Death did not come loudly.
There were no thunderclaps. No dramatic last cries.
Only the quiet sound of something breaking inside him.
Su Yanluo lay on the shattered battlefield, blood soaking into the cracked earth beneath him. The sky above was dark red, stained by burning clouds and collapsing spiritual formations. Around him were ruins—ruins of sects, ruins of pride, ruins of his own ambition.
He had aimed too high.
He had challenged beings far beyond his realm.
And he had lost.
His meridians were destroyed. His cultivation base was crushed. The Dao he had painstakingly cultivated had scattered like sand in the wind. Even breathing felt like dragging broken glass into his lungs.
Footsteps echoed in the distance.
He could not move.
He could not fight.
He could only stare at the sky and feel the warmth of his blood leaving him.
"So this… is the end."
Strangely, there was no screaming in his heart. No panic. Only regret.
Regret that he had not grown stronger faster.
Regret that he had trusted too easily.
Regret that he had not understood the deeper laws of the world.
His vision dimmed.
The sounds of battle faded.
And then—
Silence.
---
But the silence did not last.
Instead of nothingness, Su Yanluo felt… movement.
Not physical movement.
Something lighter.
Something freer.
When he became aware again, he was no longer in pain.
He was floating.
His body was gone. The battlefield was gone.
He was suspended in darkness—but it was not empty darkness. It was deep. Vast. Like standing beneath an endless ocean at night.
He looked down—or at least, he tried to. He had no body.
He was only awareness.
A soul.
"Where am I…?"
His voice did not echo. It rippled.
And then the darkness shifted.
Before him, the blackness parted like curtains drawn aside. What replaced it was water.
Endless water.
But it was not ordinary water. It glowed faintly blue and silver, like liquid starlight. Currents moved slowly, carrying tiny fragments of light—memories, emotions, fragments of countless lives.
He was floating above an infinite sea.
"This is the Primordial Sea of Rebirth."
The voice did not come from above or below. It came from everywhere.
The sea parted.
From its depths rose a figure.
She was not overwhelming in appearance, nor dressed in blazing armor. Instead, her presence felt ancient and gentle. Her long hair flowed like moving water. Her robes shimmered with shifting patterns of waves and stars. Her eyes held depth—true depth—the kind that made one feel seen entirely.
Su Yanluo understood instinctively.
She was not a mere cultivator.
She was something older.
"I am Thalryssia," she said softly, "Goddess of the Primordial Sea of Rebirth."
Her voice was calm. Steady. Like waves touching the shore.
"You have died, Su Yanluo."
There was no cruelty in her tone. Only truth.
He absorbed her words.
"I failed," he replied quietly.
"Yes."
The answer was immediate.
"But failure is not always the end."
The sea around them shimmered. Images surfaced within it—his life, his struggles, his battles, his stubborn refusal to kneel even when facing certain death.
"You were not meant to end there," she continued. "Your thread of fate was cut prematurely."
"My thread…?" he asked.
"The world you lived in," she explained gently, "is only one layer of existence. There are higher realms. Deeper laws. You glimpsed them—but you were not prepared."
The words did not sting.
They felt accurate.
"You have potential," she said. "But potential alone is not enough. You need time. And a vessel worthy of your soul."
The sea began to glow brighter.
"You stand now at the Sea of Rebirth. Most souls are cleansed here and sent into ordinary cycles. But you…" Her eyes focused on him fully. "You may choose."
"Choose what?"
"To be reborn consciously."
His awareness trembled.
"To remember?" he asked carefully.
"Yes."
The weight of that possibility pressed down on him.
To return.
To try again.
To not repeat the same mistakes.
But also—to face the same dangers.
"And where would I be reborn?"
"In a world adjacent to your former one," she said. "A cultivation world on the verge of change. Its borders are fragile. Its balance unstable. It is recruiting new cultivators even now."
Recruiting.
The word felt oddly grounded. Tangible.
"You would awaken in a mortal city," she continued. "One month before sect recruitment begins. Enough time to prepare. Enough time to observe."
"Why help me?" he asked.
The sea grew still.
"Because the Nine Heavens are shifting," she answered. "And more than one hundred Ancient Gods stir in silence. Something is coming. And you… may become either salvation or catastrophe."
He absorbed this quietly.
Then he asked the only question that mattered.
"If I return… will I be stronger?"
Her lips curved slightly.
"You will be given an Infinite Vessel body. One capable of walking every cultivation path. Sword. Spear. Formation. Devouring. All Daos will be open to you."
His soul trembled.
"But," she added calmly, "your growth will still require effort. You will not be handed strength. You will earn it."
That was acceptable.
"I accept," he said.
The moment the words left him, the sea responded.
The water rose, not violently but powerfully. It surrounded his soul, warm and immense. He felt himself dissolving—not into nothingness—but into possibility.
"Remember," Thalryssia whispered as the light intensified, "the border between worlds is dangerous. I will guide you across once. After that, you must walk alone."
The sea swallowed him.
---
Pain returned.
But this time it was the pain of breathing.
Of lungs filling.
Of a heartbeat restarting.
Su Yanluo's eyes snapped open.
A wooden ceiling greeted him.
Sunlight streamed through a small window.
He inhaled sharply and sat up.
He had a body.
Slender hands trembled in front of him. Smooth skin. Long fingers. He touched his face—familiar, yet more refined. His features were elegant. Softer. Almost ethereal.
But inside—
Inside, something vast rested.
He could feel it immediately.
His meridians were wider.
His spiritual core space was deeper.
His body felt like an empty ocean waiting to be filled.
"Infinite Vessel…" he murmured.
Memories remained intact. His past life was not gone.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood. The small house creaked softly under his movement. It was modest—wooden walls, a clay water pot, a simple table.
He walked to the window and looked outside.
A city.
Bustling.
Vendors shouting. Children running. Spiritual energy faint but present in the air.
Not the battlefield.
Not the ruined world.
Another place.
Another chance.
As he stepped outside, fragments of local memory surfaced in his mind. This body belonged to a young man of the city's outer district. An orphan. Quiet. Unremarkable.
But that would change.
Two men passed by, speaking excitedly.
"Did you hear? The Azure Blue Sea Sect begins recruitment next month!"
"Really? That soon?"
"Yes! They're testing talent in the main square!"
Su Yanluo stopped walking.
One month.
Exactly as she had said.
His gaze lifted toward the distant mountains beyond the city walls. Even from here, he could feel it—a faint pressure. The cultivation world beyond the mortal boundary.
The border.
Thin.
Waiting.
And somewhere deep within his consciousness, like a whisper carried by waves—
"You have crossed safely," Thalryssia's voice echoed faintly. "Prepare yourself."
He closed his eyes briefly.
He was alive.
Reborn.
Standing at the beginning once more.
But this time—
He understood the cost of weakness.
He opened his eyes.
The world felt wider.
The air felt richer.
And deep inside his Infinite Vessel body, the first faint thread of Dao stirred like something waking from ancient sleep.
"One month," he said quietly.
Then he began walking toward the city center.
His new life had begun.