Tiger Soul Research Institute, Training Room.
Feng Qi gripped the wooden training sword in his right hand. His upper body, bare, revealed a frame of lean yet powerful muscle. His gaze was locked onto a wooden stake a short distance away.
Inside his chest, the fire of blade momentum burned fiercely.
With a brief moment of concentration, Feng Qi's wooden sword slashed forward, leaving behind an afterimage.
Crack!
A sharp sound echoed through the training room as the wooden stake split cleanly in half. The remaining pieces were shredded by the lingering blade aura, scattering wood fragments in every direction.
Seeing this, Feng Qi instinctively retracted his sword—even his post-strike movement had been learned from the memory fragments he absorbed.
The Demon Blade's memories contained vast amounts of knowledge about swordsmanship and blade techniques, detailing not only the art of wielding a blade but also the deeper philosophy behind it.
Having seen those memories repeatedly, Feng Qi had subconsciously grasped the essence of blade momentum.
This strike was one of the many techniques he had learned from the Demon Blade's memories.
As the momentum dissipated, Feng Qi let out a long breath.
Pressing his fingers against his temples, which still throbbed faintly with pain, he turned toward the Mist Lord, who was sitting casually on a nearby sofa.
The spatial passage test had been completed, and the results were satisfactory.
If everything proceeded as planned, only two more test runs were needed before they could officially initiate the Burial Ambush Plan.
During this time, however, an unexpected situation had occurred.
Due to the Demon Blade's sudden descent, the Mist Lord had been forcibly knocked unconscious for four whole days.
Throughout that time, Feng Qi had kept him submerged in a blood pool, and it was only two days ago that the Mist Lord finally regained consciousness.
But Feng Qi wasn't particularly worried about the Mist Lord's condition.
After all, as long as he retained his strong will to survive, the protection of the Miracle Will ensured that he could never truly die—it was just a matter of how long the recovery would take.
Feng Qi walked over to the sofa and sat beside the Mist Lord.
He reached for a mental soothing agent from the coffee table and took a few swigs before glancing at the Mist Lord, who was absorbed in reading something on his tablet.
Curious, Feng Qi tilted his head.
The screen displayed densely packed text, suggesting he was going through some kind of document or information archive.
At that moment, the Mist Lord turned to Feng Qi.
"The aftereffects of reading those memories haven't faded yet?"
Feng Qi shrugged.
"I still need some time to fully digest it, but it's not affecting me much anymore."
Hearing this, the Mist Lord nodded, his gaze shifting toward the pile of shredded wood on the ground. A slight smile appeared on his face.
"I never expected 'Nightmare' to have such an interesting application. If you had the ability of 'Infinite Memory,' absorbing the experiences of powerful warriors would be immensely beneficial. Their lifetime of knowledge would become your treasure trove."
Feng Qi let out a helpless sigh.
"The problem is, I don't have 'Infinite Memory,' nor do I even know where to find it. If I keep forcefully extracting memories like this, it'll kill me sooner or later."
As he spoke, Feng Qi's gaze shifted toward the Mist Lord's tablet.
"What are you reading?"
"A collection of fantasy and xianxia novels written by humans."
Feng Qi was momentarily stunned.
"You're reading that? Why?"
"It's a way to better understand humanity."
The Mist Lord said it so matter-of-factly that it caught Feng Qi off guard.
Then, he continued:
"But after reading several of these novels, I've noticed something puzzling. Can you help clarify it for me?"
"Like what?"
"Setting aside the protagonist's ridiculously overpowered abilities, since these stories are fictional and combat power isn't the main issue, I want to understand this—"
His expression became serious as he asked:
"Why is it that in most of these novels, the older the technique, the stronger it is? What's the logic behind that?"
Feng Qi blinked, not expecting the question.
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it. Modern cultivation techniques are always depicted as inferior to ancient ones. Ancient techniques are always said to be weaker than 'prehistoric' ones. It's as if the power level of a technique is directly tied to how old it is. Doesn't that seem illogical?"
The Mist Lord frowned slightly, clearly deep in thought.
"For example, in the real world, early cultivation techniques during the early days of the catastrophe were crude and inefficient. But over time, through humanity's efforts, cultivation science was gradually refined. Doesn't this prove that the further into the future a cultivation technique is developed, the more perfected and advanced it becomes?"
Feng Qi rolled his eyes.
"Why are you so fixated on this? Even your Mist Clan was at its strongest during the era of your ancestors."
The Mist Lord shook his head.
"No. If we exclude our ancestors, the Mist Clan's true peak was actually when I was leading as the Clan Chief."
His voice was calm, yet firm.
"Our ancestor's immense strength artificially elevated the Mist Clan to a position it could not sustain. When he died, our clan rapidly declined—not because we grew weaker, but because our power had never truly matched the vast territory we controlled."
"As for the Mist Clan's cultivation techniques, they were refined over generations. By my time, they had surpassed those of our ancestors in efficiency and effectiveness."
Pausing for a moment, he added:
"Of course, I won't deny that after my ancestor's death, the Mist Clan became stronger than when I first became Clan Chief. But that strength didn't come from improved cultivation techniques—it was purely the result of resource accumulation."
