Chapter 00086: The Creation of Non Aggression
# The Creation of Non-Aggression
Chapter 86
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 86: The Creation of Non-Aggression
Above the vast sky, the Heavenly Pillar was rebuilt only to crumble again and again, time and again.
In the towns on the earth, destruction and peace danced in a constant cycle, while figures on the streets flickered between wholeness and fragmentation.
Survival and destruction repeated endlessly, until finally, even time and the past themselves became achingly hollow.
Ji Jue walked through these remnants of history, glancing at the fragments of old times, unreachable dreams like the fleeting golden grain.
They seemed so close, yet utterly untouchable.
A lifetime of desires—now reduced to nothingness.
In comparison to the ruins once known, which was more cruel for Shuiyin?
His footsteps paused in the square, beneath the tolling of the church bell, and he didn’t wish to look any longer.
He sensed he might already know the true location of ‘non-aggression’.
The bell's sound boomed and echoed.
From the towering bell tower…
Ji Jue silently looked up, lost in thought, gazing at the face of the clock and the faded stained glass behind the hands.
The old workshop of Shuiyin.
Four hundred years ago, she stood there, day after day staring, waiting in solitude and softly singing.
What kind of scene had she hoped for?
Guests in formal attire, smiling as they arrived from all directions, flower petals scattered, white doves soared, and the joyful bride and groom joined hands, stepping to the chime of the bell, heading to the hall that witnessed their vows.
They hoped to begin a new life together.
Yet, in their innocence, they walked towards an inescapable death.
Once, and again.
As the ‘culprit’ of it all, when Shuiyin gazed upon such scenes, did it splinter her heart?
From this brief daze, he suddenly recalled the words from a giant in his memories.
In the old workshop, a weary man gazed at his most cherished companion and asked, “Do you regret it?”
But there would be no answer now; no one had the courage to voice that reply.
“Time is fleeting, Ji Jue,” the seer questioned, “What are you still waiting for?”
“I don’t know.”
Ji Jue shook his head, staring at the constantly crumbling and rebuilding world before him, his gaze falling on the steps of the church.
Countless flickering phantoms moved on, that lonely, tiny figure.
A mistake from countless cycles of time.
A girl sat on the steps, hugging her knees, staring blankly at the sky, still waiting for the person who could never return.
Silent tears fell.
“What are you doing here?” Ji Jue bent down to sit beside her, studying her profile, “Don’t roam too far; your grandma is waiting for you to come home.”
She didn't respond.
Only lowering her head, she raised her hand to wipe away her tears, for a long time.
“Mommy isn’t coming back, right?” the girl softly asked.
Ji Jue fell silent, instinctively looking up at the sky she was gazing at.
Four hundred years ago, four hundred years later, the skies of the Central Lands and the Northern region, the small town and cliff city, seemed hardly different—equally empty.
“I don’t know.”
Ji Jue sighed softly, answering plainly, “She must want to come back. Just like how you think of her, she always thinks of you. She’s been thinking, always thinking…but she can’t find the way home, lost in direction.”
“How do you know?”
The little girl glared at him, yet her tears couldn’t be restrained, her voice choked, “Maybe Mommy has forgotten me already…”
“I know, of course.”
Ji Jue replied assertively, “All good mothers are the same. I dream of her, dream of her every night. Because when she thinks of me, I think of her. When you cry, it makes her even sadder.”
He reached out, pointing to the girl’s cheek, as the tears passed through his fingertips, leaving a subtle ripple, untouchable.
Clearly within reach, yet utterly unattainable.
Until her tears gradually stopped, the girl earnestly raised her hand, wiping again and again, and finally, her red eyes looked at him, “Will I see her again?”
“I don’t know.”
Ji Jue slowly shook his head, and facing those eyes that mirrored his own, he couldn’t lie or deceive himself.
“Perhaps, you may never see her again.”
He turned the question back to her, “Will you still think of her?”
“Yeah.”
In silence, the dejected girl nodded, and Ji Jue smiled, “What a good child.”
He slowly stood up, hearing a voice behind him.
“And you?” The girl looked at him, “Will you think of her too?”
“Of course.”
Ji Jue nodded, answering without hesitation, “Just like you.”
In the blurred crowd, the little figure seemed to smile as well.
Just like that, she waved goodbye, gradually vanishing from sight.
Leaving Ji Jue standing in the empty square, finally turning back, against the sound of the bells, he walked towards the towering bell tower, pushing open the dusty door.
There were no obstacles, nor the difficulties he had expected.
Only a line of stairs winding upwards through the fallen dust, and a slightly ajar door.
It seemed everything still retained the look it had four hundred years ago.
All in the old workshop bathed quietly in sunlight, witnessing the cycle of destruction and rebuilding.
Yet in front of the window, that figure that seemed to stand there forever had already disappeared.
Shuiyin was no longer here.
