Lin Xiaohe’s long whip coiled around the dimension-crossing vessel. At that same instant, Chu Huaizhi’s attack landed!
Lin Xiaohe felt as if she had been dragged into an endless, lightless eternal night—pain and guilt crashing over her like a tide.
Negative emotions coiled around her neck like vipers, tightening with every passing moment.
Was this a mental attack?
No—it was an attack on life-source itself!
Lin Xiaohe’s eyes snapped open. She gazed coldly at the boundless darkness around her, her grip on the whip firm—but the vessel at the other end had vanished.
Her crimson battle armor shielded her securely. Her eyes held not a trace of emotion, only an icy calm.
She stepped forward. The thick darkness and howling negativity surged toward her, only to recoil at her aura, keeping their distance, circling warily.
Her whip morphed into a longsword.
She drew the blade and struck—a slash that seemed to come from beyond the heavens, crystalline light flashing. With a soft cry: “Scram!”
The endless darkness split apart, revealing a narrow path just wide enough for one person.
At the end of the path sat a smooth, round sphere.
It was pristine white and crystalline, yet it burned like a silent, pale flame.
“Who are you?”
A blue light flickered across the sphere: “Astronaut identity scan… scan failed. Initiating visitor authentication mode.”
Lin Xiaohe’s scalp tingled. She felt as though an eye from a higher dimension was watching her, scrutinizing her inside and out.
This scrutiny couldn’t be blocked. It was like a human flipping open a book and easily taking in everything on the page.
The book had no way to refuse.
“Visitor authentication… failed.”
Lin Xiaohe quickly interjected: “Wait! I can still plead my case. Are you the dimension-crossing vessel?”
“No.” The sphere replied with precision. “I am part of the dimension-crossing vessel.”
Everywhere and nowhere at once.
It didn’t occupy a fixed physical space but existed within an independent microscopic dimension.
If not for her whip’s unique properties, Lin Xiaohe would never have found it.
She refused to give up: “How do I become your pilot or owner? I was once a candidate for the destined one—surely that counts for something?”
The sphere: “You’re asking me a question? Based on the principle of equal exchange, I can answer—but in return, you must tell me where you found the [Unmentionable Existence].”
“Fine.” Lin Xiaohe replied while keeping the sphere engaged—then, without warning, she lashed out with her whip, trying to snatch it away.
But this time, the whip passed straight through the sphere without catching anything.
The sphere didn’t seem angered by her sudden attack. Instead, it observed the whip with interest: “A three-dimensional construct with four-dimensional properties. Interesting.”
Lin Xiaohe withdrew her whip, and the two sides maintained a tense equilibrium.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
The sphere: “I don’t carry an individual’s fate—I carry the fate of an entire civilization. Human civilization has already made its choice and selected its destined one. It’s not you, so you cannot be my pilot.”
“Can’t we negotiate?”
“No.” The sphere stated flatly. “Now it’s your turn to answer my question.”
“I don’t really know either. It just sort of… fused into my body, and then I had it.”
“You’re being dishonest. You’re lying.”
Lin Xiaohe shrugged: “Alright, fine. Maybe it’s because I learned how to harness life-source.”
The sphere didn’t accuse her of lying again—as if it accepted her answer.
A flicker of suspicion passed through Lin Xiaohe’s eyes. That easily convinced? That doesn’t seem right.
Life-source was powerful, sure, but compared to that mysterious power, it was nothing.
Why was it so quick to believe her? Could it be that they didn’t possess life-source—only humans did?
She pressed further: “Who built you? Can you survive the great doomsday crisis?”
“That question—I refuse to answer.”
“Why?”
“Because you lack the ability to provide an equally valuable answer in return.”
Lin Xiaohe rolled her eyes. What a practical ship. “Fine. Then how do I get out of here?”
The sphere paused to consider: “But first, you have to answer me—how do you maintain a first-level energy balance structure under multi-particle states?”
That string of jargon gave Lin Xiaohe a headache.
Energy balance? What the heck is that?
The sphere seemed to notice her confusion and explained patiently: “Your body has fused human genetics, Zerg traits, the [Source Body] from the Panshi clan, and you’ve even activated life-source, among other things.”
It was like a chef grabbing a handful of random ingredients, tossing them into a pot, and somehow producing a decent stew—sweet, salty, spicy, sour, bitter—all opposing flavors blended together, and it actually tasted good.
What the sphere wanted to know was: how did that chef do it? What’s the recipe? Any details to watch out for?
“And what can you offer in return for an equal exchange?” Lin Xiaohe asked, mirroring its logic.
The sphere thought seriously for a moment: “I can trade you an accessory. It can monitor the collapse progress of this star sector in real time.”
Lin Xiaohe considered it and figured it’d work. It wasn’t like she had a recipe anyway—she couldn’t give exact measurements for oil, salt, soy sauce, or vinegar; all she could offer was “a pinch” here and “to taste” there.
The two sides reached an agreement.
Even though Lin Xiaohe’s answers were vague, the sphere kept its promise and handed over the accessory.
It was a circular patch that could be attached anywhere—even to an eyeball.
As soon as Lin Xiaohe took it, the entire space collapsed in an instant.
And right after that—Chu Huaizhi’s twisted, ferocious face appeared before her.
Lin Xiaohe was surrounded on all 360 degrees by Anidam’s tough, resilient branches.
She was trapped inside Anidam’s cage, and inside that same cage was Chu Huaizhi.
His eyes were ice-cold. His hands exploded like fireworks, sending countless vines hurtling toward her: “Die!”
This attack wasn’t limited to the 3rd dimension!
In the 4th dimension, her life-source form looked up—and there, a giant green net was descending from above, trying to cover the entire chessboard.
Her life-source wore a chilly expression, raising its spear. On the board, the chess pieces gleamed, and energy flowed along the grid lines toward her.
“In the name of the Holy Domain—I challenge Anidam to battle!”
The moment the words left her mouth, the green net furiously condensed, finally taking the shape of Li Qing.
Li Qing was forcibly bound by the rules of the Holy Domain to the “Commander” position on the back of the chessboard.
Life-source: “Set the pieces!”
The Stardust Humans received the Holy Domain’s summons and responded one after another.
Melina took the “Guard” position, Wesley the “Bishop,” Grandma Lin the “Knight”…
Everyone took their places.
Li Qing drew a deep breath. She had still underestimated Lin Xiaohe!
Still, her Holy Domain was too small—it couldn’t form a proper domain and suppress the enemy on all fronts.
“Chu Huaizhi as Cannon, Wu Zhen as Bishop…”
On the chessboard, both armies faced off across the river.
Lin Xiaohe’s advantage was home turf.
Li Qing’s advantage was superior individual combat power!
In the 4th dimension, war was about to erupt. This was the most critical battlefield between Lin Xiaohe and Anidam!
