Chapter 44
"758 Longitudes," Huan Zheng said as they stood atop the highest tower of the tenth great city they had cleared, the night wind tossing his messy hair while his lazy eyes gazed toward the horizon where flames still consumed the remnants of the enemy's base.
"Luminous Lantern Old. We've already passed two realms of Heavenly Longitude, Liu Xin. But this is only the beginning."
Ling Xu, standing beside him, did not respond with words.
She simply smiled—a smile no longer bitter, no longer sharp, but calm, like the surface of a lake in the morning untouched by wind—a smile born from the realization that every night they spent hunting their enemies, every drop of blood they shed, every Longitude they seized, brought her one step closer to the goal she had long silently yearned for.
To stand before the judges of the Supreme Court of Humanity—not as a defendant, but as an executioner who would sever their heads one by one, just as they had once severed her mother's.
The five great capitals—the heart of human governance in Wuji City—became their next targets, and here, the hunt transformed into war.
Not an open war with shouts and explosions of Qi, but a shadow war—quieter than death, colder than ice, more brutal than anything ever written in the histories of gods and men.
Ling Xu and Huan Zheng moved like two blades invisible to the enemy's eyes, striking from the darkness, vanishing before the blood could dry, and reappearing where no one expected—always one step ahead, always one breath faster, always leaving behind one more death than the panicking commanders could count, as their forces dwindled night after night without trace, without witnesses, without any cause they could comprehend.
"2,221 Longitude," Ling Xu whispered as they stood amid the ruins of the governor's palace in the fifth capital, surrounded by the corpses of World Radiance cultivators who had tried to resist but failed because they never even saw what killed them.
"Radiant World Old."
Huan Zheng, sitting lazily upon the shattered governor's throne with one leg crossed over the other atop a scarred teakwood table, let out a long sigh and replied in a tone that sounded like someone complaining about the heat of the weather.
"One more step, Liu Xin. But this last step isn't about quantity—it's about understanding."
He raised his left hand, and at the tips of his fingers, the 9,999 Heavenly Longitudes they had perfected over four months pulsed with a rhythm that was no longer unfamiliar, no longer wild, but orderly, harmonious—like an orchestra that had finished tuning before a grand performance that would shake the world.
"You know, Liu Xin," he continued, his lazy eyes suddenly deepening, growing heavier like an ancient well untouched by sunlight, "most cultivators in the Heavenly Longitude realm only carry rough traces of the Longitude they collect. They never truly refine them—they simply gather them, like squirrels storing nuts for winter, without ever understanding the form, the taste, or the essence of what they keep."
Hearing those words, Ling Xu felt her chest tighten—not from the Cancer affliction, but from a sudden clarity that emerged in her mind, like a lamp being lit in a room long shrouded in darkness, like fog suddenly lifting to reveal a path that had always been hidden.
"So," she said slowly, her eyes fixed on her own palm, now glowing with a color like emptiness itself, like the space between stars untouched by light, time, or death, "these past four months, we didn't just gather Longitudes—we perfected them. We turned the rough traces left by our first transformation in First-Level Bright Sky into a solid foundation, into deep roots, into something… whole."
Huan Zheng nodded—a firm nod, rare for him, as he was usually too lazy to move his neck more than necessary.
"We have perfected 9,999 Longitude, Liu Xin. Not just any 9,999—but the most perfect 9,999 ever to exist in this realm. And that means—"
He paused, then smiled—a smile neither warm nor cold, but empty, like a void at the bottom of the ocean untouched by light, like a gate opening toward something beyond words, because words were never meant to describe what lay beyond it.
"… We are only one step away from the gate to the Vast Cosmos."
The sky above the fifth floating city was never truly dark—not because the sun refused to set, but because billions of lanterns from millions of buildings scattered across endless clouds reflected light in every direction like a thousand small suns being born and dying every second.
And when Ling Xu and Huan Zheng finally stepped through its main gate after a long journey across layers of dimensions, Ling Xu felt her chest tighten.
Not from the Cancer affliction, but from an overwhelming grandeur—because this city was not merely a city, but a colossal republic connecting billions of divine floating cities into a single organic whole, pulsing like a massive heart in the chest of the universe.
"This… this is impossible," she whispered, her once-dim eyes widening as she witnessed with her own eyes how the city's domain stretched across clusters of stars, how roads of light connected one region to another across space and time, how every corner of the universe seemed drawn together by an unseen force that could be felt deep within the bones.
"Ten great capitals," Huan Zheng said from beside her, his voice still lazy yet carrying an undertone he could not hide, his half-closed eyes gazing toward a horizon of towering structures, ancient golden temples gleaming beneath eternal light, and floating gardens where waterfalls flowed downward yet never fell.
"All of them are here, Liu Xin. This is the center of the surviving divine civilization—the one never touched by human forces, never conquered by enemies, a silent witness to every fall and rise since the Harmony Conflict ended."
Within Ling Xu, something stirred.
Not the Cancer affliction, which had grown quiet and obedient over the past four months, but old memories she had buried in the darkest corners of her consciousness—memories of her mother speaking of this city with shining eyes, of how, before everything was destroyed, gods from across the universe gathered here to discuss, to exchange knowledge, to dance and sing and celebrate a life beyond human imagination.
Haaaah!
They walked along the main streets of the fifth floating city, passing markets filled with merchants of various races—Goddesses with butterfly wings selling beauty elixirs, horned deer-like Gods displaying ancient weapons from before the Harmony Conflict, beings half-human, half-starlight trading information from distant galaxies not even recorded on any map.
And at every corner, every alley, every building, Ling Xu could feel a different pulse—a pulse she had never felt in the previous cities, a pulse that felt like… hope.
To be continued…