Above the Realm of Karmic Flames lay a vast expanse of cracked crimson earth.

The land was webbed with fissures, spider-like cracks sprawling endlessly, as if intent on ensnaring all existence within its grasp.

From their vantage high above, even the dog-headed observers felt suffocated just by looking.

Yet below, countless demons, gods, and cultivators traversed the fractured terrain.

Each wore a face brimming with joy.

Those with higher cultivation soared effortlessly, vanishing and reappearing in the blink of an eye.

Those weaker found their powers suppressed by the Realm of Karmic Flames, forced to advance step by step.

Still, even these steps were ten thousand times faster than a mortal’s pace.

Scorching waves of heat lashed at every soul in the realm, making endurance a torment.

Gradually, even breathing became laborious.

The karmic flames of this forbidden land seared the energy within their bodies. The longer they lingered, the faster their strength drained away.

In this timeless dimension, where neither day nor night existed, the passage of time blurred into oblivion.

Step by step, ten feet, a hundred paces… The army, numb to the march, moved forward with a singular purpose.

Home.

This obsession drove them beyond death itself.

But the Realm of Karmic Flames was vast. How long had they walked? Months? Decades?

Slowly, the weaker among them—humans, demons, spirits—began to falter.

Their flesh and souls withered under the forbidden land’s relentless torment.

Each step grew heavier, each movement more labored.

Until, at last, their very souls began to fade into transparency.

A soul turning fully transparent meant not mere death—but annihilation.

No reincarnation. No return. Only utter dissolution.

A one-armed warrior’s soul was among the first to reach this state.

Amidst the marching throng, his legs buckled, his pace slowed, until he collapsed.

Those around him watched with grief-stricken eyes, helpless to intervene.

Now, they could not save their fallen comrade—nor even know when their own souls would scatter into the void.

In his final moments, the one-armed warrior mustered the last dregs of his energy, wrenching free a wisp of his fading soul.

"General… take me… home…"

His whisper, frail as a mosquito’s hum, carried the wisp of near-transparent soul toward the distant sky.

The moment it left his body, his burly form crumbled to the ground.

Then vanished entirely.

Not even ashes remained.

At the head of the army, the general, astride his winged steed, caught the wisp in his palm.

He turned to look behind him.

An endless sea of soldiers stretched into the horizon.

Gasping, exhausted, desperate, resolute—an army on the brink.

The general gazed at the soul-fragment in his hand, sighed softly, and clenched his fist.

"Advance," he commanded.

Time blurred again. Then another voice, weak beyond measure, rose.

"General… take me home…"

Another wisp soared toward him.

"General… you must… take me home…"

"General… take me…"

"General…"

One after another.

Pale souls, on the verge of vanishing, streaked across the sky like falling stars or the first light of dawn.

Countless fragments converged upon the general, forming a river of souls—vast, tragic, and heartrending.

The general lowered his head, palms open, watching the endless stream of souls with bloodshot eyes. His lips pressed into a thin line, silent.

If he had once felt excitement for home, now it was an obsession bordering on madness.

No retreat. No surrender. The general repeated it like a mantra.

They had fought for millennia to win this war.

He would bring his soldiers home.

Steeling himself, he raised his head, fists tight, gaze clear.

"Double the pace!"

The order sent the army surging forward.

By the time they reached the end, only half remained.

The rest had not fallen in battle—but on the journey home.

When the Mountain Fire Barrier came into view, the survivors trembled.

No cheers, no elation. Only silent stares, clenched jaws, and muffled sobs.

Only the general allowed himself a rare flicker of relief.

The Mountain Fire Barrier was a range of towering ridges, veins of fire threading through the earth—not an unbroken inferno, but scattered flames.

If they could navigate past the fires, they would escape.

But… the entrance to the barrier could only be seen up close.

The general’s eyes settled on Piao Yunchu, who was polishing his sword.

"Yunchu."

Startled, Piao Yunchu snapped to attention. "Here!"

"Scout the Mountain Fire Barrier. Find the entrance."

"Yes, sir!" Sword in hand, Piao Yunchu vanished.

The general turned back to his exhausted troops, expression softening.

"The rest of you—halt and rest."

After relentless marching, their spirits and strength were spent. Those not already drained by the journey had been hollowed by the forbidden land’s torment.

Now, with escape so near and the order to rest given, nearly all collapsed where they stood.

They needed this.