Throughout the fractured world, whether above ground or below, past or present, amongst all the roles, the only thing missing was Shuiyin.
Yet at this moment, as Ji Jue once again stood in that position, what he saw was the same landscape once beheld by her.
Everything of rebirth and destruction, the crumbling and rebuilding church, the intertwining of existence and death.
Under the reflection of the collapsed Heavenly Pillar, everything was already predestined.
The world is a battlefield for the utmost good, and history is woven from the past.
The life and death of mortals mean little, and no one cares for the joys and sorrows of dust.
Everything will ultimately return to nothingness.
Perhaps this is fate.
If all this could be regained once more, even if only a little, no matter how insignificant compared to what was lost…
Ji Jue stretched his hand towards the world before him.
Just like the Shuiyin of old.
“If the past and present were to replay…”
Ji Jue solemnly asked, “Would you respond to the same wish, Non-Aggression?”
In that moment, a flash of light appeared on his wristwatch.
Like a silent call, after four hundred years, the power once left by the giants reemerged from the fractured world, reflecting its brilliance back towards the unreachable past.
Thus, the old days stirred, an unprecedented chaotic disturbance unfolded.
Just like the thunder from four hundred years past.
Resounding through everything!
Halting the ceaseless cycle of time!
The sky, the earth, the void—an endless spiritual circuit emerged, enveloping all, stretching across everything.
Like the intricate silk from a loom, they intertwined, outlining the contours of the mortal realm, unfolding all that exists.
Life, death, struggle, peace, order, chaos, stars, earth, mountains, oceans…
All-encompassing, spanning all phenomena.
But in that moment, Ji Jue’s perspective seemed to detach from himself, rising upwards, toward the sky, to a higher place beyond the firmament, as if transcending all phenomena and destiny.
Thus, from the end of the complex tapestry woven from countless threads, he finally saw the origin and end of everything— that invisible hand controlling all things!
And now, the invisible hand had gripped his arms.
Like a branding iron, it brought forth unprecedented agony and burning, causing Ji Jue to lose control and cry out.
In that instant, infinite transformations of the utmost good appeared before him, an unprecedented change in spiritual essence bursting forth from his soul.
It felt as if a low voice echoed in his ears, transforming into the thunder and laws of heaven that shake the world, deeply imprinting in his soul, no longer allowing any deviation or wavering.
Telling him:
“[The prosperity of all things is of this hand’s creation] [Everything in the world is formed from ten fingers] [Eradicate the roots of calamity, extinguish the seedlings of plunder and oppression, causing peace and stability in this world, with no more horrid struggles—] [—This is the creation of Non-Aggression!]”
Boom!!!
From what seemed like the thunderclap that opened up the sky and the earth, the old times trembled, unable to be maintained, endless spiritual circuits spread from the void, wrapping around Ji Jue’s body, soul, and arms, as if burning, like a brand, carving an unavoidably iron law into his bones and soul.
Causing Ji Jue’s eyes to blaze brightly!
When all strange phenomena dissipated into the air and the faraway dreams of olden times began to fade, Ji Jue finally awakened from endless pain and torment.
Staggering, he descended the bell tower.
So, smiling, he opened his arms towards the long-waiting companions, showcasing the intricate totem extending from his fingertips all the way to his elbows.
Like flames fluttering, like threads woven in every direction, encompassing all of creation.
“This is, [Matrix: Non-Aggression]!”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The continuous roaring echoed from afar, but it didn’t come merely from within dreams; it was more from beyond these ancient times.
Everything began to shake rapidly.
The center was changing.
That inexplicable shock and sense of weightlessness made Ji Jue feel as if the center was rising from underground, upward…
Then, in the next moment, they were blasted out of the spreading ancient times.
Returning to reality.
But that deep well they had ventured into had vanished, replaced instead by a massive hall swiftly crumbling, accompanied by intense dizziness and disorientation.
Ji Jue pressed his hand against the ground, using the same technique as before, feeling the mighty rhythm from the workshop.
Like a volcano erupting.
The furnace ran wild, the spiritual essence surged, merging into the workshop, causing the center to visibly expand and grow, even devouring the external fractures.
The center was rising!
The earth cracked, collapsed, countless buildings reduced to ruins, while the creations within fell deeply buried in the rubble…
Everything seemed to rapidly be destroyed in earth-shattering changes.
But this was not the end; it was merely the beginning of another cruel cycle…
“The reboot is about to begin,” the seer sighed.
Then, he heard a howling sound from afar.
A sharp crimson arrow swiftly halted in midair, grasped tightly in Xiao An’s hand, not yielding an inch.
The silent boy turned, the fierce light gleaming in his eyes.
At the end of the great hall, a lineup of dust-covered figures stood.
At the forefront, a face reflecting near-mad anger, fixing its gaze on the returning group, the pupils gradually turning crimson.
“Ji Jue—”
Lou Feng roared.