Chapter 341: There Has Only Been One

Wang Xuan furrowed his brows, finding the lone page of scripture quite unorthodox, questioning the very fabric of existence and doubting the dimensions of time and space. This perspective, almost mad in its assertion, resembled less a scripture and more a cold, bizarre narrative.

"On bustling streets, amidst myriad lights, as you wander through the scenery of the crowd, are there truly others accompanying you? No, you're mistaken; in reality, it's only you. The vast city, the vibrant nightscape, they're merely figments of one's imagination."

"The true you might lie beneath frozen soil or sprawl in the cold expanse of the universe. All splendors of the world, every brilliance, are but dreams spun by you alone."

"Waking up, you might find the so-called bustling humanity, the brilliant fireworks, all dissipate like bubbles. Only you exist in the darkness. The universe and all its vivid past are but the musings of your mind. Upon awakening, the real you returns."

"In the deep silence of the night, as you quietly read alone, do the city outside your window, the cars on the road, the distant towns, truly exist? No, all is illusion; you lie under the cold earth, and it's merely your active thoughts that have painted this reality."

"There's only you, an illusion of one, where all things and scenes are extensions of your own thoughts, woven into a grand illusion. Awake now."

"Perhaps the frozen soil and the deep space of the universe don't exist either. You're simply lying in an indescribable void, cold and alone, with only your thoughts to construct the world. When the dream ends, everything collapses, revealing the truth..."

Lost in thought, Wang Xuan felt dazed. Was this truly scripture?

Transcending time and space, separated by countless years, where language and text could no longer be understood or passed down, only this kind of mental resonance remained.

If the contents of this paper were to be believed, the real world seemed terrifyingly bleak, with everything, including the self and the universe, being mere projections of one's mind. Was all existence just an elaborate illusion?

Wang Xuan was baffled. The scripture seemed almost demonic in its persuasion, taking solipsism to its extreme: aside from oneself, nothing else exists in the world.

"It's like the diary of someone mentally disturbed," he mused, troubled. Was this truly the last of the scriptures? To him, it seemed rather useless.

However, nestled within a beacon of civilization, this scripture, penned in ordinary materials, remained unscathed by the flames, hinting at its extraordinary essence. Thankfully, these were but a few cryptic lines, not the entirety.

Wang Xuan, casting the page into the fire, continued his empathic engagement, aligning his mental frequencies to capture its lingering thoughts once more.

"Do you believe now? Since time immemorial, there's been but one in the world, and that's you. I am you, recording this as I awaken, and you, extending your consciousness, encountering this sole testament to truth..."

Speechless, Wang Xuan found the continuation still resembling the ramblings of a madman, persisting in its brainwashing narrative.

"In truth, this is but a hypothesis. Whether you believe it or not, both stand correct. Reality is even more unpredictable and bizarre than what I've articulated. My words merely serve as a reminder, perhaps revealing that you're merely a patient, lying on your sickbed for most of your life. As your body ages and your spirit lingers at death's door, you conjure all existence..."

"Poisonous," declared Wang Xuan, before beckoning the little white tiger, "Come, let me unveil the real world to you, imparting an ultimate scripture that narrates the essence of all things..."

Without reservation, he then "enlightened" the little white tiger with this mental imprint.

Unexpectedly, the round-faced girl became stupefied, entrapped in its logic, murmuring, "It makes sense, the Tiger Sovereign is my true self, the primary consciousness. Wang Xuan is but the refuse of my mind, thus, he should be vanquished. Only I am real in all creation!"

At this, Wang Xuan was at a loss for words, choosing to ignore her.

He hastily sought out the spiritual imprint again, finally encountering the genuine scripture.

"What I've spoken of is merely a prelude, dependent on the laws of cause and effect, hinged on your true nature. The spirit is our sole blade to cleave through the fog and approach truth. Yet, the accumulation of real energy and the body's role as a shield for self-defense are indispensable. If there's only me in the world, then this should guide us in capturing the reality beyond me..."

What followed was indeed the actual scripture, yet it still premised on the hypothesis of a madman's diary, extrapolating from this foundation.

"To hell with it, to learn your method, must I first brainwash myself into a lunatic?!" Wang Xuan was nearly at his wit's end.

