The phrase “fleeing for one’s life” was something Gu Chengming had only ever seen in novels before.

He never imagined that one day he would become the subject of that phrase.

The dark red wasteland receded rapidly beneath his feet as more than a dozen Fourth Realm pressures surged after them like a tide. Emperor Bai ran beside Gu Chengming, her white hair trailing behind her in a long afterimage.

She wasn’t panicked, but she wasn’t running slowly either.

“Emperor Gu, those two on the left are about to catch up!”

“I see them.”

Before Gu Chengming’s voice could even fade, two figures on the left flank began to shift their formation to flank them. He made a split-second decision, and five flying swords erupted from his body. The Entanglement Technique’s sword intent wove a seemingly airtight web between the two projections.

The projections’ movements indeed stalled for a moment.

Fortunately, the terrain of the Fallen Immortal Abyss was complex enough.

Relying on his quick assessment of the secret realm’s structure, Gu Chengming led Emperor Bai into a sword-scarred canyon left behind by an ancient war. The canyon was narrow and winding, and the residual sword intent on the walls on both sides repelled anyone who approached, the projections being no exception. This gave them a moment to catch their breath.

…

The two of them maneuvered through the scattered rocks at the bottom of the canyon for several hundred yards before finally stopping temporarily in a naturally formed collapsed cave. The entrance was half-hidden by fallen rocks. Occasionally, the fluctuations of spiritual pressure from projections patrolling outside would pass by, but there were no signs of them closing in for the time being.

Gu Chengming leaned against the stone wall and panted for a few breaths.

In his heart, he had already reached a conclusion: clearly, those projections were being controlled by someone.

And if all of this was the work of the Red Dust Immortal, then in the timeline before Huichuan, he must have done something that the man utterly loathed.

Otherwise, why would an existence of at least the Sixth Realm go to such great lengths against a Third Realm cultivator?

But more importantly, he hadn’t made a move personally.

In other words, the Red Dust Immortal was likely currently “trapped” within this secret realm, unable to act directly due to some restriction. However, he could manipulate the projections, spiritual veins, and laws within the secret realm to achieve his goals indirectly.

Gu Chengming ran this deduction through his mind twice, and after confirming the logic was self-consistent, he set it aside for the moment.

“Emperor Gu,” Emperor Bai suddenly spoke, her tone a bit strange.

Gu Chengming looked up at her. The light in the cave was dim, but Emperor Bai’s eyes seemed to have their own light source, making them exceptionally prominent in the darkness. “What is it?”

Emperor Bai scratched her cheek, seemingly organizing her words. “Um, Emperor Gu, that knock-off version of me we fought before…”

Emperor Bai made a fist-sized gesture, then felt it wasn’t right and changed it to a gesture indicating a human shape. “That one, the one that looks exactly like me and knocks me down with one punch.”

“Yes?”

“She seems to have disappeared now.”

Gu Chengming was stunned for a moment, and Emperor Bai’s gaze drifted to the side, looking a bit guilty.

Gu Chengming stared at her for two breaths. “You want to go fight her?”

“I do not!” Emperor Bai denied reflexively, then added in a lowered voice, “…I only want to a little bit.”

Gu Chengming sighed. “Emperor Bai, is this the time to be thinking about that? The pursuers outside haven’t dispersed yet—”

“No, Emperor Gu.” Emperor Bai was rarely anxious as she reached out and tugged on his sleeve. “I’m serious, she’s really gone. You’ll see if you go look.”

Gu Chengming skeptically projected his consciousness into the system interface; the entrance to the room for the Hundred Bones Resonating of Love was still there.

In the next second, the dark red training ground spread out in his vision as expected. The gale howled, and the iron-grey sky remained the same.

But the center of the training ground was empty; there was no phantom.

Gu Chengming exited the interface and opened his eyes.

“She really is gone.”

He frowned and thought for two breaths, unable to come up with a reasonable explanation for the moment.

When Emperor Bai materialized, her technique panel was locked by the system, which meant the power of the entity “Emperor Bai” was extracted from his Sea of Consciousness and turned into the living person before him.

