Volume One, Chapter Forty-Four: Ideals

The more beautiful the past, the harder it is to let go once it is lost. Yet even after losing everything, Li Xiang resolved to press onward toward his ideals. He was determined to complete the “Dimensional Action” project, even though the institute had banned it for its extreme danger, even though he no longer had access to advanced experimental equipment, even though he had no assistants or companions left by his side, even though the guiding light that once illuminated his path had been extinguished completely.

He would carry their legacy forward. For this, he would stop at nothing, sparing no means or cost. Everything was for their shared dream.

Yet, in this moment, he was not truly alone. Beside his ear, there was always a voice laughing, praising the meaning of his name.

“My name is Li Xiang, and I have an ideal.” On the day he left the institute, Li Xiang returned to the site of the leveled experimental base, softly murmuring under the sunset and evening breeze.

The sun was setting, clouds ablaze in crimson. Sitting alone upon the vast empty ground, the young man was accompanied only by his own shadow.

From that day forward, the world lost a rising star in scientific research and gained a fearless madman chasing his dreams. Having lost everything, what did he have left to fear, no matter the price?

Over seventeen years, he discovered that the unique dimensional power within the Dimensional Stone could, in theory, resonate with the world membrane. He was ecstatic, for once again he sensed the road to his ideal spreading out beneath his feet.

Lacking Dimensional Stones for his research? He joined the Doomsday Cult, trading his white lab coat for bloodstained ash robes. Behind the crow-beaked mask, his face betrayed neither joy nor sorrow—he felt no pity for the cries of sacrificial victims, nor did he share the madness and brutality of his fellow cultists. He simply and silently amassed vast funds, purchasing Dimensional Stones through all possible channels, ensuring his research could continue.

No high-level Awakened to assist his experiments? He himself was a spatial Awakened. Though his cultivation talent was unremarkable, he forced himself up to the peak of the Transcendent Realm over seventeen long years, his foundation battered and unstable, for he never sought steady growth in power. Even if he ravaged his own potential with countless forbidden techniques, all he cared about was reaching the level required for his experiment; the consequences, he cared nothing for.

More than that, he once contacted the Path of Heaven, submitting to those heretical lunatics’ bodily modifications, transforming his entire body into a laboratory vessel—just to avoid the Doomsday Cult’s affairs being exposed, which would force him into hiding and cost him his base and equipment. With his bio-mechanical alterations, he himself became a mobile research facility.

Li Xiang burned himself out, while ruthlessly taking from others, like a runaway train plunging headlong into the abyss of madness. Yet to him, so long as he could reach the destination called “ideal,” even if it meant sinking to the bottom of the abyss or harming countless innocents, he would never hesitate; he cared not, nor did he fear.

He was once the solitary youth named Li Xiang, the prodigy honored with accolades, the steadfast support behind her. Now, he was a lunatic who had lost everything, running wild in pursuit of a single glimmer of light.

I wish for a conclusion, I wish to know the truth, I wish to hear your praise for me once more, I wish to see your delicate dimples again.

“Flower, after this year, I’ll be a year older than you.”

...

He glanced up at the nearly imminent Anrealm Barrier, then back at the duo relentlessly pursuing him. Li Xiang raised his fingers like a sword, pointing toward Mode, who was charging at him.

Mode saw the middle-aged man make a move and dared not be careless. Though the aura emanating from him was far less oppressive than the Spirit of the Mist Spider in the wilderness that day, the gap in cultivation was undeniable, and Mode had to be supremely cautious. He rolled aside to dodge, but the next moment coughed up a mouthful of blood—a transparent hole appeared in his side. Shocked, Mode realized the man had only glanced back, yet predicted his evasive move. Though the attack’s power might not equal a mid-Transcendent Awakened, it was impossible to tell if this was merely a warning against approaching.

Tearing his sleeve to bind his wound, Mode staunched the bleeding. Fortunately, the strike hadn’t damaged any vital organs or bones; it would affect him, but not incapacitate him entirely.

Qing Mu stopped, standing quietly behind Mode. Her tea-colored sunglasses hid her eyes, making it impossible to read her thoughts.

