Chapter 175: The Mystery of Time Travel (Part I)

"The dissatisfaction of the Beast Ancestor, Shen Ni, was merely a fuse. It fueled the escalating conflicts among the Nine Sages, ultimately leading to their division."

"Hongjun, Qiankun, and Yinyang rule the bright spirit realm of the primordial world; Luohu, Heitian, and Wumo, the three demon ancestors, rule the dark demon realm. This Saint and Amitabha Buddha have maintained neutrality. Shen Ni watches coldly from the sidelines, waiting for the right moment to act."

"Your appearance merely brought the tottering era of the Nine Sages' rule to a complete end."

Having said this, Saint Yangmei could not help but sigh with emotion, lamenting the irreversible passing of the era ruled by the Nine Sages.

Nan Luo, however, shared no such sentiment with Saint Yangmei. Having struggled desperately to survive in the era of the Nine Sages, he had longed for this day to arrive swiftly.

Yet, despite the hidden joy in his heart, Nan Luo maintained a heavy expression on his face, matching the complex mood of Saint Yangmei.

Suddenly recalling the final sentence of Saint Yangmei, a wave of doubt arose within him, and he curiously inquired, "What virtue or ability does this humble deity possess that could possibly cause the great era of the Nine Sages to end?"

Saint Yangmei smiled upon hearing this and said, "You alone, whom any single Saint could easily handle, could certainly not bring an end to the era of the Nine Sages."

"However, there is a 'Him' standing behind you! Divine Emperor Nan Luo, or perhaps, this Saint should call you Daoist Yuhua!"

Daoist Yuhua—the name of Nan Luo in his past life!

Could it be that Saint Yangmei knew this Emperor was a time-traveler from a later era?!

Unable to suppress his growing panic any longer, Nan Luo abruptly raised his head, his pair of cold, merciless purple pupils staring unflinchingly into the azure holy eyes of Saint Yangmei.

Gazing into those unfathomable azure eyes, Nan Luo felt that this was the true Saint Yangmei.

The amiable and benevolent Saint Yangmei from moments before had merely been a façade.

"Does Saint Yangmei know my origins?" Nan Luo cleanly and directly admitted to being a transmigrator; since Saint Yangmei already knew, trying to gloss over it was impossible.

Saint Yangmei smiled calmly, locking his gaze on Nan Luo's purple pupils, and said, "Your abilities have indeed grown! You actually dare to gaze directly at this Saint now. The feeling of achieving sainthood in the flesh must be quite pleasant, right?"

Ignoring Saint Yangmei's remark, Nan Luo furrowed his brows, bowed with a grim expression, and said, "Please enlighten me, Saint!"

"Humph!" Saint Yangmei let out a cold snort and replied evenly, "Did you truly think the Nine Sages were unaware of your origins? You underestimate the Sages far too much. To be honest with you, this Saint, Hongjun, Amitabha, and Ancestor Luohu all know your true identity."

"A transmigrator from the Era of Dharma Ending!"

Saint Yangmei's chilling words plunged Nan Luo into an abyss of ten thousand zhang, filling him with a bone-chilling cold and terror.

Hongjun, Yangmei, Amitabha, and Luohu—these four Saintly Immortals and Demon Ancestors all knew his origins.

No wonder these four were able to rule the primordial universe of later generations, laughing until the very end and becoming the true victors.

These four supreme beings were simply too formidable.

Looking at Nan Luo's pale face, Saint Yangmei's azure holy eyes remained cold and merciless as he continued, "Do you believe you are merely 'His' sole chess piece? Let me tell you, across all the spaces and times of the primordial world—the Primeval, the Ancient, the Investiture of the Gods, the Journey to the West, and countless others—'He' has dispatched countless chess pieces, countless transmigrators."

"You are merely one among them!"

Had Nan Luo read primordial-style web novels in his past life, he would have known just how ubiquitous transmigrators were across all time and space of the primordial world!

Striving to steady his surging mind and quell his panic, Nan Luo asked, his voice trembling slightly, "Then... why did 'He' dispatch so many chess pieces to various eras of the primordial world?"

The moment he finished speaking, Nan Luo realized he had asked another foolish question—a question whose answer he already knew.

Usually calm, profound, wise, and astute, Nan Luo had committed consecutive foolish errors today, a testament to the overwhelming mental shock he had suffered.

Sure enough, looking at Nan Luo, Saint Yangmei's azure eyes seemed to pierce straight through to his inner thoughts, and he sneered, "Did you not already guess 'His' purpose and your own value?"

"His purpose is singular: to defeat the Sages and return in triumph!"

"Your value stems precisely from this."

Gazing at Saint Yangmei, Nan Luo asked again with a slightly steadier voice, "Then why did the Saint say that this Emperor would end the era of the Nine Sages?"

Stroke the white beard on his chin lightly, Saint Yangmei looked at Nan Luo and said in a deep voice, "Simple. Because you are the most special among the thousands of transmigrators."

"The most special one?" Unable to comprehend Saint Yangmei's words, Nan Luo frowned and asked, "I wonder what makes this Emperor so special that I could stand out among thousands of transmigrators?"

With a profound gaze, Saint Yangmei stared at Nan Luo and suddenly asked, "Do you know what fate ultimately befalls these thousands of transmigrators?"

Being merely one among thousands, how could Nan Luo possibly know the fate of his fellow transmigrators?

Yet, judging by Saint Yangmei's omniscient divine powers, those transmigrators likely met a grim end.

Shaking his head, Nan Luo looked at Saint Yangmei and replied evenly, "This humble deity does not know! Please enlighten me, Saint!"

"If these thousands of transmigrators prove useful to the Sages, they are allowed to survive for a short time; if they are of no use to the Sages, they are captured the moment they descend into the primordial world."

"No matter what, these thousands of transmigrators share a single ultimate fate: having the power of time and space extracted from their bodies, and every trace of their existence erased from time and space, never to appear again."

Listening to Saint Yangmei's calm words, Nan Luo, as a transmigrator, felt a piercing, absolute cold in his heart, as if he were witnessing his own doom.

For ordinary living beings, death is the ultimate punishment; for powerful beings, having their souls scattered is the ultimate punishment.

Yet, compared to having the traces of one's existence erased from time and space, punishments of the flesh and soul pale into insignificance.

To have the traces of one's existence erased from time and space means, to give a simple example, that you suddenly vanish from the world, leaving behind not a single trace that you ever existed.

Neither material records like photographs nor the memories of loved ones will retain any sign of you, as though you had never stepped foot into this world.

That is not even the most terrifying part. What is most terrifying is that even if a supreme entity wished to save you, they could not.

For supreme beings like Saints and Immortals, as long as any trace of your existence remains in any time or space, you can be resurrected and reborn.

Conversely, once every trace of your existence in time and space has been erased, no matter who it is—even if Pangu himself descended in person—you could never be resurrected.

For any living being, the true, inescapable horror of a punishment is the complete erasure of their existence, banishing them from ever appearing again.