I, Don't Believe in Fate

The gentle rain of light scattered by the broad scythe blade gradually faded away its last glimmer, and the countless tiny specks of light floating in the mid-air around it completely vanished into the dim air.

The wails and vicious whispers hovering at the top completely fell silent.

The black river that had surged for countless years was rapidly shedding its murky impurities, becoming crystal clear.

It ultimately turned into large swathes of gray mist, scattering throughout this vast underground void.

That solitary divine throne still hovered at the top of the ruined altar, but the dense resentment layered and entwined upon it had mostly faded, making its entire outline appear somewhat illusory and thin in the faint light.

A sigh echoed leisurely in the depths of Chen Guan's consciousness.

The voice no longer carried its previous urgent, bewitching tone, leaving only a sense of melancholy from having weathered long epochs.

"You will return, sooner or later."

The voice echoed faintly in the empty space of his consciousness.

"This is your destined fate."

Gripping the heavy scythe, Chen Guan stood quietly in place. He did not turn to look at the seat that symbolized supreme power, but merely lowered his eyes slightly and spoke to the empty air ahead of him.

"People have tried to persuade me with such words before."

His calm tone spread over the empty altar.

"But I happen to be someone who does not believe in fate."

If he truly believed in those ethereal arrangements of destiny, he would probably still be in some remote corner right now, acting as an obscure student, looking enviously at the chosen ones.

This was the fate of "Chen Guan."

If he truly bowed his head and surrendered to fate, he would now be exactly like that true body he had securely hidden in the coffin, eyes closed in an eternal dark slumber.

This was the fate of the "self."

Unknown to anyone in this world, leaving not a single trace of himself in the long river of history.

But he simply insisted on going against those established rules.

And thanks to this stubbornness of never turning back until hitting a brick wall.

He was able to grip his weapon and fight his way to this day, to personally experience those life-and-death struggles under the identity of Chen Guan, and to meet those vibrant lives who were currently standing by the black riverbank, anxiously waiting for him.

He silently chewed over the word "divine throne" on the tip of his tongue.

That majestic power that could crush everything with a raise of a hand was certainly full of temptation, and the thrill of leaping across hierarchies in a single step was enough to make one lose their mind.

But he knew better than anyone what hid behind this gift; it was profound agony and a dark prison with no light of day, extending for countless tens of thousands of years.

He raised his head again and cast his gaze forward, looking past the lingering shadows that were gradually melting around the altar, straight toward the direction he had come from.

As someone who had come incredibly close to godhood, that position did not hold such a strong attraction for him.

Even if there came a day in the future when he truly needed to sit in that position, he would fight his way up there relying on the scythe in his own hands.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with his true body at the pinnacle.

I do not need any gifts of unknown origin.

Chen Guan said to himself silently in his heart.

That ancient voice sensed the unshakable resolve in his mind and did not try to argue further, merely repeating stubbornly in that prophecy-like tone for one last time.

"You will return."

This time, the voice was so weak that it seemed it could cut off at any moment.

With the complete fall of the last syllable, the ruined altar floating in mid-air and the illusory, thin divine throne finally turned into fine, dancing specks of light under Chen Guan's gaze, completely dissipating within this underground space.

With the total disappearance of the divine throne, this underground space instantly underwent an earth-shattering transformation.

The ground beneath his feet reverted back to that familiar, wide, ancient passage of dark-cyan stone slabs.

The massive scythe tightly gripped in Chen Guan's hands also turned into specks of dark gold light and scattered into the air; since he could imprison those souls, he could naturally grant them release as well.

"Who are you?"

Chen Guan asked the empty air, but received no response.

That voice of unknown origin seemed to have dissipated along with the divine throne.

Everything before his eyes now looked no different from the outside world, just like an ordinary ruin.

However, for Chen Guan, it was fraught with unanswered questions.

He stepped forward, treading on the hard stone slabs, and strode toward the faint light waiting for him.

Since things had come to this, it was better to leave first. With Chen Guan's current strength, he really didn't dare to venture into deeper places.

Because he still had his true body behind him, how could he take risks lightly?

At the distant riverbank.

When the black river that lay across in front of everyone, dividing the banks, completely dried up and disappeared, the massive sorrow that heavily weighed on everyone's hearts also dissipated cleanly.

"Is it over?"

Hong Yuan looked at the bluestone passage ahead that had returned to its original state, muttering softly in uncertainty.

The palm of her hand, tightly gripping the long handle of the giant axe, had long been thoroughly soaked with warm sweat.

Su Yuehe stared unblinkingly at the pitch-black exit of the passage, anxiously waiting for that familiar figure to reappear.

"He succeeded."

Yin Chen had his arms crossed over his chest. His standing posture seemed to have regained its usual composure, but an unconcealable look of awe surged in the depths of his eyes.

He had just witnessed with his own eyes a clash of wills that spanned long epochs, and the being who ultimately stood victorious was none other than his companion.

Long Ao pressed his lips tightly together and did not reply, merely silently lowering the weapon held high in his hand a few inches from its highly alert stance.

His back muscles, originally tense to the limit, also relaxed slightly, but his gaze remained firmly locked on the dark depths ahead.

A clear sound of footsteps—shoe soles rubbing against stone slabs—came from the deepest part of the passage, the rhythm sounding neither rushed nor slow.

That familiar tall figure finally walked out of the darkness step by step, reappearing completely unharmed in the center of everyone's vision.

The clothes on his body were no different from when he walked in, and the expression on his face remained as unruffled as ever.

It was as if the massive upheaval that was enough to upend the entire ancient ruin just now was nothing more than an ordinary after-dinner stroll to him.

But everyone standing here knew very well that some invisible, intangible things had undergone earth-shattering changes.

An Changqing watched Chen Guan striding toward them, and his heart, which had been constantly hanging high in his throat, finally settled safely back into his stomach at this moment.

He took the initiative to step forward two paces in Chen Guan's direction, stopping just one step away from the other party.

He raised his arm and solemnly extended his right hand toward Chen Guan.

"Welcome back."

An Changqing's voice was gentle yet full of strength. Every word echoed clearly throughout the spacious underground space, carrying complete acceptance and unreserved sincerity.

Chen Guan's gaze first fell upon An Changqing's broad, outstretched hand. He then raised his eyes to look at the gentle smile on the man's face, before finally sweeping his gaze over the diverse, concerned expressions of the companions standing behind him.

He stood there in silence for a moment, then raised his right arm, reached out, and firmly grasped An Changqing's hand.

"Yeah."

The simplest of syllables slipped from his lips.