Of course, from the author's perspective, everything seemed natural; this was, after all, a letter written to himself, in the belief that he alone existed in the world.

In this scripture, it posits that the influence of reality is omnipresent, resonating with the self, yet the tangible matter of reality remains elusive.

Only through a spirit of purity, recognizing that from ancient times only the self exists, and cultivating the Spiritual Eye, can one capture the splendid reality materials at the dark end of infinity, accumulating them for personal use.

"I don't even need to purify myself further, already possessing the Spiritual Eye. According to this, am I innately a severe mental case?" Wang Xuan mused with a scoff, finding the author's intentions perplexing. It felt as if there was an underlying intent to trouble future generations without leaving any traces.

The temptation alone of cultivating the Spiritual Eye, as suggested by the scripture, would be enough to lead some practitioners into risking their sanity. However, the subsequent teachings indeed contained valuable insights, requiring him to adopt a critical approach and extract the essence while discarding the notions that could lead him to become a "severe patient."

"In the cold universe, the solitary 'I' encounters various illusions, like the birth and demise, like the sudden disintegration of a luminous star, all in the illusion releasing specks of real materials, worthy of cherishing and extracting..."

Wang Xuan painstakingly translated the ramblings of a severely ill mind into chapters applicable to himself, extracting the essence and discarding the spiritual malady. Whether it's the lifespan of a living being or the energy released by radiant stars, in this scripture, they're considered "external sensations," mere illusions stimulating one's perception. From these illusions, he would extract specks of real materials interacting with the only true self, thereby strengthening himself for a closer approach to the realm of reality in the future.

As Wang Xuan delved deeper, analyzing rapidly, he felt increasingly agitated. Everything being an external sensation, all interacting with the inner self, he suspected the scripture was leading him astray.

"External sensations, inner self, ah..." He couldn't help but exclaim, contemplating handing the scripture over to Old Zhang to torment him into madness.

𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

He hesitated to share it with figures like the Demon Sovereign, Hades Blood, or Zheng Yuantian. If they experienced issues with their primordial spirits, so be it. But what if they managed to cultivate it successfully?

Wang Xuan pondered, if given to Elder Zhang, the worst outcome might be a temporary split in consciousness, which could gradually heal over time. If successfully mastered, it wouldn't pose a significant threat.

After extensive practice, Wang Xuan realized that without fully immersing himself and tormenting his psyche, he couldn't grasp the scripture's essence.

Moreover, he needed to believe that the world was as such, and his perceptions were correct.

After a lengthy contemplation and self-hypnosis, he surprisingly found it effective.

"Wrong, this unconventional method, and such a patient, might not indicate a soul ailment. I suspect he's intentionally challenging future generations, testing them to self-correct and uncover the scripture's true nature."

Glancing back at the little white tiger, who had been thoroughly 'enlightened' and was now mumbling to herself with a vacant gaze, immersed in her own world.

"If it's only me, then I should sever all causal connections, starting with my mental refuse. Eliminate him," the round-faced girl declared, attempting to push Wang Xuan into the fire.

With a swift tap on her forehead, Wang Xuan snapped her out of it and turned away, visibly annoyed.

"This scripture is intriguing; give me the latter part, I want to delve into it!" the round-faced girl exclaimed excitedly after coming to her senses.

"Find somewhere cool to sober up," Wang Xuan dismissed her, pushing her aside.

Ultimately, by the fire, he managed to interpret the scripture from his perspective, discarding notions of external stimuli and internal self. In his cultivation system, this translated to... all things being a superposition of reality, seeking and absorbing those rare yet genuinely existing peculiar substances. Perhaps this deviated from the original teachings, but it was the only way he could practice to suit his path.

"Different individuals have varied interpretations. Later, I'll exchange it with Elder Zhang for some heavenly medicine. If he remains unharmed after practicing, we might consider sharing it more broadly, letting Immortal Fang review it, and even the Sword Immortal for her insights."

After all, this was the only page not consumed by flames, indicating its unique worth.

Wang Xuan secluded himself, absorbing the ash's strange substances while practicing this scripture, sifting through all creation, opening his spiritual eye to probe the essence of the world. Indeed, in the void, strands of peculiar matter flowed, mysterious in origin, seemingly born from the overlay with all things. However, the quantity was too sparse, relying on this for accumulation would take ages. Then, he noticed an entity, vibrant with life, containing substances close to reality and far richer than those in the void.

