Winterfell.
Dead Convict Domain Field.
A thunderous explosion erupted within the crimson-hued domain field, its deafening sound so immense that it pierced through the domain barrier itself, shaking the seemingly impenetrable protective walls. Cracks, like spiderwebs, swiftly spread across the surface of the barrier, forming a dense network of fractures.
Boom!
Another shockwave followed, sending tremors rippling outward. The entire domain field could no longer withstand the force from within—collapsing in an instant.
Amid the swirling dust and rubble, a glowing, blood-colored figure slowly emerged, its crimson eyes flashing within the chaotic storm of debris.
The figure swung its right arm, and instantly, the surrounding dust and sand surged toward its form, coalescing into a powerful vortex before being launched into the sky by the force of its motion.
In that moment—clarity returned to the battlefield.
Standing amidst the cleared air, Mu Qing appeared, clad in a tight-fitting combat uniform, her eyes gleaming with a cold, predatory light. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, locking onto a figure in the distance.
This figure had a humanoid form, yet the most striking difference between it and a human was its piercing green vertical pupils.
Thud!
Without warning, the figure collapsed to its knees, its entire body shattering into pieces. Even in its final moments, disbelief remained frozen in its lifeless gaze.
Not far from where it had fallen, an emerald-colored longsword, previously in its grip, let out a faint hum, trembling upon impact with the ground.
Clang!
The sword, seemingly unwilling to fall without its master, suddenly shot up from the ground, launching itself straight toward Mu Qing's face.
Yet, before the blade could close the distance, Mu Qing simply raised her hand and caught it midair.
She stared down at the trembling sword, her expression indifferent. Without hesitation, she brought it to her mouth and bit down.
Crunch!
A sharp, crisp sound echoed—the emerald blade snapped clean in half.
As if she were chewing on a piece of ice, Mu Qing casually ground the fractured metal between her teeth before swallowing it.
With that settled, her cold gaze shifted once more, focusing on the scattered remains of the domain being.
This was the closest she had ever come to the truth.
But in the end, it still wasn't enough.
She had found no definitive proof that Winterfell City had been infiltrated by domain forces.
For years, Mu Qing's primary mission at the Winterfell had been the elimination of domain fields.
But ever since accidentally discovering the presence of domain creatures within Winterfell City, she had relentlessly pursued the mystery.
Where one disguised domain creature could exist in plain sight, there had to be more.
And so, she had spent decades investigating.
She had gathered more and more clues, all leading to one undeniable truth—something was deeply wrong within Winterfell City.
Yet, as merely the commander of the Dawn Domain Battle Squads, she held no authority over Winterfell City's internal affairs.
She couldn't simply order the city's defense forces to conduct a full-scale sweep.
And doing so would only alert the hidden enemy.
Thus, her only option was to continue investigating from the shadows.
But now, things had become clearer than ever before.
She realized that she was caught in a web, being deliberately manipulated—her every move guided by an unseen force lurking in the darkness.
And the domain being she just killed was proof of it.
Just days prior, she had received a formal notice from the Winterfell City Domain Battle Squads Council.
The message stated that the Dead Convict Domain Field, dormant for centuries, had begun expanding at an alarming rate—it needed to be eradicated immediately.
She had taken the mission without hesitation.
With the main forces of the Dawn Domain Battle Squads occupied elsewhere, and the other vice-commanders delayed, Mu Qing had chosen to go alone.
But before destroying the domain field, she noticed something strange.
The domain wasn't expanding—at all.
Everything about the situation contradicted the initial mission report.
And it made her wonder—was she being used?
To confirm her suspicions, she reported back that the mission was complete and even submitted coordinates of key resource caches within the domain field.
Then, she hid herself in the shadows and waited.
After a few days, a lone figure arrived, soaring in on a flying sword.
Once inside the domain field, the figure moved directly to the coordinates she had reported, swiftly collecting all the valuable resources into a private storage space.
Her original plan had been to capture the domain being alive.
But when faced with her assault, the being refused to surrender, choosing instead to unleash a desperate, life-burning sword strike.
Realizing that a live capture was impossible, she responded with three full-powered punches.
The first shattered the soaring sword energy.
The second obliterated the already fragile domain field.
And the third… ended the target's life.
Though she failed to capture it, she now had confirmation.
Someone within the upper ranks of Winterfell City's Domain Battle Squads Council had been compromised.
Otherwise, how could they have used her own intelligence to precisely locate the most valuable resources within the domain?
Clearly, there was a hidden force manipulating her power for their own benefit.
But what troubled her most was this—
The first domain creature she had exposed…
And the sword-wielding figure she just killed…
Were not of the same species.
