The First Continent. A sky torn like a wound and an earth shattered like broken porcelain still felt achingly familiar.

Ouyang stood with the sword that pierces causality, staring at the mountain-sized shell ahead. He’d come hiding it from Xi and Wuhen, a shadow slipping between stars.

Only Jiling and Bai were with him. Jiling had to be here. Bai was one with Ouyang; they rose and fell like twinned moons.

“You’ve come…”

The thunderous voice rolled like an avalanche. The ground shuddered as if a giant heart beat below.

Jiling pulled Ouyang behind her. In her eyes, this was her storm to face. He only needed to watch like a lantern in rain.

“Yeah. If you’re so eager to challenge me… then as you wish!” Her words rang out like bells. Broken laws knit like frost, and a Supreme Will draped this land like night.

The Ancient Turtle turned slowly, a mountain turning in a dream. It nodded, heavy as fate. “I knew you never sank into eternal sleep. Sadly, you’re not at your peak. Call the others.”

Jiling’s expression tangled like wind in reeds. Stubborn fire lit her eyes. “How would I know I can’t beat you if I don’t try?”

Chains of rules surfaced like iron vines. This fractured world was bound by countless links, a net of law strung across ruins.

To Ouyang, it looked like the realm behind the Gate of Truth, a clockwork cosmos stitched with runes.

Seeing Jiling refuse to yield, the Ancient Turtle brought down a colossal forefoot like a falling mountain. Clang! The sound of breaking chains tore the air.

Dense chains shattered in swathes, a steel forest felled in an instant. That strike erased the rules like chalk wiped from slate.

Ouyang raised his causality-piercing blade. One stroke met that mountain-sized palm, steel to stone, storm to tempest.

“Ling, now’s not the time to grandstand. This karma is ours to face together!” Ouyang roared, voice like thunder over waves.

“Our Other Shore began with you. Whether it’s me, Luo, or Xi and the others, we all carry that strand of karma.”

“Back then, your power bridged two starfields, and we were born like sparks leaping between worlds. From that moment, our karma twined with yours.”

“They’ve left, but they placed that karma on me like a mantle. So I’ll carry their will in that karma, and help you bear the storm.”

Jiling had always been a riddle wrapped in mist. On Earth, Ouyang thought she was just a bit too theatrical, a girl chasing constellations.

Even in the Starry Citadel, she was only a childhood friend in his memory, a breeze at the window. Doubt grew as he grew, like roots seeking water.

It matched what he’d suspected. Ouyang’s swift rise had a road paved by friends, stones set one by one. Part of him belonged to Chaos.

A True God’s soul. A vessel of Chaos. That’s why his legend blazed like a comet.

But Jiling? Ouyang knew his miracle couldn’t be copied. Bai’s queen, the Watcher of the Void, Luo and the others had all skewed fate.

A choir of coincidences sang his name. So why did Jiling climb just as fast, like ivy racing a tower?

He first doubted her in a pine-crowded city, resin scent thick as memory. In an inn, he met the dead returned, faces lit like candles.

Among them were Agas, his teacher, and Dongze, a blade in human form.

Agas was one thing. But Dongze was a Second Tier existence. Who could reach into that height and tug a soul back? Undying Return couldn’t do that.

Ouyang asked Dongze and Agas many times. They sealed their lips like locked doors. They wouldn’t name that shadow.

At first, the ability looked like Undying Return, so Ouyang suspected Jiling. In his world, only she could do that.

Later, he learned he’d guessed right by the star, wrong by the steps. It wasn’t Undying Return at all. It was the power to rewrite rules.

Back then, he didn’t know what kind of being could wield such ink. Not long ago, he understood. Only the one who writes the Supreme Law could carve like that.

With that thought, everything clicked like gears. The maze had a map.

He wasn’t the only one who doubted. The Ancient Turtle did too, though it didn’t know which face wore the crown.

In the First Epoch, when the first ancient species arrived like a storm tide, the Turtle listened. The Night King wanted to crush that continent for himself, to kill prophesied foes like snuffing lamps.

But the Turtle noticed the breath that came when two starfields touched, a scent like ink and thunder. It knew that power well. A creature that old recognized the Custodian’s weight.

From that moment, suspicion bloomed like night flowers. Had the Custodian escaped the last cosmic war, not fallen into eternal sleep, and fled to another starfield?

It was only a guess, at first. Later, the people of the Other Shore approached it like travelers at a fire, and it pried deeper truths from their stories.

But it didn’t go smoothly. They didn’t know why they’d come to this sky, like sailors blown off course.

Ouyang pulled Jiling close, bracing her like a tree against wind. Even he had been shocked when he learned the truth—the writer of law hid among them like a star behind clouds.

He learned late. Emperor Luo and the others had likely seen through it years ago. Because Jiling was here, they felt safe to leave and withdrew their army like a tide.

After all, the master of this starfield still lived. Staying meant little but friction. One starfield holds one Custodian. If this sky’s Custodian still breathed, they had no throne here.

They had to return home and seek another path, as rivers must find their sea. And with the master present, leaving an army to churn this land felt wrong, a blade grinding against bone.

Interests clash; one day blades would cross. So the people of the Other Shore pulled their armies back.

“Ayang, you’re right.” Xi’s voice drifted in like dawn wind. Wuhen stood beside her, quiet as snow. “Because of her, we became who we are. That karma must be repaid. We won’t let her fight alone.”

Ouyang wasn’t surprised they’d come. When Jiling and the Ancient Turtle moved, the power ripples flashed like lightning. Xi and Wuhen couldn’t miss them.

Jiling looked at Xi and Wuhen, her face a storm over a lake, beautiful and troubled.

Her bringing the Other Shore here was a mistake born from longing. She only wanted to return to her homeland. Yet she made Ouyang and the others stray, sails torn from their harbor.

In the First Epoch, the Dream Chaser sacrificed the Boundless Sea, severing everyone’s road home like cutting a bridge. Many blamed him, voices sharp as arrows.

Because of his act, they couldn’t return. He carried a curse for ages, heart dimmed, and disbanded Crimson Night Star like embers dying.

And Jiling—if she was the root of it all—how would others see her? The Dream Chaser fought the Night King so all could live, even if he burned the way back.

He was scolded by a thousand mouths. How would they judge Jiling? How heavy would their stones be?

Few knew the truth, but Jiling still didn’t dare face everyone, fear nesting like a swallow under her ribs.

“Don’t spiral,” Xi said softly, orange hair dancing like flame. She stepped forward, took Jiling’s hand, and pointed at Ouyang.

“See him? The karma he carries is everyone’s thanks to you. Cause brings fruit. Your unintentional act birthed eight epochs of the Other Shore, a history long as winter night.”

“It gave us lives bright and many-colored, a sky full of fireworks. And for that, we’re grateful.”