The Mist Lord's expression remained steady as he elaborated:
"Let me put it this way—after our ancestor's death, the Mist Clan had a total combat strength of 10. But reaching that power level required an investment of 100 units of resources. The efficiency of turning resources into strength was incredibly low."
"However, during my time as Clan Chief, the Mist Clan's combat strength was only 1, but I only needed 1 unit of resources to reach that strength. The conversion efficiency was far superior."
Feng Qi had once firmly believed that domain creatures were evil, while humanity represented righteousness.
But as his understanding of the world and the relationships between species deepened, his perspective began to shift.
Now, he had already abandoned the concept of good and evil.
The truth was cruel—there was no absolute righteousness or wickedness in the battle for survival. There were only winners and losers.
The history of the domain world had always been one of slaughter and survival. From the moment a species was born, it was thrust into this grand game of natural selection.
Only those strong enough to carve a place for themselves, to secure enough resources for their own survival, could persist through time.
The weak?
They were erased without leaving a trace, mere footnotes in history.
The fusion of the domain world and the human world had thrown humanity into this deadly contest, forcing them to adapt or perish.
This was why he had dedicated himself to altering the future.
The true war had not yet arrived, but it was inevitable. Humanity could not afford to be passive; they had to grow stronger before the ultimate battlefield took shape.
This was a battle that would determine the fate of all species.
His train of thought was interrupted as he glanced at the Mist Lord, who was still flipping through his tablet, eyes scanning through dense text.
After a moment of silence, Feng Qi suddenly asked, "Old Mist, have you ever heard of the Artifact Clan?"
The Mist Lord raised an eyebrow, turning his gaze toward Feng Qi. "Artifact Clan?"
"Yes. In the memories I absorbed from Demonic Blade, I saw records mentioning that the Blade Clan was actually a branch of a once-powerful race—the Artifact Clan. Does that name ring a bell?"
The Mist Lord furrowed his brows, clearly deep in thought. Moments later, his expression changed slightly.
"You mean the Artifact Clan, the dominant force that once ruled the second layer of the Spirit Domain?"
"That's the one," Feng Qi nodded. "If I'm not mistaken, the collapse of the Artifact Clan was triggered by a slave revolt in a mining cave. And that revolt… was most likely led by your old ancestor."
The Mist Lord's expression stiffened for a moment.
Through Demonic Blade's memories, Feng Qi had seen the detailed historical records of the Artifact Clan's downfall.
The descriptions matched perfectly with the Mist Lord's past revelations—how the Mist Clan had originated from a group of lowly mine slaves who had stumbled upon a God Pillar's blood-infused ore.
A single sip of that blood had set off the rise of the Mist Clan, marking the beginning of their ascent.
And their starting point had been the Spirit Domain's second layer.
The connections were too perfect to be coincidental.
"If it's the Artifact Clan, then it makes sense," the Mist Lord muttered after a moment, his voice tinged with realization.
"Before the Mist Clan's rise, the Artifact Clan was the absolute ruler of the Spirit Domain's second layer. In fact, at their peak, they controlled not just one, but three entire layers—layers two, three, and four. The Artifact Clan was a dominant force that had once resided in the fourth layer, but later migrated to the second layer in pursuit of greater resources. After defeating the previous ruling species, they solidified their control over the entire region."
Feng Qi absorbed the information before asking another question.
"I've been wondering… do the layers within the Spirit Domain have a direct relationship with resource abundance? For example, does the first layer have more resources than the second, and the second more than the third?"
The Mist Lord shook his head.
"Not necessarily. The distribution of resources isn't dictated by layer numbers. The first layer of the Spirit Domain doesn't necessarily have more resources than the second. Likewise, deeper layers aren't necessarily poorer in resources either."
This explanation helped Feng Qi refine his understanding of the domain world.
The Dark Domain, Spirit Domain, Heaven Domain, Demon Domain—these realms were structured like a massive honeycomb, with each cell representing an individual world.
And within each of these worlds, different layers existed.
For example, the Spirit Domain was simply one cell in this massive honeycomb, and the Mist Clan had once inhabited the second layer of that world.
The sheer scale of the domain world was incomprehensibly vast—far beyond that of humanity's existing world.
This was why, in the future, when the domain world merged with the human world, the landmass would expand exponentially, transforming into a boundless and unfathomable new world.
That would mark the arrival of the ultimate battlefield.
When the domain barriers finally collapsed, all species would be thrown into direct competition, forced into a struggle for dominance.
To the powerful, this was nothing more than an exhilarating grand conquest.
To the rising factions, this was a golden opportunity to climb to new heights, hacking through obstacles to claim their place in the new world.
But for most species…
It was the beginning of the end.
Only a select few could endure the trials ahead. The grand war of myriad species would sweep across the world like a raging tide, erasing countless civilizations in its wake.
And humanity?
Once, they had considered themselves the rulers of all things, believing they stood at the top of the natural order.
That sense of superiority had stemmed from their environmental advantage—compared to plants, animals, and lesser creatures, humans held absolute dominance. They shaped their world, dictated its rules, and wielded unparalleled intelligence.