Back then, she had brought the corpse back to the Domain Battle Squads' base for dissection and research, memorizing all relevant data and findings.
Now, she could confirm without a doubt that this sword-wielding figure was fundamentally different from the previously slain domain creature.
Could it be that Winterfell City was harboring not just one but two separate domain infiltration forces?
A thought surfaced in Mu Qing's mind.
As she recalled the various events that had occurred in Winterfell City over the past decades, her brows furrowed slightly, her gaze flickering with uncertainty.
The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became.
If her hypothesis was correct, then it would perfectly explain why, time and time again, she had received contradictory mission notifications.
This pattern had become particularly prominent over the past ten years.
The notifications from the Domain Battle Squads Council and those from Winterfell City's Supreme Council always differed significantly, often even outright conflicting.
She still had no definitive answer to what the truth behind this was.
After a long silence, Mu Qing turned into a streak of crimson light, streaking across the sky toward Winter Supply Zone.
Her next objective—to investigate the Domain Battle Squads Council and uncover the real forces operating behind the scenes.
Long after Mu Qing had left, another sword-bearing figure descended onto the same battlefield.
Her gaze swept across the bloodstains on the ground before shifting toward the broken emerald sword that lay in two shattered halves.
After a brief moment of shock, her figure shot into the sky, heading straight for Winterfell City.
Crimson Research Institute.
Inside a blue-tinged medical pod, Feng Qi lay submerged in cold regenerative fluid, his entire body encased in the liquid's chilling embrace.
With each labored breath, the fluid entered his nose and mouth, washing out dark impurities from within his weakened body.
Today, once again, his body had reached the brink of life and death.
The medical pod could only slow down the inevitable deterioration of his body—it could not stop the decline completely.
His body was like a ship riddled with holes, and the treatment process was akin to bailing out water, delaying the sinking, but unable to change the inevitable course.
But Feng Qi refused to give up.
He forced himself to breathe deeply, doing his best to cooperate with the machine's purification process, flushing out impurities from his system.
He was so close to victory.
He wouldn't let himself fall now.
Over the years, he had experimented with countless methods to extend his lifespan, but most had failed—the few that worked had minimal effects.
At one point, Wei Wei had suggested putting him into cryogenic stasis, waiting for a better opportunity to revive him in the future.
But the proposal was immediately rejected by the newly established "Mental Power Division" within Crimson Research Institute.
The new division head, Chen Yaohui, was the first outstanding graduate of Dawn Academy's Mental Science program.
He was also one of the pioneers in Star City's mental research field.
To date, he had contributed 132 key research papers to Star City's Cultivation Studies Database, laying the foundation for modern human mental studies.
As one of the first-ever graduates of the field, he was immediately recruited into Crimson Research Institute's newly formed Mental Power Division, where he rapidly rose through the ranks and became its leader.
Now, he was one of the key figures being cultivated for Crimson's future leadership.
Chen Yaohui argued that cryogenic stasis could preserve Feng Qi's physical body, but his spiritual injuries would continue to deteriorate unchecked.
Remaining in a conscious state was the only way to slow down the worsening of his mental condition.
If he entered deep sleep, there was a high chance he would never wake up again.
To prove his point, Chen Yaohui presented extensive research data supporting his theory.
He even personally conducted an experiment, testing mental degradation under cryogenic stasis.
The results showed that even in a frozen state, the subject's spiritual deterioration continued uninterrupted.
Faced with irrefutable evidence, Feng Qi decisively abandoned the idea of cryogenic preservation.
He had come too far to fall asleep and never wake up again.
With cryogenic suspension ruled out, he began searching for other ways to extend his lifespan.
At one point, he had considered sending others to make contact with Mu Yan, hoping to uncover the truth through a proxy.
But given the current intelligence reports, Winterfell City's political environment was extremely complicated.
It seemed that two major factions were secretly competing for control over the city's highest authority.
This could be seen clearly in the resource allocation discrepancies between Star City and Winterfell City.
Two conflicting orders—one directing supplies from Star City's Western Supply Zone to Winterfell City's Western Airport, and another sending them to Winterfell City's Eastern Airport.
Winterfell City was internally divided, yet neither side had openly declared hostilities.
As for why they hadn't escalated into full-scale conflict, the answer was obvious.
It most likely had something to do with Mu Qing.
If they went to all-out war, both factions would suffer the wrath of Mu Qing's iron fists.
Mu Qing wouldn't care who had infiltrated Winterfell City first—she'd crush them all the same.
But as long as they maintained a façade of cooperation, they could continue leeching off the resources generated by the Dawn Domain Battle Squads.
Their only real disagreement was how to split the spoils.