It was... the little white tiger.

"Does this mean practitioners absorb various energy substances, some of which are close to real oddities, needing refinement and extraction?" Wang Xuan mused, closing his eyes to meditate in the void.

Upon reopening his eyes, the fire had dimmed, nearing total extinction. Suddenly, his body quivered, resonating spiritually and physically, a blinding beam erupted, purifying his being. Inside out, the peculiar substances flowed, cleansing the marrow, revitalizing the organs, with a faint white glow enveloping his form and spirit.

Unbeknownst to him, he had made a breakthrough, solidly stepping into the seventh realm, his cultivation enhanced by substances nearing reality, primarily sourced from the fire's embers.

"What happened?" Wang Xuan exclaimed, noticing corpses hanging from the ancient structures around him, swaying in the wind.

These were not ancients but the descendants of immortals and demons who had entered this place with him.

"The white tiger whispered, "It's been half a month; you've finally awakened. Those who tried to approach the fire all mysteriously ended up hanged."

Shocked, Wang Xuan asked, "Is this domain sealed, trapping us inside?"

According to the plan, this alien realm was to open for three days initially to assess the situation before deciding on future openings.

"After the scheduled time, it closed for ten days. It reopened for two days, and this time it will be open for a month," the white tiger informed him.

"Not venturing into the void, I managed a breakthrough in the outer world, leveraging a scripture, all originating from 'external stimuli.' Yet, without the abundant peculiar substances from the fire, success would be hard, requiring years for accumulation," Wang Xuan pondered.

He stood up, surveying the ancient plaza and the quiet streets. Among the hanged, many were faces he recognized, like a certain haughty immortal woman with her tongue sticking out, armored and revealing a pale slender waist, who had been insolent at the entrance, now dead.

Six or seven powerful beings who had shown hostility towards him, intending to block and hunt him at the entrance—men, women, demons, and descendants of immortals—all ended hanged.

"The remnant spark of a civilization is not something anyone can approach lightly. Those who perished here did not die unjustly," Wang Xuan remarked solemnly.

The round-faced girl nodded in agreement. "They deserved their fate. Some attempted to ambush us and ended up sealing their own doom. Serves them right!"

"Let's move on," Wang Xuan decided, feeling it was time to depart from this grim location.

"What about that scripture?" the white tiger inquired, still fixated on the intriguing document.

Wang Xuan, half-jokingly, threatened, "I fear it might corrupt your spiritual essence. And where's my memory crystal? Without it, I won't take you with me."

Caught off guard and contemplating whether to betray her allegiance to the demon sovereign, the white tiger felt a twinge of guilt, though she knew the punishment wouldn't be severe, perhaps just a harsh scolding.

"I don't have it on me right now, but I'll find it for you once we're out!" she quickly retorted.

"In that case, stay here. I'm leaving," Wang Xuan said, vanishing from the plaza in an instant.

"Come back, I'll give it to you!" the white tiger exclaimed in panic, fearing she might become one of the many newly deceased hanging around them.

Wang Xuan reappeared on the street, frowning as he encountered a few individuals outside.

The first person he noticed was Mo Si, with his delicate features and seemingly frail stature, yet undeniably powerful and ruthless. Likely one of the strongest contenders here.

In another direction, Qi Chengdao, clad in spotless white, stood with the ethereally beautiful Ming Xi, resembling a celestial couple. He offered Wang Xuan a slight nod of acknowledgment—a formidable figure in his own right.

Further away, a daunting figure loomed, a young man whose calm appearance belied the madness lurking in his eyes. He was Qi Liandao, the second son of the demon sovereign, who greeted Wang Xuan with a smile, thanking him for bringing the family's ancestral weapon, the God-Slaying Banner, to this realm.

"Thank you for bringing our ancestral artifact, the God-Slaying Banner, here. It's truly fated," he said, bowing slightly in a polite and composed manner, contrary to what one might expect.

Wang Xuan's heart skipped a beat, sensing trouble. Notably, the God-Slaying Banner on him vibrated faintly, reacting to something nearby—what could possibly have piqued its interest?