Chapter 00211: Desperate Crossroads
# Desperate Crossroads
Chapter 211
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 211: Desperate Crossroads
Many things come without warning.
Just like chaos and collapse, just like disasters and death.
Even if there were many clues beforehand to be wary of, no one could have known how these scattered threads would intertwine and grow beneath the surface, or when they would sprout into an exaggerated disaster.
How much effect could repeated vigilance and scrutiny really have?
And when it finally breaks through the ground, when the flood overflows the dam, when the rain pours from the sky, and when the tsunami rages, aside from the limited preparations, all that remains is to react passively.
Just like now.
Ten minutes before the anomaly in Spring City.
A towering pillar of fire erupted from the wilderness outside the outpost, bursting into the sky.
The Association's construction site.
The piercing alarm abruptly stopped as the circuits were destroyed.
In the massive construction site, towering structures that reached toward the sky began to emit dazzling electric light.
Countless streams of spiritual essence scattered chaotically, and amidst the explosions and chaos, the dark night sky was dyed with a nauseating array of colors.
What followed was a spread of pollution more terrifying than anything within Spring City.
In the material storage warehouse, massive storage tanks that had been moved in at some point began to explode in a chain reaction.
The vast amounts of pollution and mutated dust collected by the recycling department rose into the sky with the storm, instantly turning the entire construction site into a demonic realm.
The pollution that countless craftsmen and apprentices had painstakingly extracted and separated over the past days was now being dumped back onto everyone in such a horrifying manner.
Anomalies sprouted like bamboo shoots after rain, emerging from the ground, the walls, the pipelines, and every inch of the air.
Illusory visions flickered incessantly, and one after another, wailing figures crawled out of the mud and blood.
Just a few seconds ago, everything had been proceeding normally, with everyone working diligently and urgently.
But in the blink of an eye, everything had changed beyond recognition.
On the flesh-like broken tower, strange eyes opened one by one, gazing down at everything below.
The once normal, albeit slightly complex, overall design now showed no resistance to the corruption.
It seemed as if it had always been destined to fall into this state.
With the rapid disassembly and reconnection of countless spiritual circuits, everything quickly became unrecognizable.
It was like adding a few strokes of ink to an ancient landscape painting, turning the once beautiful scenery into a hellish nightmare.
Once the disguise was stripped away, the malice hidden within the design from the very beginning was revealed, showing a sinister face that even its creators had never anticipated.
A hideous laughter echoed.
Wails filled the air, and screams and cries were endless.
Amidst the spreading smoke and pollution, the survivors struggled in disarray.
What’s going on? What the hell? What… happened?
After the initial shock and pollution, the apprentices and craftsmen who had miraculously survived the explosion struggled to call for help.
But the smart ones, after a moment of chaos, hid their presence, concealed themselves, and fled without looking back.
Rome wasn’t built in a day.
The worst of Rome had already been built, and facing the tragic scene before them, it was best not to think about turning the tide.
Survival was the priority.
Whether it was an inside job, a trap, or just a pawn in some grand scheme…
—The Association, the Security Bureau, they could no longer be trusted!
“Teacher, save me, save me… Teacher, teacher…”
From behind a door, cries came from within the sea of fire.
A master, covered in blood, struggled to pull himself up with a steel rod, staring at the horrific scene with an expressionless face.
He watched as his student burned in the flames, and as tentacles and mutated organs burst out from the student’s body.
For a moment, Zhou Chong opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
But amidst the smoke and fire, no sound came out.
He raised his mangled arm, his remaining finger pointing weakly at his student’s face.
The voice stopped abruptly.
The corpse in the flames no longer struggled, and just like that, turned to ashes.
In the swirling smoke, a tear mixed with blood rolled down his face, though it was hard to tell how much of it was sorrow…
He turned his head away, pushed himself up, and staggered out of the fire.
He opened his mouth, silently roaring, shouting, cursing, but his voice seemed to have been burned away by the flames, along with his white hair.
Finally, he stumbled out of the shattered temporary workshop, gasping for breath, and saw the figure standing in the center of the construction site.
She showed no signs of distress or injury, her short, mottled hair swaying slightly in the hot wind.
As if she had been waiting for a long time.
She glanced over.
“Hmm?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she examined him. “You actually survived?”
In that moment, Zhou Chong looked at her cold expression, then at the craftsmen and apprentices lying at her feet, either unconscious or on the brink of death.
His eyes turned bloodshot.
“Ye Xian!!!!”
