The Last Sentinel

The heavy miasma and the blood-red setting sun dyed the entire Flower and Fruit Mountain a desolate dark red, and even the air was filled with an atmosphere of decay and desolation, making people feel suffocated.

Dust and gravel swirled gently in the wind as a figure slowly rose from the ruins, staggering and exhausted.

"Cough cough—" Qi Tian's lips were dry and cracked, his throat felt like it was on fire, and his heart was beating rapidly and erratically. He raised his hand to hold onto the crooked stone pillar beside him and slowly looked around.

The surroundings were eerily quiet; not even the chirping of insects or the calls of birds could be heard. Only the sound of the wind whistling through the broken walls and ruins could be heard.

The cave gate was half-collapsed, the heavy broken door lying on the ground, its surface covered with mottled cracks and charred marks, as if it had been smashed by a tremendous force.

A chilling wind swept through the cave, howling mournfully, as if countless souls were whispering tales of the past tragedy, sending shivers down one's spine.

Qi Tian walked slowly into the cave, his footsteps crunching over the pebbles. When he passed the collapsed stone gate of the Water Curtain Cave, his gaze suddenly stopped, his eyes fixed on the mottled couplet on the stone wall—the characters, though blurred by the erosion of time, were still discernible in their original outline.

"The Blessed Land of Flower and Fruit Mountain"

"Water Curtain Cave Heaven"

As Qi Tian's fingertips gently traced the uneven characters, a hint of melancholy flashed in his eyes. Inside the Water Curtain Cave, everything was desolate, not a single bone in sight, only rubble and cracked stone, a scene of utter devastation.

Only the Monkey King's throne stood quietly in the center of the cave. The stone throne was covered with scars and cracks of varying depths, yet it still exuded an innate majesty.

In a daze, one could almost see the arrogant figure of the demon saint, sitting upright, his brows and eyes sharp, looking down on all the gods in the heavens, his arrogance shaking the three realms.

But when he came to his senses, all that remained before him was a cold stone seat and a desolate landscape. The grotto of the once-great demon saint had ultimately become a silent, desolate tomb.

Qi Tian's Adam's apple bobbed as he muttered to himself, his voice filled with regret: "The legendary Water Curtain Cave of Flower and Fruit Mountain is also in ruins! What a pity!" He shook his head, the melancholy in his eyes gradually fading, replaced by a hint of determination. He searched the Water Curtain Cave carefully for a long time, but still couldn't find any useful traces or information, so he had no choice but to turn around and leave the ruins.

Stepping out of the Water Curtain Cave, the desolate scene outside was even more distressing.

At a glance, the dried-up waterfall cliff face is exposed, with dark water streaks resembling dried blood and tears from the heavens, winding and crisscrossing. The broken mountain gate leans askew; the once magnificent celestial paradise has long since become a desolate ruin. The thousand-foot waterfall has completely ceased, its former roaring and surging power gone, leaving only the mottled marks on the cliff face to tell of its former glory. Huge rocks are broken, stone pillars are crooked, and the stone walls are covered with the sword and arrow scars left by celestial armies' conquests; each mark hides the horror of that catastrophe.

What attracted Qi Tian's attention the most were the three terrifying, enormous ravines!

These three deep ravines stretch from the mountaintop to the foot of the mountain, their depths unfathomable. They have cleaved the entire Water Curtain Cave into four fragmented areas. The rocks along the edges of the ravines are sharp and jagged, covered with marks of being cleaved, exuding a terrifying and ferocious aura.

Qi Tian stepped forward, gesturing with his hand to indicate the direction of the ravine, his brow furrowed, his tone resolute: "This ravine! If I'm not mistaken, it should be a strange weapon like the Three-Pointed Double-Edged Sword, descending vertically at a thirty-degree angle, slashing down from the sky!" He paused, a hint of understanding flashing in his eyes, "In that case, the one who orchestrated this must be that Erlang Shen, the True Lord of Guanjiang Estuary, Yang Jian!"

He turned to the void behind him and shouted, "Aren't you right, Lord Zhou?" But when he finished speaking, there was only deathly silence around him, no response whatsoever, only the howling of the wind.

Qi Tian's heart tightened, and he spoke again, his voice weak: "Lord Zhou!"

He looked around, his chapped lips moving slightly, his voice urgent: "Can you hear me? Hey! Hey, answer me!"

No matter how he called out, he received no response. The signal from the Imperial Observatory had been completely cut off, and he had lost all contact with it.

A feeling of isolation and helplessness welled up in his heart. Qi Tian licked his chapped lips, and the thirst in his throat became even more intense, almost like it was on fire.

He turned around and looked at the vast Water Curtain Cave blessed land. His gaze swept over the ruins, and he secretly wondered where he could find water. If he couldn't find water, he was afraid he would die of dehydration before he even encountered any danger.

Qi Tian glanced at the broken terrain of Huaguo Mountain, locked onto a downward-facing stone path, and quickly walked down it. The path was rugged and uneven, covered with pebbles and dust, and each step required considerable effort. He ran through more than a dozen low-lying areas, but still couldn't see a single drop of water. His parched eyes gradually started to see stars, and waves of dizziness washed over him.

Just when he was about to give up, a faint, damp scent drifted through the air, subtle yet grabbing Qi Tian's attention like a lifeline. He suddenly raised his hand and grabbed, and wisps of white mist appeared and disappeared, drifting slowly from the southeast, carrying a cool, moist vapor.

"Water!" Qi Tian's eyes lit up instantly, the fatigue and weakness in his eyes vanished, and he accelerated his pace, running wildly towards the southeast, his footsteps making rapid sounds as he stepped over the gravel.

