At the Edge of One World

In a remote land far away from any society or borders there was a solitary mountain wrapped in mists. This mountain was very tall. The peak was high above the clouds.

When someone on the peak looked down, they would not see the ground nor the fogs, but the endless sea of clouds below. It was a very picturesque scene.

A man stood at the highest peak of this lone mountain. His black hair reached his shoulder and danced gently in the wind. He wore a plain black robe.

To his side was a stone table and on top of it was a board of weiqi. There were no pieces on the board.

The continued to stand motionless. The sun above in the vast blue sea of the heavens began to slowly move.

Eventually the sun set and the sky turned dark. The innumerable stars in the heavens and the moon gave off their brilliance amidst the night. The peak was not dark at all, for it was illuminated by lights from myriad sources from above.

The only difference now was that the man was seated on a chair next to the table.

The man's expression had not changed at all during all of this time. It was a relaxed, yet firm expression. Whoever saw him would feel that he would still have that same expression a decade from now, even a century from now.

The man was constant and still. When he was immobile he was filled with strength, but if he were to move, then his movements would be filled with grace and elegance. This was not something that he had strove for. It was a naturalness that came to him naturally.

The man turned his sight toward the empty weiqi board. He stretched out his left hand and traced a short line on his left palm with a finger from his right hand. A droplet of boiling black blood dropped onto the center of the board. The blood expanded outward as more drops of blood dropped down. Steam rose up from the wooden board. The blood quickly covered the entire board and it began to melt the board down.

The man retracted his hand and turned his sight to the west. Whether it was north, south, east, or west, the sight was all similar: there was only an endless sea of cloud illuminated with soft lights and the endless light and darkness of the heaven above.

There was a reason the man looked to the west, and not the east, north, or south. He was expecting someone. He was also not expecting anyone.

"This world and its myriad beings are close to death. Life is natural, and so is death, yet I do not want to die right now. I can still keep on going, I must keep on going. My fate is not to share theirs."

The man had not spoken so many words in recent memory.

A piercing howl of a beast sounded from the east. A lone eagle appeared as a tiny dot in the distance. But then more dots appeared. There were all sorts of flying beasts: birds, condors, dragons and phoenixes. An army of beasts came from the west. These weren't normal spirit beasts either, but very powerful beasts with sentience and sapience. They were as strong as the top experts of a faction and their intelligence were on par with the wisest men. On top of them were many cultivators as well.

The man had extended his invitation to one person, yet many had come. Although the man did not care about such matters, he could recognize many notable experts and top-figures of the Immortal Empire within the group. Still, who or however many came, it did not matter.

The host of men and beast stopped mid-air a short distance from the peak of the mountain. One young woman flew out from the group and landed on the peak. Another young man followed after her. They both walked toward the man on the peak.

The man watched as the young woman approached. He could not find the girl in his memory in her at all. Was it time that had changed her? Experience? She was more mature in both figure and manner. She had become much more beautiful, but none of these things was noticed by the man.

He had not even thought of why she had brought all of these people along, he was only looking at her, trying to find that girl in her that he could see in his memories.

He could not. A wise sage once said that one couldn't redo the past. But that wasn't what the man was trying to do. He only sought to find the person he was familiar with, because if he couldn't, then the person in front of him was nothing more than a stranger. And what did two strangers have to say to one another? Nothing.

"I didn't write anything about coming alone in the letter," the man said.

"You didn't."

"So they don't want to die. Is this your intention?"

The woman did not reply.

Half of the weiqi board's height had been corroded by the man's blood. Steam continued to rise incessantly as the blood continued to burn through the wood softly and silently.

The man stared deep into the woman's eyes. People can die when they are still alive. He could not see anything familiar in this woman at all.

It still did not matter.

The man closed his eyes. The sound of the soft wind disappeared. The cold night's air that wrapped around him also disappeared. He was now in another time, another place.

It was spring in a small courtyard. The flowers bloomed and the tress were splendid. A young man and woman sat shoulder-to-shoulder under the shade of a large tree.

This was all that the man could see. Everything else was vague, indistinct. The land, the sky, and things beyond this tree and the couple was blurry.

The man opened his eyes. He was now back on top of the mountain peak. Two strangers stood in front of him.

Only a single moment had passed. The weiqi board did not have any large changes. The man did not need to waste words with these two strangers.

"Your letter mentioned that you have a way of surviving the impending crisis, why not share it with us?" the young man next to the young woman said. One of his hand held the young woman's.

"That's right, young man, you should share it with us," a cheerful voice from within the floating army of flying spirit animals said with a laugh.

A beam of light shot from the group and landed in front of the young man and woman. An elderly fat man in fine blue silken robe appeared from the light.

"One should clean up after their own mess," the man said. The man had lost interest in this group from the Immortal Empire.

"What is this about a way to survive the crisis? You wouldn't mind sharing it with us either, right?" a loud voice reverberated through the night's sky.

To the north, a fair distance from the mountain, space distorted. A moment later a dozens of gigantic metal warships appeared. Although the color of the metal could not be discern under the pale light of the moon, countless streaks of golden light glowed on the rune patterns engraved onto the hull of the ship. There were many generals and soldiers on the deck of the these massive ships.

This was an armada of the Gods. The Gods had come.

Whether it was the Gods or the Immortals, they were inconsequential to the man. A God would not be afraid of any crisis or doom, neither would a real Immortal. They took their names in vain.

"The few caused the inevitable death of trillions upon trillions of lives, yet these few would ask me how to survive it?" The man shook his head in disapproval. "Words of wisdom cannot be heard by the foolish. And if not because of foolishness, then how could you people cause such a crisis befall the world?"

The weiqi board had had been completely corroded. Only the stone table remained. There were no traces of the black blood on it at all.

"So you won't tell us then?" the fat elderly man asked. "If so, we can only resort to force."

"Do as you wish," the man replied.

This universe was doomed. Of that there was no doubt. The man had to continue. It was not that he feared death and desired life, it was only that he just had to continue. This was not the time for his end.

He would begin this journey alone.

The man walked to the edge of the peak. Below him was the endless sea of clouds. Below that was a world destined to die and beyond it was a world destined for life, a great life, for it would be a world that he would be born in.

A a black sword appeared in the man's hand. No, it was not a black sword. The man unsheathed the blade, and it gleamed red like blood under the moonlight. The sword was red, and the sheathe black.

The man dropped the sheathe to the ground. He held the sword toward him with both hands. The tip of the sword was aimed at his heart. He brought the sword into him. The man felt a sharp pain, and then everything began to fade and lose form. The pain turned into numbness.

"If you are not alive, then I will give you life!" Shura said as blood seeped down from his mouth. He moved backward and let himself fall.

Everything here was no longer his concern. He was going now, to the place he was meant for.