Chapter 667 - 67: Symmetry, Tunnel One, Miracle

Chapter 667: Chapter 67: Symmetry, Tunnel One, Miracle

What did this mean?

It meant that when Murphy regenerated, he would lose some of his own matter.

Of course, he could absorb more matter to replenish himself.

But the most dangerous loss was the matter that constituted his "self."

Murphy didn’t yet fully understand the composition of this "matter."

Once it was lost, he could no longer regenerate perfectly.

Of course, this usually wouldn’t be a major issue. Ordinary people, with their limited memories, are constantly losing the matter of their "self" as they grow and change.

The "self" of each day is in a state of constant renewal.

Therefore, for long-lived beings, losing a bit of the matter that made up their "self" was usually trivial. This was especially true since they had backups and could perform network-assisted recoveries.

Even if their bodies were shattered, they could recover by re-aggregating the vast majority of matter still connected by Spiritual Power.

But things were different on the Kronos plane. If he lost matter constituting his "self" here—judging by the rate of loss from his arm—he would lose a great deal.

For example, if his brain were shattered and then reassembled, he would inevitably suffer a loss of "self."

For a long-lived being, dying too many times would lead to a complete and final death due to this "self-loss."

This was the nature of the Law on the Kronos plane.

Murphy picked up his hand and pressed it back onto the stump of his arm.

Crimson light seeped from both ends of the break, twining together.

Flesh and blood fused, bones reconnected, and skin healed over.

His right arm returned to its original state.

He wiggled his fingers.

It felt no different from before.

He had come here to save Cheris.

Although it was the system’s second option and should have a low risk, it would only be completable if he gave it his all.

But the words "give it his all" didn’t mean there wouldn’t be a price to pay.

In his original world, he could go all out without a care, even if his body was shattered.

But that wasn’t an option on the Kronos plane.

Here, every injury meant losing matter that constituted his "self." If he lost too much, he would no longer be the same person, even if his body recovered.

’I can’t let my guard down,’ Murphy told himself.

He took a deep breath.

The air of the Kronos plane filled his lungs. It was cool and carried the scent of earth and grass. It lacked the chaotic, mind-numbing interference of the Nightmare World, and it didn’t have the omnipresent, oppressive feeling of being watched that defined the Old Realm.

’The Spiritual Qi is decent enough.’

The Dimensional Energy on this plane seemed to lean more toward the plane’s inherent properties, which meant it strengthened the body and suppressed the mind.

But it wasn’t chaotic like in the Nightmare World, nor was it as thin as in the Old Realm. More importantly, it wasn’t monitored by a Magic Net like in the New Realm.

Therefore, it didn’t really affect Murphy’s ability to absorb it.

He could easily break it down using Breathing and Guiding ’Entering the Hall’.

Because of this, Murphy decided to increase his strength first before going to rescue Cheris.

His 120% Dao Transformation Level made him stronger than any Second-Level Wizard.

But he was still a far cry from a Third-Level Wizard.

A Third-Level Wizard could unleash attacks of at least 24 degrees.

That was far beyond what Murphy’s current 20.8 degrees could match.

This was especially true for the battlefield involving Cheris, which was at the level of Fourth-Level Wizards.

Of course, since the system had given him the option, it meant the task was achievable.

Conversely, option one—remaining in the Imperial capital at the Society of Truth’s headquarters—was the truly dangerous choice.

He didn’t need to think hard to know that the danger likely stemmed from the Douglas Clan. Leonardo’s death was by no means the end of the matter.

Although Cheris was the one who killed him, Murphy wasn’t Cheris, and Cheris wasn’t here.

And he couldn’t assume that others would necessarily be wary of Cheris.

Death Warriors, curses, convenient "accidents"—the methods were many and varied.

This kind of conflict might have no bottom line.

Otherwise, the system wouldn’t have presented option one.

Even though Murphy was eager to obtain the Ten Thousand Laws General Outline and see if it contained Magic exclusive to Cultivators, he knew his own limits.

However, there was one other matter to consider while using the Profound Origin Nine Refinements Spirit Forging Chapter to refine his Mind Furnace.

And that was—

Murphy looked again at the nearby village. It was silent, shrouded in darkness, and eerily quiet.

But Murphy knew it wasn’t as simple as it looked.