Before long, a dilapidated thatched pavilion came into view. The pavilion was built on a large rock on a relatively high, gentle ridge. It was extremely simple, and the thatch on the roof had long since fallen off, revealing the rotten wooden frame underneath.

In the center of the pavilion stands a large three-legged cauldron, its body covered in rust. Scattered around it are clay figures, most of which are incomplete. Only wisps of white mist constantly drift out of the cauldron, lingering outside the pavilion.

As Qi Tian approached the edge of the thatched pavilion, a misty white fog rushed towards him, carrying a refreshing coolness.

In a single glance, all his fatigue vanished instantly, and even the skin cut by General Centipede began to heal rapidly, the pain gradually subsiding. He was secretly amazed; the magic of this mist far exceeded his imagination.

Just as Qi Tian was marveling at this miraculous change, an aged voice slowly drifted out from the misty thatched pavilion, tinged with a hint of hoarseness and indifference: "Fellow Daoist, how shall I address you?"

Qi Tian was startled, his alertness instantly heightened. He stopped in his tracks, his gaze fixed on the interior of the thatched pavilion, his palms secretly gathering power, ready to deal with any unexpected situation. In the misty white fog, a blurry black figure sat behind the cauldron, its body hunched and short, yet exuding an unfathomable aura. It was slowly turning its head to look in Qi Tian's direction.

Qi Tian composed himself, suppressing his wariness, and replied in a deep voice, "My surname is Qi, and my given name is Tian, ​​Qi Tian!"

The old figure remained silent for a moment, seemingly muttering to himself, yet also speaking to Qi Tian: "The Great Dao is fifty, the Heavenly Evolution is forty-nine, the Six Lines of the Hexagram arise, knowing yet not avoiding, you should understand your fate today."

"The ending?" Qi Tian frowned slightly, his tone full of doubt. "What do you mean, sir? I don't quite understand."

The old man chuckled softly, his laughter carrying a deeper meaning: "It's good that you don't understand; it would be bad if you did."

Qi Tian was still parched, and the feeling of thirst surged up again. He suppressed his doubts and pleaded, "Sir, could I please have a drink of water? I'm terribly thirsty!"

The old man spoke slowly, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable air of authority: "Of course you can, but you have to leave something behind!"

"I have no money." Qi Tian rummaged through his empty pockets, his tone sincere. "All my valuables are outside. If I could get out, you can ask me for anything: star armor, mechs, spaceships, custom satellites. I would never refuse."

The old man said calmly, "You've made it this far, entered the forbidden area of ​​Flower Fruit Mountain, and arrived at the ruins of the Water Curtain Cave. You must have some skill! Here's what we'll do: leave behind your most prized martial arts cultivation insights, and I'll treat you to a hearty drink!"

Qi Tian paused, a hint of hesitation flashing in his eyes, before reassuring himself: "My cultivation insights? My realm isn't high, Senior, you'll probably be disappointed."

The old man waved his hand and said calmly, "It's alright. Realm is just a concept. There's no need to be bound by it. Insight is about one's character. They are worlds apart, and that's what's most precious."

After the old man finished speaking, he gently waved his sleeve, and the celestial mist in front of him instantly dissipated, revealing an ancient stone slab that slowly emerged and landed in front of Qi Tian. The surface of the stone slab was smooth and shimmered with a faint light.

Qi Tian slowly sat down on the ground, his gaze falling on the stone slab in front of him. His thoughts were churning as he recalled every detail of his journey. From the battles on the Perfect Continent to the defense of the Moonlit Base, from the grief of eight hundred brothers dying in the war against the alien races to the deep-seated hatred of his sister being slaughtered by the heavens, scenes flashed through his mind, leaving him unable to calm down for a long time.

Enveloped in a misty haze, silently nourishing him, as Qi Tian closed his eyes in meditation, visible vortexes of immortal mist gradually formed around him. These vortexes spun rapidly around him, slowly spreading out and enveloping his entire being, exuding a mysterious aura.

Qi Tian opened his eyes again, his pupils clear as water, the weariness and restlessness of the past gone, leaving only a pure and clear gaze. He raised his left hand, bit his index finger, and let the blood slowly seep out. He then began to write his cultivation insights on the stone slab, his handwriting strong and powerful, each word containing his obsession and perseverance.

"My entire life can be summed up in four words: facing the end alone."

"My cultivation method can be summed up in just four words: the path to invincibility."

"From the Perfect Continent to the base on the far side of the moon, from the eight hundred brothers who died in the war against the alien races to my sister being slaughtered by the heavens."

"My cultivation comes entirely from the heart."

"The so-called invincible realm has ten levels! These ten levels are not distinguished by high or low."

"In the first realm, I almost had everything! It's called [Strike of Resentment]!"

"In the second realm, I have seen through everything; I am omniscient and omnipotent. This realm is called [No Regrets After a Move]."

"Third Realm, I only have one final strike left, the [Winning Strike]!"

"In the fourth realm, I have nothing left. [Total destruction]!"

"In the fifth realm, I've staked everything—a desperate gamble!"

"In the sixth realm, I accept all possible outcomes; I'm going all in!"

"In the seventh realm, I will burn myself to ashes and be reborn from the ashes!"

"The Eighth Realm: I am both the beginning and the end; cause and effect reside within me!"

"I have reached the ninth realm, and have no regrets. [All thoughts are emptied]!"

"The Tenth Realm, with all ancestors above, [The Hand of God]!"

Qi Tian didn't notice that each time he left the mark of the invincible path to a certain realm, the blood-red handprint on the stone slab caused the surrounding immortal mist to boil and explode even more, the vortex to spin faster and faster, and his aura to grow stronger and stronger, as if an invisible force was resonating with his cultivation experience.