But what about the phantom in the room for the Hundred Bones Resonating of Love?

That phantom represented the “limit that Emperor Bai could reach in a theoretical state.”

According to previous logic, it should be a challenge mechanism that existed independently of the technique panel and theoretically should not be affected by the materialization of Emperor Bai’s main body.

But it had indeed vanished. Where did it go?

A suspicion faintly rose in Gu Chengming’s heart, but the suspicion was too far-fetched, so he didn’t voice it for the time being.

“Don’t worry about this for now.”

Emperor Bai gave an “oh.” Although her face clearly said “I’m still very concerned,” she still reined in her thoughts.

“Whatever Emperor Gu says.”

…

Deep within the secret realm. Within the endless void, the Red Dust Immortal sat on a stone platform condensed from his own will, his folding fan resting on his knees and his eyes slightly closed.

His state was far more complex than what could be observed from the outside.

To be precise, at this moment, he did not entirely exist in this world.

The price of Huichuan was heavier than anyone could imagine.

From the moment he reversed karma and rolled back time, he himself had fallen into an extremely subtle superposition state—both a living person and a dead person; both here and not here; belonging to this timeline yet also not belonging to it.

History and karma overlapped and coincided within him, like two transparent sheets of drawing paper forcibly stacked together, their outlines ambiguous and their colors blurred.

Of course, this was not the consequence of a single Huichuan, but the consequence of a certain battle from countless years ago.

He had changed the outcome of that battle, but he had also trapped himself in his current situation.

As long as he did not take the initiative to act, this superposition state could be barely maintained.

Once he acted, the superposition would instantly collapse, and he would be forced to face a definite result of either life or death.

And deducing from the current situation, the probability of death far outweighed that of life.

Therefore, he could not act personally, but he could use time and karma to set the stage.

The historical projections in the secret realm were essentially just replicas of spiritual vein memories, without independent consciousness or souls—merely segments of a recording being played repeatedly. All he did was switch those recordings from a loop to real-time control.

He endowed them with the instinct for action, designated a target, and let them go.

As for that young man named Gu Chengming—

One of the side effects of Huichuan was that he could not directly observe Gu Chengming’s real-time movements.

The karma lines on that young man had become blurred after Huichuan, as if they had been deliberately smeared.

He could only infer the other party’s position and actions through the indirect information fed back by the projections.

But that was enough, the Red Dust Immortal was thinking, when his brow suddenly twitched.

—One projection had gone out of control.

He could sense the existence of that projection and that it was active, but all the commands he sent to it were like stones sinking into the ocean, as if an invisible barrier was cutting off his will.

What concerned him even more was that this projection did not belong to the group he had previously awakened; it had woken up on its own.

The Red Dust Immortal opened his eyes and tapped his fingertips twice on the fan ribs.

He stood up and walked toward that direction.

…

When he found “it,” the scene was completely different from what he had expected.

In the void space, a figure stood alone in the darkness.

White hair, white training robes, her back turned toward him.

This image was too ordinary—no weathered daoist robes of an ancient great cultivator, no majestic presence of famous swords surrounding her. She looked like a disciple from some small, obscure sect who had run out after practicing without even having time to change her clothes.

Whether in the previous timeline or this one, there was no record of this white-haired girl in his memory. She did not belong to any known historical projection in the secret realm, nor did she seem like some ancient remnant he had overlooked.

But his attention was quickly seized by another matter.

—He couldn’t see through her.

The Red Dust Immortal slightly narrowed his eyes.

With his understanding of dao laws, an ordinary Fifth Realm cultivator was almost completely transparent before him; from their cultivation foundation to their technique style, he could see through them at a glance. But the white-haired girl before him was like a light source wrapped in thick mist.

He could feel that something was there.

But he was completely unable to identify what that thing was.

No boundary fluctuations. No spiritual energy flow. No traces of mana—even the basic characteristics of dao law operation did not exist.

The one standing there seemed to be just an ordinary mortal body, but the Red Dust Immortal’s intuition told him the person before him was very dangerous.

