her.
With a flash of green in her eyes, this sphere of clouds also shot toward the center of the void with all its might!
VMMMM!
A deep, muffled boom exploded from the center of the void!
The edges of the void began to tremble violently, letting out a groaning creak as if under immense strain.
At the center of that deepest nothingness, a tiny "fissure," shimmering with streams of Chaotic Energy, finally struggled into existence!
The fissure was small and extremely unstable. Its edges continuously crumbled and tried to reseal, as if it would vanish completely in the next second.
"Now!" A sharp glint shot from Margaret’s eyes. The "Withered Heart" appeared in her left hand, and she thrust it forward!
The grayish crystal transformed into a faint glimmer of starlight. As if alive, it followed the path of least resistance through the turbulent Energy within the fissure and slipped through with incredible agility!
...
The moment Murphy’s figure merged with the core of the Mind Furnace and the Crimson sword light streaked across the sky, his "self" had already begun to irreversibly dissipate.
To become one with the world, to embody the Dao Rhyme of all living things—this was a necessary path for a Cultivator to form a Golden Core, and also an incredibly perilous ultimate test.
When an ordinary Cultivator attempted to break through to the Golden Core, they needed immense willpower and an unwavering heart for the Path to anchor their sense of self. Only by maintaining their true nature amidst the deluge of countless Dao Rhymes could they have a chance of survival.
But Murphy’s situation was even more unique.
He was suffering from the Dao Transformation secretly catalyzed by the Ironspine Duke, and his own spirit, will, and emotions did not meet the requirements for attempting to form a Golden Core.
Only his Dao Transformation Level was already nearing one hundred percent.
Forcing a breakthrough would only lead to death.
But a simple death was not what Murphy wanted.
He absolutely had to make the Ironspine Duke die!
It had nothing to do with anything else. Their Paths were simply different.
So, since his "self" could no longer be maintained by its own internal continuity and logic, he would rely on an external, pre-established "scaffold."
As far back as eleven years ago, at the very inception of the Mind Furnace, Murphy had drawn upon his past life’s memories and his understanding of the essence of "logic" and "computation" to secretly initiate a foundational research project called the Cognitive Highest Anchoring Protocol.
Its core purpose was to attempt to convert his own thought patterns, decision-making logic, and even parts of his core memories and emotional responses into a type of artificial intelligence model through complex computer code.
Even after eleven years of research and development, this model was still riddled with flaws.
It couldn’t truly comprehend the continuity of "self." Its decisions were based on pre-set complex logical chains and weighted calculations, lacking any real "intuition" or "flashes of inspiration."
It couldn’t handle unknowns that fell outside its logical framework or pre-set database.
In essence, it was a highly-simulated replica of Murphy’s mind, not him himself.
More importantly, it was extremely dependent on the Mind Furnace’s vast computational power. If disconnected, the model would collapse.
The original intent behind its creation was to run this model using the Dharma Artifact’s abilities to attempt the Golden Core breakthrough in his stead, should he undergo complete Dao Transformation.
But the Ironspine Duke didn’t give Murphy that much time.
The model wasn’t perfected, and perhaps it was beyond Murphy’s skills to ever perfect it.
However, this technology provided Murphy with another option in his current predicament.
Right now, at the very instant his own consciousness was completely dissipating due to Dao Transformation.
An "emergency mechanism" that could instantly take over his body, inherit his final and most intense obsession, and execute a pre-set final command.
[Activating Cognitive Highest Anchoring Protocol...]
[Subject consciousness integrity detected below critical threshold... Extreme trigger conditions met...]
[Accessing backup thought model... Loading "Murphy-Alpha" personality data...]
[Warning: Model has critical flaws. Logical closed-loop construction rate at only 87.3%. Emotion simulation module severely distorted. Risk of personality drift and logical collapse during long-term operation...]
[Environmental Scan: Subject’s Energy structure undergoing violent transition. Unobservable Material Transformation rate climbing rapidly...]
[Executing predetermined protocol: Assuming control of subject’s Energy authority, stabilizing core Dao Pattern structure, locking final command—]
And so, at the very moment the Ironspine Duke thought victory was his and he was about to completely obliterate Murphy, a light blending Dark Gold and Crimson burst from the shattered sword. The Mind Furnace, following Murphy’s final obsession, forcibly drained the last remnants of his body and the Dharma Artifact’s Origin to unleash an attack infinitely close to that of a true Golden Core Cultivator!
This strike wasn’t overwhelmingly powerful, but it happened to interfere with the Ironspine Duke’s control over himself.
As a result, the Ironspine Duke failed to complete his self-sealing in the final ten seconds.
The moment those "ten seconds" were up, the repulsion from the Old Realm’s rules descended with a roar, like the most merciless grindstone.
"NO—!!!"
The resplendent figure twisted violently and disintegrated under the crushing weight of the rules. In the end, along with his indignant roar, he was reduced to the most basic Energy particles and dissipated completely between heaven and earth.
He didn’t even get the chance to flee to the New Realm and eke out a meager existence.
After unleashing this tide-turning blow, the Mind Furnace followed its pre-set instructions. While containing the dispersing Energy to avoid damaging the Holy City, it managed to gather Murphy’s shattered body, which had already begun to scatter due to Dao Transformation, and performed a "partition."
One part, which was relatively stable and had the lowest Dao Transformation Level, was forcibly condensed into the streak of Crimson light that shot toward the mountains behind the Holy City.
The other part, which was already deeply or even completely transformed by the Dao and was experiencing a severe rejection by the Old Realm’s rules, was swept up by the Rule Power and involuntarily flung toward the New Realm.
Just as this part of him—now a blurry mass of Energy, half Dark Gold and half Crimson—was struggling through the spatial rift torn open by the Rule Power and falling toward the unknown New Realm...
A faint streak of light, a grayish gleam mixed with starlight, shot out like a comet that had overcome countless obstacles. It emerged from a small, extremely unstable spatial fissure that had just opened to the side and rear!
It was none other than the Withered Heart, sent forth by Margaret and the others with all their might!
This strange crystal, containing the legacy of the ancient Necromancy School and capable of forcibly stabilizing or even enhancing one’s Spirit Origin, seemed to sense a familiar, faint fluctuation within the turbulent mass of Energy ahead. Without hesitation, it accelerated and, like a fledgling returning to its nest, plunged headlong into the chaotic Energy!
With a flash of light, the Withered Heart was completely absorbed.
The core of the turbulent, half-Dark Gold, half-Crimson mass of Energy, which had been flying passively, seemed to brighten for an instant, and its form underwent a minute change.
Faintly, it was as if a more solid phantom of a small sword, about three inches long and covered in swirling patterns of Dark Gold and Crimson, had coalesced within it.
But this phantom was fleeting. The next moment, the entire mass of Energy plunged deep into the bizarre, unknown spatial channel ahead and vanished without a trace.