Zhou Chong’s face twisted. “Have you gone mad? Even if you have a grudge against me, what about the others…”
Amidst his shouts and accusations, Ye Xian indifferently looked away, uninterested.
“I overestimated you.”
She sighed regretfully. “I thought you might be capable of a ‘gentleman’s transformation,’ but I underestimated the heroes of the world. It seems that with your courage and vision, you’re only fit to exploit apprentices in your little corner of the world. You don’t have the guts to stand against the Association and the Security Bureau… Forget it, just sleep for now!”
With a wave of her hand, shadows danced in the flames behind her, and a strange, wing-like shadow extended infinitely, instantly enveloping Master Zhou.
In the blink of an eye, spiritual essence clashed, invaded, defended, interfered, and corrected at a dizzying speed, and then it was over.
The sound of breaking echoed continuously.
The severely injured Master Zhou’s vision went dark, and he lost all ability to resist, collapsing to the ground.
The only thing he heard was a cold whisper:
“Stay down and don’t get in the way.”
The wing-like shadow transformed into a hand, picking him up and tossing him into the “pile of people.” Zhou Chong struggled to lift his head, glaring at Ye Xian’s back, but in the end, he couldn’t hold on and completely passed out.
Ye Xian looked up, gazing into the depths of the fire.
Amidst the twisted anomalies, a figure staggered out.
Her expression changed slightly, and after a long while, she murmured, “So that’s how it is. I really underestimated the people of this world.”
In the midst of the raging flames, Master Kong, covered in soot, froze as he saw Ye Xian walking toward him expressionlessly.
He shook his head firmly. “It wasn’t me!”
“I know.”
Ye Xian brushed past him, leaving behind a few words: “Take care of those burdens.”
With that, she walked straight toward what was behind Master Kong.
Beneath the flesh-like broken tower, amidst the dancing flames and smoke, a thin, hunched figure slowly emerged as Ye Xian approached.
He had been sitting there all along, motionless.
He had been watching everything unfold, coldly observing, appreciating the tragic disaster and drama playing out before his eyes.
Master Kong felt as if he had been struck by lightning, breaking out in a cold sweat.
He had just come from inside, but in the chaos and injuries, he hadn’t noticed anything.
What terrified him even more was the man’s face.
So old.
So familiar, yet now utterly unfamiliar, almost unbelievable.
The master sent by the Association, the one in charge of all alchemical work in Spring City, the one who proposed and controlled the entire construction process.
—Duan Mu!
Master Kong stiffened, instinctively glaring in anger, but soon, biting back his shame and fury, he turned and left, taking the survivors with him without hesitation.
Only Ye Xian walked forward step by step, staring at the old, wrinkled face that seemed perpetually filled with sorrow.
Her curiosity was piqued.
“Master Duan, are you unharmed?”
Duan Mu smiled indifferently and looked at her. “And you, Master Ye? I remember you were working in the deep well, the most dangerous place. When the corruption surged, I thought you’d die there.”
“Luckily, I’m a suspicious person. I don’t trust anyone, find everyone annoying, and always make my own little preparations. But Master Duan, you really surprised me this time.”
Ye Xian put her hands in her pockets, studying him seriously. “To suddenly do something so big, it’s hard to believe this is the same old, frail body you always talk about. Should I praise you for being an old horse still full of spirit? It’s really not easy.”
“Easy, actually, it’s quite easy.”
Duan Mu showed no pride or joy.
As the mastermind behind all this, he should have been gloating and mocking from a high position.
But now, facing Ye Xian’s words, his wrinkled, sorrowful face only grew older.
He sighed wearily.
“As long as you have a thick skin, you can keep fighting after every failure. As long as you can get up, you can be resilient… Such praise for the defeated is nothing but a poison sprinkled on wounds.”
Duan Mu looked up at the sky and couldn’t help but laugh. “For so many years, everyone has seen me as an example of late bloomers and resilience. But every day, I’ve wondered—why can’t someone else be the late bloomer, the resilient one? Why does it have to be me?”
Ye Xian remained silent.
In the eyes of the Taiyi Ring Association and all the craftsmen, Duan Mu was the embodiment of perseverance.
At thirty-one, he awakened on his own and joined the Embers, but he was already past the age of being an apprentice.
He wandered from workshop to workshop, facing repeated setbacks but never giving up.
At forty, after nine years, he obtained his craftsman’s license as a self-taught, middle-aged Ember.
In theory, he should have been praised to the skies, shocking everyone.
Unfortunately, that year, in the same examination hall, there was a fourteen-year-old boy with no background, no foundation, no elders, and no teacher.