With this delay, Li Xiang finally reached the base of the Anrealm Barrier. Dim light rekindled in his eyes.

He pressed a hand against the barrier, yet was not repelled by its inherent force. Even though the Dimensional Stones had been processed during the barrier’s construction, Li Xiang could still sense the thick, potent dimensional power within.

He stripped off his upper garments and tossed them aside. In the next instant, countless mechanical arms and claws sprang from his body. Steel talons flickered through the air, searching for prey.

His arm extended from the shoulder, hand splitting open to reveal the interwoven machinery and flesh within. Li Xiang lifted a bag stuffed with Dimensional Stones overhead, letting them pour down. The precious stones fell like rain, and the mechanical arms swarmed like serpents, seizing them and wrapping them in fine silver mesh. The giant claw overhead reverted to a normal human hand, raising a sheath of Dimensional Stone over twenty centimeters long.

From the hand pressed against the barrier, countless fine net-like structures spread—not mechanical, but a web of flesh fanning out across the Anrealm Barrier.

“Biomechanical modification! A heretic of the Path of Heaven!” Mode was frightened; was this man not just a member of the Doomsday Cult? The reason the Path of Heaven was condemned as heretical by all major orthodox sects was their expertise in biomechanical modifications, which violated ethics and were notorious for their instability. Once modified, one was plagued by endless consequences.

Ignoring the pain, Mode lunged at the monster before him, whose very existence was beginning to transcend the human category. Awakened power surged within him, golden energy roaring at his fingertips, threatening to break free of his flesh.

Yet the middle-aged man ignored him, eyes closed, sensing the exact parameters of the dimensional power within the barrier, adjusting the resonance of his body.

One among hundreds of mechanical hands rose, silver mesh wrapped around a thumb-sized Dimensional Stone, glowing brightly. The stone was drained of its power, rapidly aging and crumbling to pale dust carried away by the wind.

The silver mesh flared, then radiated outward. A simplified “Anrealm Barrier” unfolded around the middle-aged man, enveloping him and the nearby barrier.

Mode lunged at the barrier, landing a fierce punch, only to be hurled back by its retaliatory force. Blood welled at his lips, but he stood to attack again.

This time, he concentrated all his power into a single point, stabbing with his index finger as a sword. Again, the barrier mercilessly rebounded his strike. With repeated attempts and failures, the golden light at his fingertip began to escape the confines of his flesh, flickering in midair.

Hurled back once more, the force shattered the scab on his wound, blood seeping through the bandage and trickling down his abdomen.

Within the simplified barrier, Li Xiang cared nothing for the attacks outside. After a long time, he slowly opened his eyes. Silver light spilled from his left eye; in his right, a mechanical pupil displayed a stream of parameters, inputting them into his body. At last, he had read and mastered every wavelength parameter of the immense dimensional power within the Anrealm Barrier.

Metallic webs lit up across his body, countless mechanical arms swaying like reeds in the wind, an eerie and mesmerizing beauty in their rhythm.

From bottom to top, small to large, the dimensional power in each stone was drained away, and gray dust crumbled from the forest of flesh and machinery. In the silver and crimson woods, a rain of pale ruin fell.

Dimensional energy was extracted and transported to the hand pressed against the true barrier—to the network of flesh. Within the sprawling net, veins carried not blood but dimensional power, tuned and modulated. As more and more stones were drained, more power was gathered, and Mode’s heart sank. He couldn’t break through the thin barrier before him, nor could he stop the middle-aged man’s plan. Powerlessness and fury roared in his heart.

“Qing, stop him! If this continues, he’ll cause massive damage to the Anrealm Barrier.” Mode finally spoke, pleading with Qing Mu, who had been silent from the start.

“I refuse.” Qing Mu stared at the growing web of flesh. Her intuition warned her that if this continued, she would be drawn into a vortex of danger. Yet this time, she did not act on her instinct to quell the threat. When Mode first asked her for help, she refused.

Sensing his confusion, Qing Mu turned, giving Mode a gentle smile.