Chapter Fifty-Three: Assault in the Illusory Realm

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As Li Hao and his group of eight stepped through the Gate of the Void, the scene before them opened their eyes in astonishment.

“What an immense, top-tier pocket realm!” Lin Xueyou exclaimed in admiration.

Li Hao instantly understood—wasn’t this just like the Diagram of the Five Sages of Heaven and Earth that he and Lu Yao had studied for pill refinement last time? Yet, this pocket realm was different from the Diagram of the Five Sages. The Diagram could be taken away, but this pocket realm could only be destroyed and not carried off. In the Hall of the Divine Healer, as long as the Diagram was destroyed, the world within would vanish. But to erase this pocket realm, one would have to annihilate the entire space for the world to disappear.

“A realm as powerful as this one must be unique in the entire Lujiashan Star Domain. I wonder how such small worlds come into existence,” Lu Yao mused, her voice tinged with curiosity as she questioned those around her.

Lin Huashu replied, “It’s said that these pocket realms are created by those who have achieved the Heaven-and-Earth stage, forging a space with their own bodies as the world’s foundation. The laws of the realm mirror exactly the attributes of its creator. All the living beings within are drawn from the memories and experiences of the realm’s founder. Such realms only remain if their creator willingly separates from them. If the creator is killed or dies from other causes, the pocket realm collapses with them.”

Li Hao, still puzzled, turned to Lin Huashu. “Brother Huashu, if a strong cultivator separates from their own pocket realm, do they lose their power?”

Lin Huashu answered, “Not exactly.”

Li Hao said, “Then such a pocket realm isn’t all that important to these powerful cultivators, is it?”

Lin Xueyou shot her brother a look and explained to Li Hao, “Don’t listen to my brother’s nonsense, he’s just teasing you. For a cultivator, losing their pocket realm is far more severe than losing all their cultivation. If we lost our cultivation, we’d just become ordinary people. But think about it—someone who’s reached the Heaven-and-Earth stage is at least tens of thousands of years old. Ordinary people live only four or five hundred years at most. So, after losing their pocket realm, could such a cultivator even survive? The only way to leave behind a pocket realm is if the creator willingly passes on, and even then, it requires a great price—using their own soul as a pillar to seal it into space.”

Lin Huashu retorted, “I wasn’t finished yet. What I meant was, when a Heaven-and-Earth cultivator separates from their pocket realm, their power doesn’t disappear. But they do die. For example, this space we’re in now is precisely the manifestation of such a cultivator’s power, isn’t it?”

Lin Xueyou, hearing her brother’s explanation, realized she had misunderstood, and felt a touch embarrassed. Lin Huashu, understanding his sister’s mistake, held no grudge against her.

Lin Xueyou didn’t argue further, instead turning to Li Hao with a smile. “Li Hao, I misunderstood my brother—sorry about that!”

Lin Huashu could only sigh, “Ah, once a girl finds her beloved, her brother is forgotten. Truly, daughters are hard to keep at home.”

Lin Xueyou blushed at her brother’s words and shot him a glare.

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Li Hao realized now that his earlier comment—suggesting that pocket realms weren’t important to those at the Heaven-and-Earth stage—was also a misinterpretation of Lin Huashu’s meaning.

Lu Xuemei, observing the friendly banter around Li Hao, found them rather endearing and interjected to break the tension. “Both the Young Palace Lord and Sister Xueyou make good points. But these pocket realms differ from star domains born of the cosmos. According to the records, pocket realms created by Heaven-and-Earth cultivators are always at risk of collapse, while the star domains we inhabit—born of the universe—rarely change in millions of years.”

“Are the star domains in the void also pocket realms?” Li Hao suddenly found this astonishing.

“Yes, they are.”

...

Not far from their conversation, a pair of venomous, snake-like eyes fixed intently on Li Hao.

“Young master, once we’re inside the pocket realm, we’ll find a chance to quietly get rid of that brat.”

“Hmph! Excellent! You got lucky last time and escaped, but this time I’ll make sure you have no way out. Whoever kills that wretch, I’ll reward with a thousand soul coins.”

Hearing this tempting offer, the dozen or so youths clustered around Du Qingfeng were visibly excited, like men doused in chicken’s blood.

Li Hao, meanwhile, was unaware that just a short distance away, a group of young men was plotting his demise.

Once all the contestants had entered the pocket realm, the world suddenly erupted into chaos—storms swept the land, thunder and lightning split the sky, mountains and rivers shattered. This confirmed the words Lu Xuemei had spoken earlier: the pocket realm could collapse at any moment.

