No matter how abundant one person’s life essence is, it can never compare to the combined essence of millions upon millions of people.
Lin Xiaohe could no longer draw from her life essence.
She slowed down and glanced back. Behind her, the pillar of light was collapsing inch by inch, sinking into the void.
A dead, silent void, mercilessly devouring everything within the pillar of light.
Her speed increased; the distance grew.
It would soon catch up to the Adjudicator.
The Adjudicator had probably stopped in place because it could see no hope.
The Giant Sound Whale elder floated within the light pillar, utterly exhausted, letting the light rays slice through it inch by inch. In its wise eyes, only despondency and resignation remained.
Lin Xiaohe withdrew her gaze and stopped looking back.
She was silent for a moment, then once again ignited her own life essence.
If failure was inevitable, what was the point of keeping her life essence? Better to go all out—perhaps there was still a sliver of hope.
Lin Xiaohe started moving again, step by step closing in on the four spacecraft ahead.
Within the Sanctuary, her life essence dissipated rapidly. By the time it was reduced to a single wisp of curling blue smoke, the “Holy Codex” at the center of the smoke erupted with dazzling golden light.
The golden light shone upon the Sanctuary chessboard, and the entire board came alive.
Within the white mist, outlines gradually took shape, condensing into pure white figures. They stepped off the chessboard and stood in neat rows along the grid lines, like spirits awaiting inspection—silent and solemn.
Lin Xiaohe’s heart trembled. She saw many familiar figures—the Stardust humans who had sacrificed themselves on battlefields across the ages.
These white figures lined up and, without hesitation, flew toward Lin Xiaohe’s life essence.
Her life essence visibly swelled, gradually taking on a humanoid outline.
“You all…” Lin Xiaohe’s nose stung with emotion.
That’s right. After the Seventh Era, there is no more reincarnation.
These sacrificed Stardust humans—their life essences had returned to the Sanctuary, and at the most critical moment, they stepped forward once again!
With their help, Lin Xiaohe charged through the light pillar like a wild horse freed from its reins, quickly overtaking the Aura people’s spacecraft, then Chang Qing, then Chu Huaizhi, then Jörmungandr!
Lin Xiaohe could now clearly see the universe on the other side of the tunnel’s end—a vast darkness, with only a few distant stars giving off limited light.
Such low density, such sparse galaxies—yet it was a normal universe.
Lin Xiaohe was exhausted. Only three or five sparse white figures remained in the Sanctuary.
She had no doubt that if she dared to stop, the powerful pulling force would drag her backward into the void!
“Come on, just a little further! You’re the strongest in the universe—you can do it!”
Lin Xiaohe cheered herself on and struggled to take another step.
Behind her, the four spacecraft were moving as slowly as snails.
The light pillar tunnel shook violently. The exit was growing smaller and smaller, as if only one spacecraft could fit through.
Chu Huaizhi’s face was ashen: “We’re not going to make it out.”
At the speed of the dimension-piercing ships, by the time they crawled to the exit, the tunnel would have long since collapsed.
“Damn it! Damn it all!! If only we had more life essence…”
Unfortunately, there was no “if.”
He and Nüwa could only watch helplessly as the exit shrank smaller and smaller.
Behind them, the Aura people’s spacecraft had reached its absolute limit. It attempted one final dimensional jump, only to discover that the dimensions within the light pillar had been completely locked down.
“Alas, what a terrifying cage.” The Aura people let out a sigh. Rather than waste more energy, they chose to record as much information about the light pillar as possible.
When their lives were about to end, they would compress and condense the entire spacecraft into an information storage device.
This storage device might dissipate into the void, or it might luckily escape and drift through a corner of this desolate universe.
It might wander for billions upon billions of years, but one day, a passing starfaring civilization would eventually pick it up.
And the vast stream of information within the storage device could propel that lucky starfaring civilization to leap directly to a Level 5 civilization—and guide them to explore the ultimate mysteries of the universe.
“Begin compression!”
The Aura people’s spacecraft compression process was dazzlingly colorful, full of technological beauty.
Seeing the Aura people completely give up on escaping, Jörmungandr sneered contemptuously.
“Cowards!”
Inside his dimension-piercing ship, the crimson glow of burning life essence had dimmed to its utmost limit.
The silver warship’s speed inevitably slowed.
Jörmungandr’s face was expressionless as he continued burning his life essence.
Even if he was going to die, he would fight to the very last moment.
One step behind Jörmungandr, Chang Qing sat in the control room, eyes downcast, no one knew what he was thinking.
The control room was utterly silent—so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop.
There was not a single ordinary human left on the warship. They had all, in the course of the journey, transformed into clusters of life essence, becoming the driving force of the warship’s advance.
Lin Chiyang couldn’t help but speak up: “Why don’t you extract our life essence?”
Chang Qing turned his head mechanically. His eyeballs were like the growth rings of a millennium-old tree—thoroughly inhuman.
Throughout the entire silver warship, many Awakened ones still remained.
Chang Qing had obtained them by trading an extremely precious observation record to Lin Xiaohe.
Chang Qing stared at Lin Chiyang. This reckless human had sharp, hard facial features—not at all resembling Lin Xiaohe.
But he was just lucky enough to become Lin Xiaohe’s family across several lifetimes.
Why should he be?
Chang Qing’s mouth corners drooped.
He should extract their life essence. He had kept them alive precisely so they could be useful at a critical moment.
Chang Qing’s finger rested on the button, but he could never bring himself to press it.
In the end, as if all strength had drained from him, Chang Qing moved his hand away from the button.
Forget it. The life essence of just these few Awakened ones wouldn’t be enough to carry the silver warship to the exit anyway.
“I just don’t want to waste effort, that’s all. It’s not like there’s any other reason.”
Chang Qing stared at the distant Lin Xiaohe, who had almost become a streak of flowing light, and the corners of his mouth curved up involuntarily.
Lin Xiaohe had no idea what was happening behind her. Just taking one step forward consumed all of her mental energy.
Suddenly, she saw a half heart.
It was in the light pillar, bobbing up and down with the ripples of light.
It no longer beat, as if utterly lifeless. Even the blood that had once been bright red had grown dim.
“The Witch Clan’s Sacred Ship!”
Lin Xiaohe gasped.
She had vivid memories of the scene when the Witch Clan broke through the town. It was the grandest, most tragic scene she had ever witnessed!
At the time, she had desperately hoped the Witch Clan’s Sacred Ship could successfully break through the cage.
She knew the probability was zero, but she still hoped for it.
Lin Xiaohe completely lost control of her hand as it reached toward the half heart.
That was the Witch Clan’s Sacred Ship!
Carrying the hopes of all Witch Clan people, the Sacred Ship that had nearly torn a gap in the cage.
So it had been inside the light pillar all along—so close to the exit!
Lin Xiaohe’s fingertip touched the half heart. It instantly shrank and appeared above the fourth-dimensional Sanctuary.
Do you remember this heart? Someone guessed it right before!