And so, the struggle remained in the shadows.
Exposing the truth would benefit no one.
As for the true strength of these two factions, that remained an unanswered question.
The existing intelligence provided some clues that could be used to gauge the strength of these factions.
One thing was certain—most of the domain forces that had descended upon the eastern region of the human world came from the Spirit Realm sub-world of the domain world.
For example, the Mist Clan, certain minor factions from the Weak Tribe Alliance, the Psionic Race, and the Night Shadow Clan, among others.
But there were exceptions—the Silver Moon Clan, for instance, originated from the second layer of the Black Abyss sub-world.
Overall, it could be determined that the Spirit Realm sub-world forces were the primary invaders of the human eastern region.
This provided a starting point for analyzing the domain infiltration forces within Winterfell City—there was a high probability that they originated from Spirit Realm sub-world factions.
His thoughts returned to the present.
If he sent someone else to contact Mu Yan, there was no guarantee they would obtain the real truth.
The information stored in the database could very well be fabricated. Although the probability was low, any false intelligence could jeopardize his planned timeline.
The effort of countless sacrifice lines might all be wasted.
The only way to ensure the accuracy of the intelligence was to personally make contact and read memories directly.
So far, he had not yet encountered any ability that could alter memories.
Wei Wei only possessed the ability to edit memories, not modify them completely.
Whether a memory was his own, he could clearly distinguish in his Nightmare State.
Memory reading was the best method to prevent false intelligence from leading him astray.
This was one of the main reasons why he endured despite his deteriorating condition—he had to meet Mu Yan with his own eyes.
During this time, he also considered a potential hidden risk.
His body had decayed to an extreme level—would this also affect his brain?
If his brain became compromised, it would undoubtedly hinder his ability to retrieve memories.
In previous timelines, he had always died before his body had reached this level of severe degradation.
Back then, his brain was still full of vitality, and with the help of vitality-enhancing agents, he had even managed to preserve his consciousness up to the year 3528.
But in this sacrifice line, his body's deterioration might have already affected his brain.
To address this concern, he had consulted Wei Wei.
She had already prepared for this issue.
She assured him that it would not affect the storage of his brain.
His bodily degradation was primarily caused by excessive physical overloading, originating from the heart and spreading throughout his entire body.
In fact, if his body was removed as a burden, the brain would actually be easier to preserve.
Wei Wei also mentioned that once he died, she would thoroughly clean and prepare his brain.
At that point, his brain would become nothing more than a living memory container, devoid of consciousness or sensory perception.
The technology for preserving brains had been refined over multiple timelines and was now highly advanced.
As long as there were no external interferences, keeping his brain active would be relatively easy.
Hearing Wei Wei's explanation, Feng Qi finally felt relieved.
If brain preservation failed, then all his efforts up until now would have been meaningless.
At that moment, the sound of the medical equipment shutting down pulled Feng Qi back from his thoughts.
The black-tinged impurity-filled liquid drained away through the floor grates, and the transparent glass lid above him slowly lifted open.
Feng Qi sat up.
The treatment had clearly restored some of his strength.
But the process could not halt his body's inevitable decline—it merely provided a temporary cleanse. Soon, his body would once again sink into exhaustion and drowsiness.
He had thought about staying inside the medical pod permanently, but excessive treatment would also damage his body, so he had to moderate its usage.
"Old man, how do you feel?"
Turning his head, Feng Qi saw Wei Wei leaning against the machine, smiling at him.
A helpless expression crossed his face.
So many years had passed, yet Wei Wei still looked the same as when she was young—completely unchanged.
Meanwhile, he was already one step away from the coffin.
"Hang on a few more years. Once you see that old woman, make her extend your lifespan. My long life is all thanks to her."
Feng Qi nodded.
The machine continued to open, and he was gently moved out.
With Gu Sha's support, he was helped into a wheelchair.
Before leaving, he turned his head toward Wei Wei and softly said:
"Wei-jie, thank you."
For this woman who had stood behind him all these years, Feng Qi had always been deeply grateful.
If it weren't for Wei Wei and the Crimson Research Institute silently supporting him, it would have been nearly impossible for him to make it this far with just his own efforts.
Saving the world was never a one-man effort.
Every companion had contributed to the cause.
Among them, Wei Wei had been one of his most crucial supporters, pushing him forward across countless timelines.
Hearing his gratitude, Wei Wei simply waved it off casually.
"No need to be so polite. Serving Qi-ge is the highest honor and aspiration of every Dawn Warrior."
"Hahaha!"
"What's so funny? When that old woman extends your lifespan, you better treat me to some spicy lobster!"
"Deal!"