The world within flipped in an instant—the ground split apart, black clouds pressed down from above. Within just a dozen heartbeats, the young contestants were buried within.

Initially, panic spread among them. Someone shouted, “Don’t panic, this is an illusion, not reality!”

“No, this can’t be an illusion. Nothing could feel this real!”

“Just hold on a little longer, I can make it.”

“I can’t last any more—Father, Mother, forgive me.”

Within this illusion, a storm of emotions and thoughts battered every contestant’s mind. Though some tried to rally themselves, many couldn’t withstand the pressure and withdrew from the trial by crushing their identity tokens, forfeiting the first round. Most of those who quit were first-time participants, though some were in their second attempt. These second-timers faced the full force of three-hundred-year-old opponents and, fearing mental scars or soul damage from the illusion—and knowing there would be another chance next year—chose to withdraw.

Inside the illusion, failure to endure could result in severe soul damage at best, and total loss of consciousness at worst—leaving one a living husk. Of course, the rulers of Lujiashan Star Domain would never allow their young prodigies to perish here and had measures in place to prevent disaster.

Suddenly, before Li Hao’s eyes, a crackling sphere of lightning descended from the sky, headed straight for Lin Xueyou. Though he had only recently met her, and she enjoyed teasing and bickering with him, he didn’t dislike her in the least.

Seeing the thunderball about to strike Lin Xueyou, who seemed oblivious to the danger, Li Hao shouted anxiously:

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“Watch out!”

Lin Xueyou looked confused. Thinking she was paralyzed by fear, Li Hao dove forward and knocked her to the ground. She was caught off guard, bewildered by his actions, and couldn’t understand the terror in his eyes.

To Lin Xueyou, there was no thunderball—only snowflakes drifting down from the sky, about to settle on her head.

As Li Hao felt the thunderball strike him, he instantly lost consciousness, collapsing limply atop Lin Xueyou. She, seeing the snow about to bury her, tried to push the heavy Li Hao off her.

The thought flashed through her mind: “This little rascal—so sturdy, he’s nearly suffocating me.”

But before she could push him away, the snow covered them both. Without ever understanding what had happened, Lin Xueyou grew drowsy, struggling in vain to keep her eyes open.

Nearby, Lu Zhengtian called out in alarm, “Sister, watch out!” His sister, Lu Xuemei, puzzled by his sudden panic, saw him summon his golden spear and thrust it past her ear with unstoppable force. Looking back, she witnessed a strange sight: though she saw nothing behind her, her brother’s spear appeared to be halted by something invisible, as if an unseen barrier had solidly blocked it.

Lu Zhengtian, in his warning, had seen a dragon-like beast opening its gaping maw to swallow his sister. Unsure if it was real or a phantom, he dared not risk her safety. When he thrust his spear, he felt it strike something solid, and a shockwave from the beast left him reeling, blood surging, and unconscious.

Lu Xuemei, baffled by her brother’s actions, suddenly felt a fierce wind buffeting her face, distorting her features. She lasted only moments before losing consciousness as well.

Lin Huashu, witnessing Lu Yao’s sudden look of shock, turned—only to be struck by a boulder many times his size and rendered unconscious.

Lu Yao, noticing her companions’ strange behavior, was herself confused. As she turned to Lin Huashu, she saw him dissolving into nothingness, which explained his look of astonishment. When he vanished completely, she found herself alone. Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet began to collapse, and as she fell, she was pummeled by rocks and soil until she too lost consciousness.

Kuihu and his two companions were struck simultaneously by a massive fireball, hurled hundreds of yards through the air, and lost consciousness mid-flight.

...

Here, everyone found themselves faced with unique dangers, and all lost consciousness in the struggle. This was only the region for those under a hundred years old, but similar situations were unfolding elsewhere.

Each entrance into the pocket realm brought new illusions or trials; no two visits were ever the same. Some called it illusion, yet many could not believe it, for within the pocket realm, reality and illusion blurred together. For anyone below the Origin-Returning stage, it was impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood here.

No matter the danger or the strangeness of their situation, everyone fought with all their might, for a single careless moment could lead to utter ruin—no one dared risk it.

The circumstances faced by those within the pocket realm were invisible to outsiders. Only a Heaven-and-Earth cultivator, breaking the realm’s seal, could glimpse inside—and even then, could only relay what they saw by other means.

Within these realms, opportunities abounded, but so did peril. Many, seeing fortune within arm’s reach, would exhaust themselves and still come away empty-handed.

Opportunities, after all, only come to those with destiny on their side. For the unworthy, even if they stood before the prize, it would elude them. “Opportunity” itself is made up of “crisis” and “destiny”—only through crisis does true fortune arise.