Xiaohunhun? What is that, and what "work" is it doing?
The Soul Gem suddenly lit up. A tiny vortex appeared upon it—small, but with boundless pull. All the seven-colored radiance in Lin Moyu's vision was sucked into the vortex, and the illusions scattered. The "Xiaohunhun" the Hongmeng Gem had called out was, sure enough, the Soul Gem itself. After swallowing the phantasm-gleam, the Soul Gem sent out a pulse of intent—as if saying it wasn't full yet.
The Hongmeng Gem laughed: "No rush. There'll be more in a bit."
Lin Moyu asked, "What was that just now?"
"The phantasm-gleam," said the Hongmeng Gem. "Similar to the kill-gleam, but meant to conjure illusions. It's formed from the myriad thoughts of the world and its beings at the instant before death. Over endless years those thoughts refined into something pure and powerful—an exquisite delicacy for Xiaohunhun."
Lin Moyu recalled how the Soul Gem had devoured souls before—more than once—then later seemed to lose interest. He'd assumed it had fully recovered and no longer needed outside souls. Now it looked more like it was just picky. After swallowing a strand of phantasm-gleam, the Soul Gem clearly shone brighter; it had benefitted.
The Hongmeng Gem seemed pleased. "Bring on a bit more so Xiaohunhun can eat its fill."
They kept following the Primordial Qi. Lin Moyu asked, "If the Soul Gem can eat phantasm-gleam, how do the other gems grow stronger?"
"Little Yuan—the Element Gem—eats elements," the Hongmeng Gem said. "Not common elements, but the very first wisp of element at a world's birth. Once we find the Primordial Core, we might spot some.
"Little Domain—the Domain Gem—has it easy: the Primordial Core itself is its best food.
"As for Little Balance—the Balance Gem—that's trickier. It needs to swallow a thread of life from a living world and a thread of death from a dead world—both together—to keep its balance."
"And you?" Lin Moyu asked.
"I don't need those things," the Hongmeng Gem said, voice still lofty—clearly looking down on such fare, though it wouldn't say what it did need.
Lin Moyu summarized: "So—the Primordial Core goes to the Domain Gem; the first wisp of element from this world goes to the Element Gem; we store this world's thread of life for the Balance Gem; and phantasm-gleams and the like go to the Soul Gem. Without its Primordial Core, this world will soon collapse completely and even its remains will vanish. Feels wasteful."
With a thought, Lin Moyu raised a flame in his palm—the World-Scorching Fire. Here, it still worked, just as he'd expected; its tier was not beneath that of the Primal Chaos Wastes. Even across worlds it remained usable—fire that even a Grand Venerable could not command.
"The world won't go to waste," said the Hongmeng Gem. "Your World-Scorching Fire can refine it. Among that flame's foods, 'world-remnant' ranks second."
"You know its origin?" Lin Moyu asked.
"Not very clearly," the Hongmeng Gem replied. "But I do know part of its data: it's called the World-Scorching Fire, very high-tier, and I know some of what it can do."
"If world-remnant is second, what's first?"
"A normal living world, of course. Best food there is—but none exist now. Can't eat what isn't there. Getting to refine a world-remnant already counts as excellent."
Thus, the last value of this world had been apportioned—everyone had a share; no need to fight.
Seven-colored light flashed again—phantasm-gleam returned. The instant illusions formed, the Soul Gem's vortex spun and swallowed them whole; the vision lasted less than a thousandth of a second. Lin Moyu still began dodging, because whether or not phantasm-gleam took effect, the kill-gleam arrived on cue. Against that annihilating force, all he could do was evade.
After another half day, a ruddy glow rose as firelight flickered; the surrounding dust turned crimson. Lin Moyu suddenly felt irritable, as if endless fury were welling up, itching to find someone to fight to the death—anyone. With no foe at hand, he even felt like dueling himself.
