Legend of the chosen ones: Beyond Destiny

But you can't, the more involved you are with ether and people, the more you become trapped, unable to see far ahead.

This is not to keep you on the sidelines, but you need to understand where to begin, to find the most convenient point..."

Tong Yuan once again reached out, his palm filled with wrinkles and age spots gently squeezing as if grasping a fine, fleeting spider silk.

From the tangled chaos, he found a crucial thread.

And then...

A sudden yank!

In that instant, a sharp sound like a baby's cry echoed.

Auditory illusion!

But immediately after, there came a series of piercing shrieks, like the loud chirping of cicadas, rising and falling, from the distant mountain forest!

The buzzing sound persisted.

Insects!

A mass of spiritual insects screamed, flapping their wings, rising to the sky!

Under the malicious tug and push of ether, using just a glimpse caught from the fleeting phantasm, they disguised as the source, issuing instructions.

In an instant, all along the coast of the Federation, countless hidden spiritual moths fell into chaos, breaking all processes of infection and spread, flapping their wings and rising.

Among the piercing shrieks, they congregated, thousands upon thousands, like a rampant flood, mindlessly flying around!

As if someone had suddenly kicked and overturned a hidden hornet's nest.

Swarms of insects went berserk!

Massive moths whistled past, nearly dimming the sky.

Covering the heavens and blocking out the sun.

Tong Ting's expression was grave, had it really developed to such a terrifying scale!

"Alright."

The elderly man on the recliner lazily waved his hand, yawning: "After poking the hornet's nest, it's not our business anymore, the chance to shine is left to the young ones."

"The young ones?" Tong Ting was puzzled.

But when he raised his head, he saw the iron curtain clouds floating from the horizon, in a hurried glimpse, he seemed to perceive something.

Startled for a moment, he sighed self-deprecatingly.

"After all, it is ember..."

A stuffy afternoon, no cool breeze.

A distant rumble echoed.

It's raining!

.

.

At this moment, in Xinquan.

Thunder roared, the sky and earth went dark!

In the raging wind, countless mercury vapor converged into a cloud of iron curtain, enveloping everything.

The dazzling silver light and refracted fragmentary rainbow from the blazing sun overlapped, at the edge of the vast shadow cast on the earth, it was as if there was a hem of radiant colors.

Iron curtain covered like a canopy, reaching across the sky, covering the world.

The disturbed silver light danced in the sky, enchanting and cold, so menacing.

"It's truly beautiful."

In the open workshop, Ji Jue felt the gusts of wind coming at him, raised his head to gaze, and couldn't help but smile: "How does it feel, Isis?"

Isis remained silent, saying nothing.

On the sky, within the silver clouds, indistinct faces appeared and disappeared, seemingly glancing towards the earth, looking at their creator, controller, and binder, as if some expression changed.

Then again, maybe not.

At the moment, above the swirling clouds, infinite mercury danced, layer upon layer unfolded, blooming like lotus flowers. Even compared to the final form in the simulation of Tower of Wanxiang, it was far too narrow and small, not even one thousandth…

Just a vessel-like container.

Yet simultaneously, there were no more shackles.

Returned to freedom.

When torrents of silver rain poured down from the firmament, the fine rain curtain enveloped everything, and amidst the boundless silver light, Ji Jue seemed to see the figure in front of him.

Fleeting and distant.

Staring at himself.

The wild wind blowing in became gentle, akin to an embrace.

Then, that figure turned and walked into the deeper part of the storm, disappearing from sight.

Infinite silver rain descended from the sky, nourishing the new springs, covering the streets with countless bewildered faces, and innumerable silver threads spread out from the rain.

The Hand of Isis, unleash!

Pedestrians on the street, employees busy at work indoors, workers sweating on the assembly line, passengers in buses either weary or hopeful.

Thousands of threads stretched, sweeping across, separating upon contact.

Some people were oblivious, others felt a slight chill at the back of their necks, while some awoke from a dream with a violent cough, drenched in sweat, looking around confusedly, not knowing where they were. And others were completely immersed in their dreams, unresponsive.

If one were to observe with Spiritual Vision, one could see countless flashes arising intermittently within the area covered by the storm.

It was the reverse application of Fluid Alchemy, using matter to control spirit, a craft developed to deal with all spiritual changes.

—Solid Alchemy!

At this moment, infinite mercury descended from the sky and then rose back to the heavens, returning to that enchanting cloud layer, carrying countless tiny 'grains'.

Like a mountain torrent sweeping across the land, washing away buildings and cities, when the silver storm passed, all mutated spiritual remnants of the spiritual contamination were sealed within grains smaller than Dust, and taken back to the firmament.

Simultaneously, it perceived all living creatures, locked onto all targets, and ultimately sealed all abnormalities.

The mutated spiritual content on the oblivious carriers was plucked from them by the thousand threads of the Hand of Isis, and the recently attached spiritual contaminants on their souls were forcibly cut away; any loss of spiritual substance could be replenished with a good sleep.

As for those already incurably lost and unconscious empty shells, their internal sediment had no chance to develop into moths before being thoroughly extinguished, completely eradicated, extracted!

As the clouds above slowly moved, wild winds and storms spread out, sweeping inch by inch across the wilderness of Hai Province like an Invisible plow.

It made no attempt to hide its presence, nor did it disguise this inconceivable power.

It didn't even seek anyone's consent or approval.

—The ruthless purification has begun!

"Such a pity that the name Hand of Isis is already taken."

Ji Jue stroked his chin, sincerely lamenting: "But, since it can act as a vessel and container for your free movement, maybe we should call it the 'Jia of Isis' as a counterpart..."

Before he finished speaking, he felt a cold gaze from the clouds, along with a chilling coldness and anger descending amidst thunder and lightning.

Soon, a sweet voice as if smiling rang out: "Sir, if you don't want your mouth, I can help you tear it off."

Why is it that whenever I want to start respecting you, you have to speak!

"Alright, alright..."

Ji Jue sighed helplessly, abandoning his brilliant idea: "Since it's suspended above the firmament, let's call it the Crown of Isis, how about that?"

In the historical records that remained in the world, among the descriptions of the goddess, her headpiece evolved from the sun's totem to the style of a throne.

If one were to translate the hieroglyphs related to it into Federation language, it could be called 'throne'.

It signifies the deity descending into the mortal realm, reigning over and ruling all.

This is divine authority bestowed from the heavens!

"This name seems rather fitting for you."

Isis remained silent.

In the quiet wind, it seemed as if distant echoes, like a soft sigh or a faint smile, were hard to discern.

Only the silver clouds silently changed, a pair of vague eyes faintly lowered, tamely placing the crown of the firmament upon its own head.

Then, boundless iron light surged anew, the clouds unfolded again, carrying a metallic storm that swept everything, stepping towards the distant wilderness.

Across grass-covered mountains, overflowing rivers, arid lands, foul swamps...

Even though the Spirit of Workshop had seen the same scenery countless times through surveillance and cameras, when truly witnessing such desolate and crumbling landscapes, it couldn't suppress its revulsion and even disgust.

Unable to comprehend why anyone would care for such vistas.

Nor could it fathom why such things were regarded as treasures.

The only thing birthed from the mire was the endless swarm of moths rising before her. Shameless insects swarmed, proudly buzzing in front of her, increasingly displeasing her!

Thus, Isis lifted her hand once more.

—In his courtyard, pests are not needed!