Lin Xiaohe’s state was very strange.
After she finished reciting the sacrificial offering, she felt as though something had merged into her body—her already profound and mysterious soul had grown even stronger.
But at the same time, she knew with absolute clarity that she could never enter the Sacred Stele again.
Her soul had been struck from its rolls.
Lin Xiaohe looked around. On all sides, she was shrouded in gray mist, and about a step away, a floating platform hovered, emitting a soft, glowing blue light.
She only hesitated for a brief moment before decisively stepping onto the platform.
The platform rose slowly, parting the gray mist. Suddenly, a beam of light descended from above, piercing through the mist and illuminating the platform.
Bathed in this golden light, Lin Xiaohe felt an unprecedented warmth—comfortable, serene, and deeply relaxing.
The platform rose against the light, surging upward, level by level, until it reached the very top—where there was nothing at all, not even the gray mist.
Startled by this sudden and drastic change, Lin Xiaohe immediately went on high alert.
Then, in the empty space, a cracking sound echoed, as if the space itself was being torn apart by bare hands, revealing a small fissure.
A pitch-black humanoid figure with indistinct features squeezed out through the gap.
“I imagine you prefer a human form.”
The voice was neither male nor female, neither old nor young—layered and complex.
It was clear he was trying to project goodwill, but Lin Xiaohe did not let her guard down. “Who are you?”
“Who I am doesn’t matter. From the moment you gave up your identity as the Chosen One, you no longer have the clearance to know the answer to that question.”
Lin Xiaohe shot back, “So?”
“I just wanted to see you. Originally, among all the civilizations of this era, I had the highest hopes for you.”
Lin Xiaohe: “Since you think so highly of me, surely you wouldn’t mind telling me a bit more?”
The dark figure let out a strange laugh. “Of course. By now, you must already know that the Great Annihilation is approaching—an unprecedented world-ending crisis. Given the current level of human technology, your chances of survival are zero.”
Lin Xiaohe agreed with that assessment.
As someone who had witnessed the Witch Clan’s sacred vessel fail to break the formation, no matter how confident she was, she wouldn’t dare claim she could survive such a catastrophe.
The dark figure clicked his tongue in regret. “You have no idea what you’ve given up. For candidates who successfully pass the Sacred Stele’s trial, we grant them a Dimension-Vessel. If you hadn’t already been able to enter the Fourth Dimension and possess your own Holy Domain, I wouldn’t have even told you this much.”
A Dimension-Vessel?!
“Which dimension can it traverse to?”
The dark figure: “That question is beyond your clearance.”
Lin Xiaohe’s heart sank.
Right now, she could only project her spiritual power into the Fourth Dimension—her physical body couldn’t follow.
As for the Lin family, the Wesleys, and the others—they couldn’t even manage that much, not even the Elder of the Giant Sound Whales.
If transcending dimensions was the only way to escape the Great Annihilation, then everyone, including Lin Xiaohe herself, would be wiped out.
But this person before her claimed they had Dimension-Vessels!
Lin Xiaohe didn’t buy it. “Since you have Dimension-Vessels, why don’t you just leave yourselves?”
“How do you know we haven’t left? This isn’t my true body—just a wisp of residual consciousness I left behind in the Sacred Stele.”
The dark figure didn’t want to let Lin Xiaohe ask any more questions. “In this era of civilization, there are four candidates in total. Each candidate has three slots for affiliated races. The fact that you can integrate with the Zerg and that the Stardust Plants thrive within you—all of that was thanks to your status as the Chosen One.”
“Even though you’ve been struck from the rolls, we won’t take back what we’ve already given. If you want to lead Stardust Humanity through this calamity, I suggest you protect the remaining candidates and become their affiliated race under the name of Stardust Humanity.”
Lin Xiaohe was skeptical of this proposal.
Everyone knew that things heavily advertised and strongly recommended were rarely good.
Wasn’t this dark figure saying all of this just to get her to do the heavy lifting?
Lin Xiaohe curled her lip inwardly. She’d already given up her candidacy—why on earth would she go out of her way to protect other candidates just for a affiliated race slot?
How much water would have to be in her brain, how much fake alcohol would she have to drink, to make a choice like that?
As for the Dimension-Vessel…
She didn’t have one, but she could always just take one from another candidate!
“Who are the candidates?”
“Chu Huaizhi, Beiside, and…”
Before he could finish, the entire space began to shake violently, and the dark figure was sucked back into the fissure.
Lin Xiaohe felt like she’d been thrown into a washing machine, spinning wildly.
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
Lin Xiaohe was spat out of the Sacred Stele, slamming hard into the Elder of the Giant Sound Whales.
“Oww!” The Elder yelped in pain—both delighted and distressed.
Lin Xiaohe painfully pried herself out of the Elder’s plump belly, turned to look back at Haige Star, and her expression drastically changed.
“Where did that huge Haige Star go?”
The Elder replied in awe, “It became part of the Sacred Stele. Xiaohe, where did you go? What happened? Did Chu Huaizhi set you up?”
“It’s a long story. Let’s head back to Kyushu Star first.”
“Aren’t we going to negotiate with the humans anymore?” The Elder couldn’t hide its relief.
It didn’t like humans, especially not Chu Huaizhi.
“No more negotiations.”
Lin Xiaohe pondered silently—had Chu Huaizhi deliberately used negotiation tactics to set the meeting at Haige Star?
Had he known all along that she was the Chosen One, and deliberately pushed her toward the Sacred Stele?
And if he knew—did he also know that he was one of the candidates?
If he did know, then why hadn’t he gone to the Sacred Stele himself? The rewards for being the first to clear the trial should have been even greater.
Was he just using her to test the waters, to see if there was any danger?
As for the candidates and the rewards—she only learned about all that after entering the Sacred Stele and meeting the dark figure.
What about Chu Huaizhi?
How much did he know, and where did he get his information? Were there secrets within the Federation that even she didn’t know about?
That shouldn’t be possible.
With Xinbao around, she could even browse the Security Department’s classified archives at will.
Lin Xiaohe rubbed her temples in frustration. One problem solved, and a dozen more popped up—like an infinite set of nesting dolls. This entire star sector was full of secrets.
Pulling herself back to the present, she noticed a message from Kailin·Reynaud: “Chu Huaizhi… though his body is dead, his heart still beats.”
She raised an eyebrow. Kailin·Reynaud was no simple woman. If she’d been pushed to this point, something major must have happened in the First Star Ring—very likely related to Anidam.
Lin Xiaohe and the Giant Sound Whale Elder sped up their journey. When they passed by Vitara Star, she even took some time to check in with Chen Kuan and the head of the Star Harvest Cult.
When Chen Kuan heard Lin Xiaohe ask if he’d be willing to go to Kyushu Star, he shook his head like a rattle-drum.
He’d founded the Cheapskate Cult purely for the money—not because he actually believed in anything. Besides, what was so great about Kyushu Star? A lonely little planet with a tiny population—boring as hell.
The Star Harvest Cult, on the other hand, was overjoyed. They agreed on a time, and Lin Xiaohe said she’d send someone to pick them up later.
As for the lobby manager, he smiled and declined: “When we gather, we’re a blazing fire; when we scatter, we’re stars across the sky. Just let this insignificant little star of mine become a spark that sets Vitara Star ablaze.”