"Wrath-gleam," the Hongmeng Gem murmured. "A condensation of the world's and its beings' rage. Imagine the fury of uncounted souls dying—how strong that is. When such rage condenses, it becomes wrath-gleam, which can warp a cultivator's heart, turning them into a puppet who knows only battle."
The Soul Gem's vortex spun again. The wrath-gleam was sucked away on arrival; the red faded, Lin Moyu's mood calmed. The Soul Gem exuded a satisfied intent—delighted, and wanting more.
"Don't worry," the Hongmeng Gem chuckled. "There's more. Eat your fill."
As they neared the Primordial Core, dangers came one after another, ever more frequent. The kill-gleams were most common, and Lin Moyu avoided them all with razor-keen soul sense. Phantasm-gleam and wrath-gleam, once they appeared, were immediately eaten by the Soul Gem. Later came lament-gleam, which drags one into deep despair—but it too was a brief flicker. Lin Moyu felt sorrow for perhaps a ten-thousandth of a second. Anything soul-related, the Soul Gem could almost always devour. As for why it wouldn't eat kill-gleam—picky palate: too many impurities for its taste. Lin Moyu could only smile and accept that.
At last—after three days—the Primordial Qi's resonance peaked. They had found this world-remnant's Primordial Core.
It floated in midair; within a kilometer around it, no dust at all. Lin Moyu sensed the Primordial Qi—it matched eighty percent with his own, though not quite as pure. The core looked like an irregular sphere; water flowed, fire burned, wind blew—each tiny facet cycling a single element. Inside was a great deal of Primordial Qi, seemingly brimming with life. If not for knowing this was a world-remnant, one might think the world still lived.
"That thread of life is the first life of the world," said the Hongmeng Gem. "This was a living world; even destroyed, its life doesn't change. If it were a dead world, that life would have turned to death-qi after the world's end."
Lin Moyu frowned. "If a living world's life doesn't change—could it revive?"
"In theory, maybe," said the Hongmeng Gem. "In practice, no. No one's done it, and you shouldn't try. You've got your own world now—cultivating it well is plenty."
Lin Moyu smiled. Best not to chase fantasies. He approached. The Element Gem began, drawing in every wisp of element surrounding the Primordial Core. Then the Domain Gem took over, devouring the core itself. The Balance Gem worked alongside it, extracting that single strand of life as the Domain Gem refined the core; for now, it didn't consume it, handing it to Lin Moyu to store until they could pair it with a thread of death-qi.
Staring at the life in his hand, Lin Moyu's expression turned odd. The very first life of a world—vast and majestic, the foundation for all living evolution. Without it, life cannot arise. Yet it felt remarkably similar to his Undying Dao—the same essence of "life," only this strand was more immense.
"How can that be!" he muttered, puzzled.
Multicolored lights surged, painting the space in dazzling hues. Kill-gleam, wrath-gleam, phantasm-gleam, lament-gleam—every emotion-born danger descended together. Threatened, the entire world-remnant stirred; the gleams lashed down like a storm. In such a barrage, even dodging grew difficult.
"Don't disturb our meal," the Hongmeng Gem snapped, flicking its tiny hand. The Calamity Scepter erupted with terrible might, blocking the kill-gleams. All the accompanying phantasm- and wrath-gleams were swallowed by the Soul Gem, not a trace left.
Lin Moyu merely watched in silence. He knew the Hongmeng Gem was powerful; it moved only when it wished. When he'd been in danger, it couldn't be bothered—now that their "family" was eating, it acted. He could only be speechless—but let it be. The Hongmeng Gem knew its limits.
Cries echoed in his ears—countless voices reverberating. Though the Soul Gem devoured the resentment-gleams, some resentment still diffused; not just resentment, but grief, anger—every feeling burst forth. Lin Moyu heard the screams of unnumbered beings, felt their helplessness in their last moments. When a world collapses and all is shattered, even a Grand Venerable cannot escape; if Supremes perish, what chance has anyone else?