When he was traversing the spatial tunnel, in addition to the attacks from the Nightmare World itself, he had also encountered an obstacle right as he was about to enter the spatial rift.

This had prevented him from entering the Kronos plane right away.

The resistance had been incredibly strong.

So strong that Murphy hadn’t been able to break through for some time.

He had to wait for some time to pass before circling back to sneak in.

And the person who had stopped him was surely nearby—most likely in that village.

He had a rough idea of the situation from a conversation he’d overheard between Rodrick, Sebastian, and Leonard from a parallel world: the Society of Truth was trying to develop the Kronos plane.

The people from the Shaping Domain wanted this plane and its bloodline materials, so they had used some method to enhance the strength of the Kronos plane’s natives.

As a result, the Society of Truth’s efforts had been thwarted here.

Cheris had become trapped.

It was very possible that a full-scale war had already broken out.

After opening the spatial tunnel, Murphy had temporarily sealed the aura leaking from its opening, but that was only a temporary measure.

To avoid being disturbed while he was in Cultivation, he decided it was best to strike first.

...

「In the Holy Hall.」

Moonlight spilled down from the open-air ceiling of the hall, casting a faint, silvery-white layer upon the stone platform.

The surface of the water in the stone bowl reflected that small patch of sky, like a mirror.

Mira lay on a bed in the corner of the hall, but she couldn’t fall asleep.

She turned over to face the wall.

A clump of moss grew in a crack in the stone wall, spreading across its surface.

Her fingers unconsciously brushed against the moss. Her fingertips felt cool and carried a faint, earthy smell.

She closed her eyes.

Then opened them again.

She turned over again.

Sera was sleeping right beside her.

The little girl was lying on her side, her hands clasped together beneath her cheek like a cat curled up asleep.

Mira watched her younger sister for a long while.

Then she reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair from Sera’s face behind her ear.

Her fingertips brushed against Sera’s skin. It was warm and soft.

At the touch, Sera wrinkled her nose in her sleep before it smoothed out again.

The corners of Mira’s mouth curved into a small smile.

She pulled the blanket up a little higher on Sera, covering her exposed shoulder.

After doing this, she lay flat on her back again, staring at the patch of open sky above.

The moon had shifted, sliding from the center of the ceiling to a position further east.

A few faint stars had appeared.

Her anxiety surged up again.

’Am I worried about Leander?’

He had said that if he could come back alive once, he could do it a second time.

’Do I believe him?’

She didn’t know.

She only knew about the war from ten years ago—no, it wasn’t a war. It was a slaughter.

She had been thirteen at the time.

That... thing had descended.

It had long, flaxen hair and a pair of eyes like cold green gems, devoid of any emotion.

She looked no older than thirteen or fourteen, but the moment Mira saw her, she knew.

That wasn’t a child. It was a monster from another world wearing a child’s skin.

Her power was unimaginable. With a casual wave of her hand, she could split the earth, shatter mountains, and make rivers flow backward.

Mira remembered running. She ran so fast that one of her sandals fell off. Her bare foot stepped on sharp gravel, getting cut again and again, but she didn’t dare stop. The ground behind her was collapsing piece by piece, as if someone had pulled out the entire world’s foundation.

So, so many people died. So much blood was shed.

As she ran, she glanced back—and saw the flaxen-haired being looking down at her, as if at an ant. Then, it raised a hand, aiming a fingertip at her back.

That finger never landed.

Someone had blocked it at the last moment.

Mira didn’t know who it was at the time.

Now, she understood. It had been the last Demigod of this world.

A scorching light collided with the flaxen-haired being.

The aftershock threw her through the air, and she landed in a patch of thorns, covered in blood.

She lay in the thorns for a long time, so long that night fell and gave way to dawn, and dawn faded back into night. In the end, a hunter from the village found her in the valley and carried her back.

Her back was full of thorns. It took an entire afternoon to pull them out, one by one.

Mira shook her head as if to drive the images from her mind.

’We won’t lose every time. We won’t.’

Ten years ago, there was only one Demigod. Now, there are four.

Four of them.

’If they work together, they can surely stop those invaders. They can surely protect this land.’

She told herself this.

Just then, something flashed in the corner of her eye.

It was crimson.