With just a year of self-study using the Association’s basic manuals, he passed the exam.
His paper, filled with errors, proposed fourteen summaries and four principles that laid the foundation for a new field of modern alchemy.
By the time Duan Mu proved his abilities, broke through his limits, and climbed to the rank of master within the Association, that silent boy had already become an Ember Grandmaster, a sage of the present world—the [Plowmaker].
When Duan Mu, in his old age, raised his voice to revive the Fusion School, the future of the Fusion School was dismissed by the Grandmaster Tianlu with a single sentence.
After the Fusion School’s revival failed and declined for decades, Duan Mu made a comeback with a new theory, breaking the old and establishing the new.
But in that year’s master evaluation, he encountered a rebellious, renegade obstacle—a person named Ye Xian…
The theory and achievements he had painstakingly completed over a lifetime were rendered obsolete within five days of submission, surpassed by Ye Xian’s paper.
Even so, he never gave up, continuing his research until today.
Tragedies, torments, failures.
They filled Duan Mu’s life.
Any one of these would have been enough to break a person, but he overcame them all.
Now, he was a master revered by thousands, a model of late bloomers.
But no one knew how much Duan Mu hated the term “late bloomer.”
How much he hated himself.
And his meager talent, far from enough to reach the top, yet just enough to surpass the mediocre.
“That year, when I met you in the master evaluation, I knew that one day, you would reach heights I could never imagine. Even now, I still believe that.”
Duan Mu sighed. “I just hoped that in my remaining years, I could push forward a little more. Just a little further would be enough.”
Ye Xian asked, “If that’s the case, why change course now?”
“Probably because… I can’t go any further.”
Duan Mu’s face twitched, as if caught between crying and laughing. “Starting seven years ago, I realized that no matter how hard I worked, no matter how much I studied day and night, it was all useless. At best, I was just running in place.”
Stuck in place, unable to move forward.
In his futile struggle, he watched as those behind him surpassed him, as the goals he wanted to chase grew further away, as he grew increasingly senile, truly becoming an old relic.
When he called his student by the wrong name for the fourth time, he suddenly realized the vastness of the Embers.
And his own mediocrity…
“Tell me, why is this, Master Ye?”
Duan Mu looked at her, without anger or resentment, or perhaps he was just trying to maintain his composure, unwilling to let Ye Xian look down on him.
“The Embers were generous, leading me down this path. The Embers were cruel, leaving me lost and desperate. But why is my life so pitiful? Why was I even born?”
He raised his hand, touching his gradually peeling, aged face, and whispered, “What is the Embers’ gift, the furnace of the mortal world, trying to forge me into? Scrap in the furnace? Or dregs in the ashes?”
He looked at the craftsman before him and asked solemnly, “Is it delusional for a piece of scrap iron to want to become gold?”
“It’s only natural.”
Ye Xian nodded firmly. “To transcend mediocrity, to turn stone into gold, to shed the old form and appearance—even scrap iron can enter the realm of gold. Isn’t that what alchemy is for?”
“Yes, so I’ve come to terms with it.”
Duan Mu nodded gently.
His shattered face finally showed a smile. “If it’s a wrong path, then so be it. At least it’s a path. I still want to keep moving forward, as far as I can. Even one step is better than staying in place. To a genius like you, my shameless persistence must seem ridiculous, right?”
Ye Xian calmly countered, “Do you care?”
“…I’ve long since stopped caring.”
Duan Mu grinned, and behind his peeling face, a viscous darkness and ferocity emerged.
One after another, crimson eyes opened in the darkness.
In that moment, a cacophony of roars and wails echoed from the vibrating darkness, overlapping into a bizarre resonance:
“Master Ye, please tell me…”
He said, “Have I gone far enough this time?”
In the distance, a deafening roar shook the world.
The white mist stirred and dissipated, replaced by an endless blackness, like a tsunami, carrying a massive wave of mutated creatures and residual spirits, surging toward the outpost!
And right before Ye Xian, Duan Mu’s aged body began to crack and collapse layer by layer.
The corrupted form forged in the stagnant furnace slowly unfolded, the layers of darkness converging into a four-armed giant over three meters tall, with seven eyes on its face, some filled with compassion, others with cruelty.
Countless spiritual circuits intertwined and adorned its body, like gold and glass.
Amidst the hysterical laughter, a presence that transcended the original stones rose, overwhelming everything in its vicinity.
—A Celestial Being!!!
(End of Chapter)