Why had the worlds fallen? What happened back then? Why did mighty worlds and peerless Supremes die one after another? A dreadful secret—unknown for endless years, just as no one in the Primal Chaos Wastes had ever entered the Wall of Heaven and Earth. Today, the Primal Chaos Wastes is the only living world, and he alone knows this secret.
Within the tsunami of emotion, his Dao-heart was a lone skiff cutting upstream, each wave a whetstone that honed it sharper and stronger. Lin Moyu's gaze grew steadier; his heart was rock, unmoved by externals.
He didn't know how long had passed when the Hongmeng Gem's voice sounded: "Master, your turn."
The Primordial Core had been eaten clean. This world-remnant was now an empty shell; in not many years it would wholly collapse into dust. The Soul, Element, and Domain Gems were sated—especially the Domain Gem, which now glowed with etched lines, runes Lin Moyu didn't recognize but knew would matter.
With a wave, he released the World-Scorching Fire. It spread swiftly, blanketing the realm. Had the Primordial Core still existed, the fire would have done nothing; now it could refine the remnant.
"Eat well," Lin Moyu murmured. On his cultivation path the World-Scorching Fire had contributed much, but hadn't often fed well. Perhaps, after refining this world-remnant, it would transform further, growing stronger. Alas, no intact living worlds remained to feed it. For it to reach the peak seemed difficult—unless someday it refined the entire Primal Chaos Wastes… but that thought could only flash and go. He was born of the Primal Chaos Wastes; even owning an independent world couldn't change that. If he burned the Primal Chaos Wastes, he'd die with it. Refining a complete living world was nearly impossible.
As the fire enshrouded the world, Lin Moyu sensed it molting—not just a feast but a metamorphosis. When it finished, it would be stronger, and so would he. His power kept climbing; only his realm stayed the same—still Chaos-realm, minor stage.
"When we get back, my realm should move," he murmured. He'd lingered long enough at minor stage.
"Realms aren't important," the Hongmeng Gem said. "Power is the root."
"True," Lin Moyu replied, "but some things do require realm."
"That's fair," it conceded. "Still, if you can boost power while your realm is low, all the better. Low realms are best for laying foundations—the firmer the base, the higher the ceiling. But it isn't easy to grow power at a low realm."
Suddenly, threads of fire drifted in from all directions, merging into his body, coursing through flesh, then sinking into his soul. Warmth suffused him; flesh and soul—already formidable—began to strengthen again.
"This is—" Lin Moyu was surprised. This had never happened. He glanced at the Hongmeng Gem, which only shrugged: Don't look at me; I have no idea.
Sensing closely, he found the fire-threads came from the World-Scorching Fire itself. As it refined the world, it returned a portion of the world's finest essence to him. This realm had once been mighty; even in ruin, it held much quintessence. Now part of that flowed to him—pure power to temper body and soul.
The fire's feedback continued. When it ended, Lin Moyu felt his strength had doubled—body and soul both. Before, he could swat a Chaos-realm great-achievement cultivator to death and suppress ordinary perfection-stage foes; now he felt he could one-punch a perfection-stage Chaos cultivator, and even clash head-on with top perfection experts. His flesh and soul had surpassed the Chaos realm.
He even had the illusion that, without using Dao-laws or arts, he could contend with a Grand Venerable—though that was only a thought. A Grand Venerable moves with Dao-law in every gesture; he'd be suppressed instantly. But if he dragged a Grand Venerable into another world, where Dao-law couldn't be used—could he kill one relying only on body and soul? It seemed… possible. If it came to life and death, he could pull a Grand Venerable into his storage-world, rewrite its Dao rules, and try to finish them.
He caught himself wandering too far and shook his head.
He didn't know how long the refinement took. At last the world-remnant was consumed, and a time-space passage surfaced before them.
"Inside, quickly," urged the Hongmeng Gem. "The world is about to turn to dust!"