Rest—then freedom.

As they gazed at the barrier, weary smiles flickered across their faces.

Finally.

The halt let many sink into meditation, some even slipping into hibernation. Recovery, naps, deep sleep—all took hold at once.

The sudden release of tension left them utterly vulnerable.

The general, too.

He was beyond exhausted.

They had all let their guard down.

Forgotten that the Realm of Karmic Flames held unimaginable dangers.

Too long without incident had made them complacent.

So when the subterranean currents shifted, no one noticed.

When the ember-radiation breached the surface in a cataclysmic eruption, no one reacted.

The apocalyptic inferno erupted beneath them, swallowing the entire army in an instant—under the horrified eyes of the dog-headed watchers.

Every last soldier awaiting home.

Screams filled the air, turning the land into a living hell.

Even knowing this was but a vision from another dimension, the observers trembled, jaws slack.

The Spirit King clung to the dog’s leg, scalp prickling with terror.

Below, the horror continued.

Those caught in the flames vanished instantly to ash.

Those spared the direct blaze but seared by the radiation writhed in agony, begging for death.

When Piao Yunchu returned, this was the sight that greeted him.

He stood frozen, eyes wide, body shaking.

Even the general was now writhing in the scorching currents.

All those scorched by the karmic flames, all those struck by its raging currents—none could survive.

Even those who clung to life by sheer luck would bear the curse of hellfire.

"General!!!" Piao Yunchu's eyes burned red as he screamed, lunging forward in desperation.

Hearing the commotion, the general struggled to lift his gaze. The moment he saw Piao Yunchu, he struck out with a palm, sending the young man flying backward.

"Yunchu…" The general's voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes flickering toward the mountain of blazing barriers—his heart filled with bitter resentment.

So close… They had been so close…

"General!" Piao Yunchu stood frozen, terrified by the scene before him. Tears welled in his eyes, his mind blank with helplessness.

The general tore his gaze from the inferno and looked back at Piao Yunchu.

"Yunchu… we won’t make it out," he gasped, each word a struggle.

"Only you…" The general closed his eyes and opened his palm.

In an instant, countless fragmented souls gathered in his hand, surging like a river into Piao Yunchu’s body.

"Only you now, Yunchu." The general forced his eyes open, his voice breaking. "Take us home."

"Yunchu… take me home too…" Those still clinging to life amid the flames tore their own remnants of soul free, sending them flying toward Piao Yunchu.

One wisp after another.

Then—suddenly—the earth trembled once more.

The air itself seemed to freeze.

The general turned, gritting his teeth as he forced himself upright into a meditative stance.

A furious roar split the heavens: "Tear open space! Send him away!!!"

Beneath them, a catastrophe was brewing—one that would consume them in an instant. They would not survive.

They wouldn’t even leave behind fragments of their souls to return home.

They were fated to sleep forever on this battlefield.

Now, with their last shreds of strength, they could only ensure that those whose remnants remained would have a chance.

Even in death, even in annihilation—they would send their surviving comrades onward.

Ripping open the Dual Forbidden Cosmos was the only way.

But tearing through the Dual Forbidden Cosmos led to random dimensions.

Perhaps… the path home.

Or perhaps, a universe more perilous than the Dual Forbidden Cosmos.

Or worse—lost forever in the endless currents of the void.

Yet even so… even if the chance was one in a hundred million… there was still hope.

Those not yet dead, those barely clinging to life under the assault of the scorching winds, forced themselves upright.

Those still burning, their bodies wreathed in flames, rose as well.

Countless souls on the brink of death stood together.

They were not yet gone—only seared to the edge of death. Aside from the torment of the flames, their energy remained intact. After gathering themselves, they still retained seventy or eighty percent of their cultivation.

Countless wills and energies merged into a single, heaven-rending force. In their final moments, they unleashed everything—pouring every last drop of their power into the general.

With another earth-shaking roar, the general channeled all that energy, straining to tear open the faintest sliver—just the barest crack—in the Dual Forbidden Cosmos.

"Yunchu… take them home." The general’s gaze burned with desperate intensity as he locked eyes with Piao Yunchu.

Piao Yunchu screamed the general’s name, his vision blurred with tears as he watched the general shove him forward with one last push.

Then—

Another cataclysmic firestorm erupted from the depths, serpentine tongues of flame lashing upward.

Everyone… was swallowed by the inferno.

Gone without a trace.

...