But the arrival of domain species shattered that illusion.
In terms of raw power, heritage, and knowledge, humanity paled in comparison to these ancient species that had thrived for countless eons.
Their supposed dominance had been nothing more than a comfortable lie, upheld only because they had never encountered a force greater than themselves.
Now, with the fusion of worlds approaching, humanity's status had plummeted.
From rulers, they had been reduced to one of many struggling factions, teetering on the edge of extinction.
And in the grand scheme of the future, humanity was nothing more than a speck of dust, a minor race among countless greater forces.
Many species found themselves in the same predicament.
The coming war was merciless—one that cared nothing for morality.
Survival was the only law.
Feng Qi had long since abandoned any naive notions of good and evil.
The Mist Lord had once spoken to him about this.
He said that humanity's perspective on morality—its distinction between good and evil—was hypocritical and full of double standards when viewed on a larger scale.
The Mist Clan raised blood food and kept slaves, but was humanity any different?
If one compared livestock bred for slaughter to weaker domain creatures, was humanity not also exploiting and enslaving other species? How was this behavior any different from the Mist Clan or other domain species raising blood food?
What humanity called righteousness was never about morality; it was about self-interest.
What benefited humanity was good; what threatened them was evil.
The very foundation of morality was flawed, as it could always be manipulated to serve selfish motives.
From the days of youthful idealism and passion to the clarity and resolve he held now, Feng Qi had undergone a painful journey of self-reflection.
At first, he had been lost, struggling to reconcile the truth with his beliefs. But as he dug deeper, he finally began to see through the illusion.
Domain species were not inherently evil.
They, too, had tales of hardship and perseverance, heroes who sacrificed themselves to pave the way for their people's future.
To fight for one's race—was that not the ultimate act of struggle?
To wield a blade against another species had nothing to do with morality—it was simply a battle for survival and continuation.
If there truly was an evil force in this world, then from his current understanding, there was only one.
The coming of the Great Momentum.
It loomed like an unfolding night sky, like a bottomless abyss that swallowed everything in its path. It placed every race under immense pressure, forcing them into endless conflict for limited resources.
If the Great Momentum had never descended, there would be no domain invasion.
This was the true origin of all evil, the invisible hand that had orchestrated the struggle of myriad races.
Even though it had yet to fully arrive, its influence had already dictated the course of fate for countless species.
No race had a choice when standing before this force.
To lie down and accept death? To live passively until the Great Momentum struck?
Perhaps some races would make that choice. But even if they resigned themselves to fate, the species around them wouldn't.
Those unwilling to accept their doomed future would choose resistance.
And the path of resistance was one paved in slaughter.
Before the Great Momentum could even wipe out the passive races, those who sought survival would devour them first, seizing their resources to fuel their own growth.
Though the Great Momentum had not yet descended, it had already forced every species into a path of destruction.
If you refused to walk that path, someone else would take it for you.
This was natural selection—only the victorious had the right to face the unknown future that awaited beyond the horizon of destiny.
Feng Qi exhaled deeply, snapping back to the present.
He picked up a mental soothing agent and took a large gulp before getting to his feet. He stepped into the center of the training ground, preparing for another round of training.
The strength of his Sacrificial Timeline was deeply connected to the Main Timeline, but the power he could borrow was limited.
For example, Blood Source Talent.
When the Sacrificial Timeline activated Blood Source, the effect depended on its tier, but another key factor was the bloodline strength of the Sacrificial Timeline itself.
If he did not upgrade the Blood Source Talent in the Main Timeline, then no matter how many domain creatures he slaughtered or how much blood energy he absorbed, it would have no impact on the Sacrificial Timeline.
Every time he entered the Sacrificial Timeline, he was just an ordinary human.
That was why training was so crucial—to enhance his physical fitness and blood energy levels within the Sacrificial Timeline. The stronger his foundation, the greater the effect when borrowing power from the Main Timeline.
Stripped to the waist, Feng Qi drenched himself in sweat, using the Demonic Blade's method of body refinement—the same technique it had used when training its new wielders.
This technique honed the body using blade energy, a method that, when combined with the Mist Lord's Blood Refinement Technique, yielded astonishing results.
Even after just starting, he could already feel his physique improving at a steady rate.
The challenges Star City would face in the future were far from over.
Strength was the only way he could protect what mattered.
Right now, his combat ability still couldn't compare to the top-tier domain factions like the Psionic Race, but he was far from weak.
Against a mid-tier domain species like the Night Shadow Clan, he could annihilate them with ease—crushing them like ants.
His role was no longer just that of a planner and strategist shaping Star City's future.
He had also become one of its top warriors.
The Dawn Army, the true resistance force, was still years away from forming.
Until then, his power was the only shield against any external threats.
For the next several days, Feng Qi trained relentlessly.
His strength grew steadily, his foundation solidifying with each passing moment.
Until finally, the day arrived—Star City's Graduation Ceremony.
It marked the moment Mu Qing would officially step onto the battlefield.
And it signified the beginning of a new era—
The dawn of "The Age of Dawn."