7. Entering the Microscopic Realm

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Huang Qiushan’s astonished eyes seemed to say, “You’re still alive?”

“Lin Fan is not dead!”

The guards looked incredulous; at this moment, they could no longer rejoice. If they hadn’t been blown up, they would soon be devoured.

However, Lin Fan claimed he had a way to survive, and a glimmer of hope stirred among them.

“Hundreds of Purple Spirit Kings—how do you expect to survive?” Huang Qiushan retorted bluntly, secretly thinking, “Like an indestructible cockroach? This guy’s really lucky; how could he not die?”

Indeed! How could one survive? Even the strongest hearts would genuinely tremble in the face of death.

Lin Fan cast a cold glance at Huang Qiushan, itching to use the Pure Yang Sword to send him on his way.

At a distance of five steps, if Lin Fan truly wished to kill him, Huang Qiushan would undoubtedly perish.

“Y-you… what… are you going to do?”

Huang Qiushan was greatly unnerved by Lin Fan’s gaze; his legs instinctively weakened. He clearly remembered when Lin Fan fought the Purple Spirit Kings alone—they combined were no match for him.

Suddenly, Huang Qiushan wondered: Could Lin Fan be intending to kill him?

Where was his gun? Long gone, lost somewhere.

Huang Qiushan didn’t want to die. “Brother Fan, I only wanted to save everyone just now. Killing the Purple Spirit Kings was the way to survive; I didn’t mean to target you.”

Forget it! Born of the same root, why torment each other so cruelly?

At a certain moment, Lin Fan’s killing intent flared, but he ultimately held back. “Human nature is inherently evil! Only by suppressing evil can one become a supreme being!” The teachings of Master Wu Xuzi echoed in his heart.

“God cannot save us! Only by becoming a god ourselves can we save ourselves!”

“Old Yang, give them the relics; we might still be saved!”

Lin Fan spoke gravely. He was no one to passively await death, nor was he a believer in divine intervention. Only by becoming a god himself could he rescue his own life. Even if the chance was one in ten thousand, he would seize it.

“Xiao Fan, those who accept fate are cowards! Even in the final second before death, never give up!” The dying words of Master Wu Xuzi resonated.

“Maybe...” A flicker of light appeared in Old Yang’s dim eyes. He hesitated greatly. The relics were of utmost importance. Was he really willing to give them up for a mere chance at survival? Had he not lived all this time to unravel the secrets of the relics? To throw them to these mutated beasts for a minuscule chance to live?

Was it worth it?

Would surviving have any meaning?

That would be tantamount to abandoning his own value and ideals.

Old Yang held a high position and had long accepted life and death. His lifelong pursuit was meaningful and valuable scientific research—something he could not let go.

“Old Yang, which is more important—your life or the relics?” Lin Fan saw through Yang Jinsong’s hesitation and asked.

“How can you be so selfish? We don’t want to die alongside your microscopic world!”

“Give them the relics!”

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The guards began to reproach Yang Jinsong, and some even tried to snatch the relics.

“Bastard, what are you doing?” Huang Dongshan kicked down the one trying to grab the relics.

“Even if we give them the relics, we won’t survive! Unless someone uses the relics to lure them away!”

Old Yang’s words diverted their attention. Silence fell. Who could guarantee survival if they gave the relics? And who would sacrifice themselves for the group?

No one spoke.

No one was willing. Human nature could not withstand such a test.

Amid the silence, Lin Fan took the relics. “I’ll do it. I have no family, no attachments! If you can live, my death will be worth it!”

“Brother Fan!”

Chen Cunyu’s voice cracked with emotion.

Everyone stared in shock at him; even Huang Qiushan fell silent.

No family, no attachments—is that a reason? Does having no ties mean one must die for others? It was just a reason to soothe their consciences, so they wouldn’t live with regrets or despair.

“Lin Fan, from today on, I am your family!”

“We all are!”

“Brother Fan…”

Voices choked with sorrow.

“Good! If you can survive, that’s best!”

Lin Fan said, clutching the relics with his battered left hand for the first and last time. The relics felt icy cold, like grasping a chunk of ice.

Seeing Lin Fan hold the relics, the mutated beasts’ green eyes gleamed darker, their sinister light chilling to the bone.

“Beasts, if you want the relics, come and chase me!”

Lin Fan shouted, swinging the relics and running in the opposite direction. As expected, the Heluo Fish and mutated monsters were drawn, charging toward Lin Fan.

The others watched the small figure, their emotions mixed; words failed them. Such greatness was beyond speech.

To sacrifice oneself—is it grandeur or folly? Without one sacrifice, how could the rest survive?

“Bang!”

The Heluo Fish’s tentacle vines lashed Lin Fan, sending him flying as if struck by a truck.

In a daze, he seemed to see the others breaking out of the encirclement.

At this moment, Lin Fan’s expression softened with relief.

“One life for dozens of others—worth it!”

Three seconds later, the mutated beasts pounced right before him!

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“Is this the end?!”

Lin Fan’s body was breaking apart, pain coursing through every fiber. That blow from the Heluo Fish seemed to signal the end of his life.

He could feel his body temperature plummet; consciousness blurred. His eyes seemed veiled by a white mist, vision fading.

Voices around grew faint—the rustle of beast packs.

He felt as if transported back to when he was seven, to the days on True Martial Mountain under Master Wu Xuzi’s tutelage—no confusion about the future, no hesitation, carefree, without burdens.

That was his happiest, most joyful time, so before death, he relived that vision.

What Lin Fan did not know was that the relics and the Pure Yang Sword had fused within his blood!

Suddenly—

“Whoosh!”

A tremendous light enveloped everyone, blanketing Changbai Mountain. The sky briefly turned to daylight, as if eternal, immortal radiance poured from the Pure Yang Sword. It resembled a pillar of divine light breaking through the heavens, reaching the realm of stars and moon.

“Divine light immortal descends to mortal land, sword and relic unite to transcend!”

“Through the ghostly realm’s blood sea, the mortal faces tribulation, unyielding to gods!”

A voice as loud and resonant as a great bell thundered across Changbai Mountain, near and far, lingering long!

“Is that a poem or something?”

The guards squinted against the divine light, unable to open their eyes. Yang Jinsong stood stunned, having heard those four lines from the relics—now, unexpectedly, Lin Fan had summoned them again.

Suddenly—

“Whoo~whee~”

A loud horn sounded, evoking the image of a lone ship sailing the sea, the wind flapping its sails.

A crack appeared in the sky, swallowing everyone!

“Ah!”

The world spun, as if souls were being pulled, like the intense weightlessness of falling off a cliff.

“Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!!!”

The crowd fell like dumplings, Old Yang and the guards once again saw the ancient nine-deck ghost ship.

Only this time, they were aboard the lone ship!!!!!!