In the blink of an eye, the once-crowded land was now completely empty.

After the flames died down, everything returned to its original state.

The cracked earth, the scorching wind, the lifeless forbidden zone.

Not a single soul remained.

Not even ashes.

It was as if the countless people who had been there moments ago had never existed.

The dog hiding behind Lu Benwei up above wished he could crawl into his master's black robe if he could...

The Spirit King and Night Wind had taken refuge on the dog's back, while Milk Cap curled up motionless, teeth chattering.

Too terrifying...

That fire was way too damn terrifying...

While the dog and the others were still reeling from the horror of the hellfire, Lu Benwei waved his hand, and the scene before them flickered past rapidly.

The raging inferno of the Twin Forbidden Cosmos and the blood-soaked Ice Cosmos soon vanished without a trace.

Everything receded.

In no time, their surroundings shifted, and they found themselves back at the graveyard.

Ahead stood the same tombstone as before.

Beside it, the same rusted sword.

Now, as the dog and the others looked at the tombstone again, not a trace of their earlier disdain remained.

Except... the dog glanced at the inscription on the tombstone—Ancestor of the Piao Family, Piao Yunchu.

"Boss, how did Piao Yunchu end up here?" the dog asked, puzzled.

Wasn’t he supposed to be in that other realm?

Lu Benwei reached out, brushing a speck of dust off the tombstone. "After the Twin Forbidden Cosmos was torn apart, he got caught in a spatial rift and, by sheer coincidence, ended up here."

"Ten thousand years... and he never made it home."

"What about those remnant souls?" the dog asked curiously.

There weren’t even tombstones for them. He remembered countless remnant souls flying into Piao Yunchu’s body earlier.

Lu Benwei turned his gaze toward the Sword Mound.

A sweeping glance revealed an endless sea of swords.

"There," Lu Benwei nodded toward the Sword Mound. "Every sword houses a remnant soul."

After arriving here, Piao Yunchu, unable to bear the weight of countless remnant souls due to his own limited cultivation, refused to abandon his fallen comrades.

So he established a family lineage, with swords as their path of cultivation. Every time a direct descendant of the family was born, a sword-consecration ritual was held.

This ritual involved using their bodies as vessels and their swords as anchors, embedding a remnant soul into each blade.

The vessel nurtured the soul within the sword, ensuring it wouldn’t dissipate from lack of energy.

But Piao Yunchu’s descendants, unable to withstand the bloodthirsty ancient war spirits, were doomed to short lives.

To the Piao family, the sword-consecration ritual was the highest honor. Yet they never realized it was the very death sentence left to them by their most revered ancestor.

Piao Yunchu’s obsession preserved the remnant souls of the Twin Forbidden Cosmos—but at the cost of his own bloodline’s future.

At this thought, Lu Benwei sighed softly.

"We were too late in the end."

"Now, let’s take you home," Lu Benwei said, raising his hand toward the rusted sword.

In an instant, the sword let out a mournful cry.

A remnant soul flew from the blade, swirling around Lu Benwei.

Then, another sword behind them wailed, releasing another soul.

Soon, the cries of countless swords rose in waves, an unending chorus of sorrow.

Remnant souls poured forth, all converging toward Lu Benwei.

Within moments, the entire Sword Mound echoed with lamentations.

Lu Benwei stood at the center of a swirling vortex of souls.

With a wave of his hand, a beam of white light shot into the sky from the vortex’s core, tearing open the heavens.

"Go home," he murmured.

The remnant souls surged into the light, vanishing through the rift in the sky.

...

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Sword Mound, Piaomiao Hong sat waiting for death.

Eyes closed in meditation, she suddenly heard the swords around her begin to wail.

Her eyes snapped open.

Before her, countless swords embedded in the earth trembled violently, their cries growing louder and louder, leaving her stunned.

What was happening?

Piaomiao Hong was utterly bewildered.

Then, she saw wisps of something—like ethereal breath—rising from each sword, all flowing toward one direction.

One after another, they surged toward the ancestral Sword Mound.

Soon, the air was filled with a river of souls, a sight so magnificent it left her breathless.

She stood, turning toward the ancestral gravesite.

There, the souls had formed a swirling vortex, spinning rapidly around something she couldn’t see.

She wanted to step closer, to understand.

But in the next moment, a pillar of white light pierced the heavens—ripping open the sky itself!

Piaomiao Hong gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

She watched, frozen, as the souls poured into the tear in the sky.

"Hiss—!" She sucked in a sharp breath, her mind blank.

Before she could process it, the souls had all vanished.

The Sword Mound fell silent once more.

Even the ancestral grave returned to its usual stillness.

Everything had happened in an instant.

So fast that Piaomiao Hong wondered if she had hallucinated.

She glanced around—everything looked exactly as it had before.

Of course.

How could the sky be torn open?

Piaomiao Hong patted her cheeks. "Snap out of it, snap out of it!"

"Must be a deathbed hallucination," she muttered.

With a sigh, she sat back down.

"Better just wait for death quietly," she thought, closing her eyes peacefully.