The Stars Beyond

"You're not in a bad spot, really; you're solidifying your foundation. Your cultivation was a bit airy before," Wang Xuan comforted Chen Yongjie.

"That makes sense. It's a good opportunity to consolidate," agreed Chen, nodding. His recent breakthroughs had been incredibly rapid, almost alarmingly so. Indeed, a moment to pause and appreciate the journey would serve him well for the next leap forward.

Of course, compared to Wang Xuan, his progress was gentle as a drizzle; his reflection was merely in contrast to some historical figures.

In a remote mountain eight hundred miles away, the Sword Fairy, despite possessing a crystal of creation, had shrunk a bit from the shockwave. With a huff, she glared with wide eyes, sketching a familiar figure on the ground with a tiny sword before poking at it aggressively.

Anticipating this reaction, Wang Xuan hadn't dared visit her, opting to let the little sprite cool off to avoid a "sword practice" session upon meeting.

"Wang Xuan, it's you, it has to be! Shaking me, jolting me again. What kind of freak are you? Annoying, really. Are you trying to keep me small on purpose?"

...

Wang Xuan rinsed his body with cold water, his skin glistening, illuminated by a strange brilliance—a result of reaching the upper limits of life. Indeed, the eleventh realm was quite extraordinary.

Yet, after a brief circulation of his scriptures and employing secret techniques to conceal his aura, he returned to his usual self, not wishing to stand out too much, though his skin... was unnaturally perfect.

He changed into his practice clothes and handed Chen Yongjie a large bunch of tea fruits, signaling him to keep quiet and to meditate on the scriptures when in doubt, and to steep the fruits in water as a leisurely drink when pondering.

"I... wow!" exclaimed Chen, astounded.

"Go on, sneak these tea fruits to the Sword Fairy," Wang Xuan instructed, passing another bunch. The little sprite was trustworthy, after all.

"Why don't you go yourself? Scared of getting thrashed?"

"Right now, she might not be able to beat me."

Wang Xuan then left the area to stroll through Ancheng, eager to gauge the atmosphere following the suppression of the Transcendent ceiling. Unexpectedly, he ended up at Huang Ming's Exiled Immortal Tea House.

Contrary to his expectations, everything seemed calm, almost numb; the populace wasn't as panicky as before, having accepted the reality of their situation.

Huang Ming greeted him warmly, serving exquisite tea, "What's there to rail against fate for? If it's decreed we live ordinary lives, let the heavens shake us as they will; I've fully accepted my lot!"

"I, too, have accepted... Ah, spit!" Zhou Qinghuang, a regular here, caught herself mid-sentence, promptly refining her words, "My fate is not mine to command, powerless to alter the course set by the heavens, I shall let nature take its path."

Not far off, Gu Mingxi was whispering with Zhou Shiqi, discussing a potential endorsement deal. Gu, the fairy, planned to start a beauty company with Zhou Qinghuang.

"Even you've turned to business, gravitating towards commerce?" Wang Xuan was surprised. The sentiment post his excursion was complex; mythical beings had lost their spirit, none willing to contend with the impending Transcendent winter. All had ceased their struggle.

"With no choice left, ideals are often crushed by reality. Unable to resist, we must follow the prevailing current," someone said, their voice tinged with regret but quickly turned to engage eagerly in business plans with those around them.

An elder Transcendent spoke up, "The end of the Transcendent era is a cosmic decision, a vibrant flash in the historical continuum soon to fade. Though reluctant, we must learn to accept this reality. Unless one chooses to perish with the curtain's fall, listening to the swan song of the immortal realms, we can only adapt to the unstoppable trend."

"Yes, the overwhelming force of history cannot be opposed; to try is to be ground into dust, meeting a graveless death," another sighed.

Their words revealed an underlying unwillingness, but with no alternatives, they had to let go.

Another added, "Since we choose to live, not to perish with the realms beyond, we must adjust to this transformative era. What matters is living well. Transcendent history is behind us; it's time to level our hearts to work and dwell, hoping the future brings novelty and hope rather than a dismal existence in the corners of the Old Earth and New Star."

Wang Xuan remained silent, sipping his tea quietly. Having breached the threshold of mythical frontier, initially elated and ready to confront his adversaries, investigate the malignant dragon, and cut off its lingering power in this world, he now felt an unexpected dampening of spirits.

This wasn't the Transcendent world Wang Xuan had dreamed of. The myths had vanished, leaving everyone bereft of their fighting spirit, abandoning their paths and aspirations amidst regrets.

Many Transcendents were striving to adapt and blend into ordinary lives, which left Wang Xuan lost in thought. Was everything he pursued destined to turn into nothingness?

In his ideal Transcendent world, lifting mist to ascend the heavens, seeking immortality, were just daily affairs. Monks could enter the sun and moon, ride dragons to the vast palace of the moon, and travel far to attend grand feasts in the Jade Lake. The immense and dazzling world of immortality was filled with endless fortunes, mystical beasts, divine herbs, and boundless lands.

There should be colorful secret realms of immortality and bizarre territories awaiting exploration. Competitions of sword qi piercing the skies, sanctuaries where one could refine elixirs for centuries, realizing the various dreams that stir a young heart.

Like those legends, with a young heart full of zeal, embarking on journeys to vanquish demons and traverse the vast primitive lands, engaging in fierce battles, growing amidst confrontations with all manner of geniuses, witnessing the grandeur and historical depth of a true immortal civilization.

Wang Xuan shook his head. Those childhood thoughts, now, seemed unattainable. As he grew up and truly became a Transcendent, the decay of the path of immortality and the collapse of the Transcendent world rendered everything meaningless.

This was an era of drastic change. The so-called dreams of the Transcendent, now, seemed unrealistic. Where was that grand world for him to experience, to live through?

The colorful civilization of the immortal realm now appeared frail, pallid, soon to become a dusty, ancient scroll on the wall.

"I just can't accept this!" A Transcendent slumped over the table, then fell silent, hiding the reddening corners of their eyes. Their era was gone, never to return.

Some even worried that upon the return of the superwarships from deep space, they might be targeted and purged.

"Let it be, why worry so much? The future lies in the battles of commerce, in trade. At worst, we'll set up stalls, labor hard, and if really needed, provide blood for research labs to study. In this era, we won't starve."

Some spirits waned, yet many adapted swiftly, engaging in discussions about various plans—transplanting fruit trees from the realm of immortals, cultivating new species, opening longevity clinics to extend human lives. Conversations grew animated as the Transcendents expressed willingness to collaborate, to lend each other support, to collectively seek investment.

In a corner sat Mo Si, silent, draining cup after cup of tea without uttering a word. A purist in cultivation, he had always fought against the dying light of transcendence. But in this age, as the mythic era waned under the onslaught of the mundane world, his defenses crumbled.

He felt the desolation of deep autumn, where all life withers, as he rose and departed in solitude.

"My envisioned world of transcendence, barely explored, now faces extinction," Wang Xuan sighed softly. His recent breakthrough left him unsettled, touched by an inexplicable chill.

Frowning, he recognized the onset of a major epochal shift. Despite his confidence in finding a path forward, he knew it would be a long time before he could alter the overarching trend.

History was littered with confident beings from myriad mythic civilizations, including those beyond compare who perished without altering their fates. To the Transcendent, the eternal night was vast and dark, the occasional flicker of light too faint to matter.

Should he prepare a fallback plan for himself? If reduced to ordinariness in the future, with undying dreams yet no means or foundation to sustain them, how could he continue amidst such terrifying consumption?

Yet, opening this door, he feared it might tear a corner in his conviction, seeding doubt, undermining his resolve.

"Even as a commoner, bereft of power or Transcendent capabilities, I wouldn't starve. But to give up the path of transcendence is unthinkable; I must continue exploring. It's not a wavering of faith, but a necessary precaution against a barren era."

In the teahouse, amidst the conversations of Transcendents planning their survival and development, abandoning the path of cultivation for the tangibles of reality, Wang Xuan listened.

Was there fault in their logic? None. It was a rational choice. Yet, as an outsider, Wang Xuan felt a profound loneliness, his sigh deeper than theirs, his heart tinged with a bitterness that seemed even more acute than theirs at the downfall of the world of transcendence.

"To witness such brilliance only to lose it, to never stand at the pinnacle yet to descend with darkness into the abyss—in this grand era, to personally experience its decline. The vast Immortal Realm, the splendid mythological civilization, I do not know if this is a final farewell or just a temporary departure, but it is time to say goodbye!" With these words, Wang Xuan rose and departed.

Fang Yuzhu, Yan Yan, Zhang Daoling, and Ming Xue had sent back information via an ancient spacecraft, informing Wang Xuan that they were venturing far away for one final struggle, but they did not elaborate further.

"In this era, few continue down this path, aside from those in the realm of Gaotian; nearly all other Transcendents have relinquished their pursuit," Wang Xuan felt a heavy sadness.

"Could it be, one day, as a modern man, I'll become the last follower of the Dao? With everyone else who returned from behind the great veil having given up, leaving me as the lone struggler in the cold and dark night, clinging to the Transcendent path?" he mused bitterly.

Such a day would be profoundly sorrowful, signifying universal defeat, the abandonment by all immortals, void of any glimmer of hope.

If that day indeed arrived, over time, those around him might fail to understand his solitary journey. Against the backdrop of such an epoch, a single figure pressing onward isn't just a personal choice; it's an exposition of cruelty and harsh reality under the crashing waves of a grand era.

"While I still possess strength, I should try bringing back Goddess Zhao and Wu Yin home," Wang Xuan resolved to venture into the depths of space.

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