My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 768 - When Myth Walks Among Us, the Wheel Turns Again; A Lone Boat Sets Sail for the Vast Sea - Part 2
Time marched on.
But humanity’s exploration never stopped.
And yet, no matter how far they reached into the stars, the cosmos continued to radiate a profound and almost unbearable loneliness. Compared to the vast, silent universe, noisy little Earth seemed to be shouting into a void, utterly alone and drenched in cosmic solitude.
In the cities, it was easy to forget. But those who often looked up at the night sky couldn’t help but feel small. And beneath that smallness stirred a deep, instinctive reverence.
For out there in the awe-inspiring depths of space, more and more fragments of myth began to surface.
Take the Classic of Mountains and Seas, once dismissed as an old geographical fantasy. But then came the discovery, the fossilized remains of a massive dragon floating in space, perfectly matching one described in the ancient text.
Or the fabled Jade Pool of the Immortals, thought to be a poetic metaphor, only to be identified as a planetary body orbiting a distant star, unmistakable in shape and placement.
At the edge of a black hole’s event horizon, sensors picked up a ghostly silhouette. It was a winged figure, rising skyward, holding aloft a giant stone. The image mirrored the myth of Nuwa, the goddess who patched the sky.
Then a probe returned footage that defied belief, hundreds of dead azure birds raining across the heavens like a meteor shower.
Myths long dismissed as legend...were stirring to life.
Scientists, once paragons of rationalism, began to find themselves believing.
But as they continued digging deeper, one pattern stood out. Many of these ancient legends, no matter their origin or theme, seemed somehow tied to a single symbol, Yuan. As if, hidden behind every story, there was once a sage...standing above all.
One scientist eventually proposed what became known as the Magic Mirror Hypothesis. It proposed that beneath the world we perceive lay another, a mythological world. And the relationship between the two was like looking through a warped mirror. What modern people saw as fable may be a reflection of something real, bent and twisted by the mirror’s curve.
The theory lacked hard evidence and was never formally accepted.
But it ignited a literary firestorm. Writers and poets dove in headfirst, their imaginations set ablaze. Across generations, new works bloomed. And as cosmic exploration progressed, some of these stories resurfaced, their relevance amplified anew. A few of them even rose to the level of national cultural treasures.
Bards wielding ancient instruments, lutes cradled to their chests, stood on grand national stages, singing of epics that might never be proven true. Entire orchestras composed symphonic trilogies in honor of ancient tales.
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Crunch, munch, crunch...
Inside one such national theater...a boy chomped on potato chips, utterly unconcerned with decorum.
A dignified woman beside him swatted him with a sharp slap, then turned to the man on her other side. “Look at your son. Honestly, he’s such a nuisance. Can’t you control him?”
The man pulled the boy in with one arm, snatched the chips from his hands, and said, “Son, I don’t know what trick you used to smuggle chips into a venue like this, but clearly, this is not the place for them.”
With that, he stuffed the bag into his coat.
The boy didn’t argue. He just turned back to the stage.
The curtain was about to rise on a musical. It was a classic first performed hundreds of years ago, the Azurebird Trilogy.
It was an adaptation of celestial myth.
To the boy, though, this musical was painfully boring.
The woman shot him a sharp glare, her eyes flashing.
“Little brat,” she muttered under her breath.
The man chuckled and wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders.
“Let’s switch seats, buddy,” he said with a grin.
He shifted into the middle seat, gently took the woman’s hand, and added, “Come on, Xie Wei, don’t be mad. The show’s starting. The first act...the music’s grand, but there’s a kind of sorrow to it too. Like a sky full of azure birds streaking across the stars. But they’re not birds, they’re corpses. And that starry sky is cold and silent. All those azure birds are flying straight toward the core of the Arkelani system into the abyss.”
“Alright, alright. I’m watching,” the woman said, softening. She leaned her head toward him and whispered, “Honey.”
The couple nestled close as the stage lights came alive and the musical began.
A violin’s soft hum spread through the theater like nightfall settling across a quiet world. Then came the rising call of trumpets, as if summoning the arrival of the great bluebirds. Yet no matter how stirring, how triumphant the crescendo, it was still the procession of the dead. If not for the probes that had captured them, no one would have ever known those azure birds had flown at all.
The man’s name was Li Yuan.
He sat still, reclining slightly in his seat, eyes locked on the stage as the music washed over him. In his mind, flocks of azurebirds soared across the galaxy.
A strange sadness crept into his heart, along with a feeling he couldn’t quite explain, as if he’d lived this before, seen it with his own eyes.
Then he chuckled quietly to himself.
No wonder they’re called the National Symphony Ensemble, he thought. This music really gets to you.
The Arkelani System was a vast realm that encompassed countless galaxies.
And somewhere within its star-forged abyss, a goddess sat cross-legged in the void...and suddenly opened her eyes.
The entire system echoed in resonance with her awakening.
Each breath she drew stirred violent cosmic winds. A mere flick of her hand or a shift of her foot could shake stars apart.
“It’s done,” she whispered.
For the first time in eternity, she felt...whole.
She had merged with the Dao. She was now the final manifestation of the Heavenly Dao for this cosmic era.
But all others who once walked her path were gone. Dead, dissolved, or asleep so long they teetered at the edge of oblivion.
With a single thought, lotus blossoms bloomed beneath her.
Twelve golden, twelve black, red.
She plucked a single petal, not to act, not to wield its power, but simply to hold it and remember.
Her gaze drifted inward. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂
Memories surged up, visions of bloodshed and divine war. The first seeds of slaughter had been sown the moment the Violet Heaven Palace opened its gates and invited the great beings to speak. Even the battle for seating back then had already foretold disaster. What followed was endless carnage, unceasing calamity.
For countless years, Immortals and Gods had fallen like summer rain, perishing one by one, sacrificed on the altar of destiny. It had all been for one purpose, to find the one who could mend the Heavens.
And now, she had taken the final step.
She had become the Dao.
With a glance, she could pierce the veil of the present.
With another, she could see the shape of things to come.
Her eyes turned toward the mortal world, and surprise flickered across her face. Humanity had taken a different path. It was a path of science and technology.
Then she looked further, into the far future, and her expression grew solemn.
Destruction still loomed.
But hidden within that destruction...was a faint thread of hope.
The goddess began calculating the path to that one sliver of hope.
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In the blink of an eye, millions of years passed.
Human technology had reached heights that defied imagination. Earth, once the cradle of their species, had been transformed into a colossal starship, capable of traversing the galaxy at will. With this leap forward, one long-standing theory was finally confirmed: humanity truly was the last civilization in the universe.
But the question of why they were the last remained unsolved, a mystery still begging to be unraveled.
Even with their fleet of vast starships, there remained regions of space that humanity could not penetrate.
The Abyssal Rift was one of them.
Humanity had attempted to survey it once. The results were chilling. All forms of energy within the rift would rapidly decay and vanish without a trace. The cause was unknown, though many suspected the presence of some undiscovered form of matter or force.