The Red Dust Immortal did not approach rashly. Instead, he mobilized the remnants of the secret realm’s laws and tentatively threw a wisp of karmic investigation toward that figure, but what he got was a void.

It wasn’t a void that had been obscured, but a void where karma lines simply did not exist, as if this person before him had never left any trace in the world and had never had a karmic connection with any person or thing.

She was not an existence of this world; she was a variable that had appeared out of thin air.

The Red Dust Immortal’s expression was finally no longer composed. He knew what kind of thing could produce such an effect.

A side effect of Huichuan, a variable spawned by the Heavenly Dao.

So it was here?

No.

In his understanding, the variables spawned by Huichuan were at most some insignificant butterfly effects—someone arriving a step early, an extra item appearing, or two people who were not supposed to meet happening to cross paths.

Although these changes were unpredictable, they were essentially minor and would not fundamentally shake the overall situation.

What was the situation now?

“Who are you?” the Red Dust Immortal spoke, his voice not loud but carrying far in the void.

The white-haired projection heard him and slowly turned her head. She didn’t answer his question but simply looked the Red Dust Immortal up and down. Her gaze lingered on his moon-white brocade robe and the folding fan in his hand for a moment, and then she sneered.

The Red Dust Immortal: “…”

What was she laughing at?

Before he could even ask, the other party had already moved.

A white afterimage exploded in his field of vision, and the Red Dust Immortal’s pupils shrank—

A hole was torn in the sleeve of his moon-white brocade robe by the aftershock of that surge of energy, the edges of the fabric as neat as if cut by a sharp blade. The Red Dust Immortal retreated half a step.

And when he looked closely, she had actually just yawned?

What kind of thing was this?

The white-haired projection stood still and tilted her head.

The Red Dust Immortal retreated to create distance and pointed his folding fan forward. The projections he had awakened behind him moved at his command, surging out of the void. One holding a sword, one holding a halberd, and one with a bow on its back—three Fourth Realm pressures bore down on the white-haired projection like mountains.

The sword-holding projection struck first, a sharp sword qi slashing horizontally, aimed straight at the white-haired projection’s waist. The white-haired projection didn’t even look at the sword qi, letting the opponent’s strike hit her body.

Then, the sword qi shattered, and the sword-holding projection was thrown back several yards by the counter-shock, the long sword in its hand letting out a wail. The halberd-holding and bow-carrying projections lunged forward simultaneously.

The white-haired projection turned and caught the halberd-holding projection’s overhead strike. Her five fingers gripped the halberd blade and instantly crushed it, causing another cluster of light points to dissipate.

The bow-carrying projection fired three arrows in succession from ten yards away, each arrow wrapped in spiritual energy and the intent of dao laws.

After the three arrows entered the white-haired projection’s blood qi domain, their speed visibly slowed, and finally, with three light “clinks,” they fell against her shoulder and forearm. The white-haired projection didn’t even bother to change her stride; she simply beckoned with her hand.

Without a word, the Red Dust Immortal raised his hand and summoned five more.

The white-haired projection seemed to have grown tired of it. She sat back down and then snapped her fingers.

All the projections instantly collapsed!

Immediately after re-condensing, they instead quietly retreated behind the white-haired projection.

The Red Dust Immortal: “?”

The Red Dust Immortal finally could no longer maintain his previous composure. He folded his fan and retreated.

—Better to run first!

The white-haired girl did not pursue him.

She stood where she was, surrounded by the wreckage of projections she had crushed or beaten into submission punch by punch. Several remaining ancient heroic spirits stood silently behind her in a submissive posture.

The girl watched the direction in which he fled, gave another sneer, and then her lips moved.

Across several hundred yards of void, no sound could be heard.

But the Red Dust Immortal clearly read her lip movements.

Word by word.

“Get lost. This place is taken over by this Emperor.”

The Red Dust Immortal’s figure stiffened at those words.

“I shall be taking over this place for the time being.”

Those were the exact words he had spoken to the people of the Mohist Sect through the water mirror.

And now, someone had thrown them back in his face, word for word, with an even more arrogant phrasing.

But he was completely helpless and cursed inwardly.

—What the hell is going on now?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep