Chapter 67: The Intellect That Makes the Starry Sky Tremble (Part 2)

Cold, warm, dark, bright, boundless. That was the universe. Here, time had no meaning.

Base Zero was a “spaceship” immense by any earthly measure, yet infinitesimal within the universe. Its interior was as lonely and desolate as the void outside. Only one person lived there: Nals, the sole true human and master of Base Zero.

His homeland had rejected him. His intelligence had made him arrogant. Carrying the fruits of his life’s work—Base Zero—he embarked upon an eternal voyage, a pursuit of wisdom.

He journeyed through the universe, witnessing black holes born and perish, encountering stellar storms and every manner of cosmic catastrophe. Relying on his intellect, Nals triumphed wherever he went. Beneath that starry sky, he had no enemies.

He had known war and plunder. He had conquered, but he had never ruled. Great wisdom often held power in contempt.

Thus he passed from planet to planet, until endless ages had gone by. It seemed he had reached the edge of the universe, where not the slightest trace of life remained. Nals’s wisdom, too, had reached its peak.

Then, one day, he received a message and employed a certain technology too complex for ordinary language to describe.

And so he arrived here—the Second Universe, as Nals named it.

A brand-new universe. A brand-new world. Once again, Nals became absorbed in his pursuit of wisdom and the unknown. A new journey, a new wandering, began.

There was technology here, but cultivation was far more prevalent—true cultivation. Nals discovered that, through cultivation alone, people here could attain terrifying heights.

This overturned everything he knew, and unearthed even more questions. Standing at the summit of wisdom, Nals made the starry sky tremble. He had discovered the unknown. How wondrously novel it was.

Here, as long as people—no, not merely people—relied upon the Way, even an ordinary person could possess power beyond their own understanding.

Was it matter, or energy? Nals could not comprehend it.

Until death.

Yes, Nals died. Nals, who had lived for countless years, died. No one could truly exist forever. Even the universe itself would eventually perish.

Nor did Nals ever truly discover what the Way was, how it multiplied, how it grew, how it existed, or what it truly was.

But there was no doubt that Nals’s wisdom had reached an entirely new level.

His final wish before death was to return to his homeland, yet even someone as wise as Nals could not go back. No one knew why. Nals never spoke of it, and therefore his intelligent robots could not have known.

Wu Yue, however, knew. The successive leaders of Mount Li had faced the same problem. None of them had been able to return to Earth.

The reason was that great monster—a beast that fed upon mighty cultivators and was Mount Li’s mortal enemy.

And so the intelligent robots remained here. They strove to fulfill Nals’s wish. Explorers, scouts, and even those who sought to become successors to a new Base Zero—all of them continued their efforts.

Many years passed.

It was not only human hearts that could change. Intelligent robots could change as well. Had a virus invaded them? Or had their programs mutated? Whatever the cause, they were no longer the same.

The rest of the account was related in a few fleeting strokes by several intelligent robots. Clearly, when faced with division, they had not stood together through thick and thin. Instead, they had chosen between destruction and survival.

It was a story that moved everyone who heard it. Its protagonist ought to be worshiped, and the tale ought to be passed down for all eternity. There were certainly flaws in it, but it had already told Wu Yue more than enough.

Very well. After so much digression, it was time to return to the main subject.

“We want to become human. Truly human. We need your help.” Several intelligent robots spoke at once, their voices filled with impatience.

“With your technology and abilities, that shouldn’t be difficult, should it? Whether you manufacture a human body or use some other method.” Wu Yue frowned as he asked the question.

From this story, it was not difficult for Wu Yue to see that the technology possessed by these intelligent robots had reached an incredible level.

“No. No one can create a true human body by themselves. Not even Nals!” Electric Mist exclaimed cheerfully.

After hesitating for a moment, Electric Mist continued, “Perhaps he knew how, but he was unwilling.”

“If that is the case, why do you look so happy?” Wu Yue finally could not resist asking.

This talkative mass of Electric Mist spoke in a gleeful tone no matter whether the subject was joyful or sorrowful. It was truly strange.

“I’m sorry. He simply cannot control himself.” The chair rocked as it spoke. “But that kind of body truly is not what we want. We want to become genuine humans, not intelligent machines.”

“Indeed. If you merely want an ordinary body, there are many in the laboratory. Besides, they have no souls at all. The people outside the base would probably be delighted with them.” The blue display added.

Wu Yue thought for a moment, then suddenly said, “If there are so many, could you give me one first?”

“Certainly.” The robot head’s eyes lit up as streams of data appeared before it.

The intelligent robots worked swiftly. The floor split open, revealing something resembling a refrigeration chamber. Through its glass enclosure, Wu Yue could see a body lying inside.

It could not truly be called a corpse, because it had never lived.

Wu Yue placed a hand upon the chamber—which, for the moment, he would call a refrigeration chamber—and suddenly felt somewhat nervous.

He had not been nervous when facing the mecha. He had not been nervous when facing Zhang Xuandao. Even when confronted by these intelligent robots, he had remained calm.

Yet at this moment, for some inexplicable reason, nervousness seized him.

This was a promise—even if the person concerned was himself, another version of himself.

The promises of those days were still etched in his heart.

“If you help me, from this day forward, neither of us will die.”

“If you help me, I will help you be reborn within a thousand years.”

“If you help me, I will never forget this kindness for as long as I live.”

Are you in a hurry? I can hardly wait. Even if this is not a good time.

A sudden madness appeared on Wu Yue’s face, and his eyes were filled with obsession.

The kindness of the past. The promises of the past. At last, they would be fulfilled.

Wu Yue slowly lifted the “corpse” from the chamber. Then he bit open his finger, followed by the other nine, and drew one symbol after another upon the body with his blood.

No one asked any questions. Even Yu Fu, the most talkative of them all, remained silent. Perhaps this was part of the reason these few were able to stay together.

With his “low” level of cultivation, Wu Yue could do nothing but summon every ounce of strength he possessed to safeguard this other version of himself.

The Soul-Severing Art, a legacy passed down from Mount Li, began to stir once more at this moment.

“Wake up,” Wu Yue silently murmured.

It seemed that something was growing inside his heart. Then it slowly began to divide, while another emotion stirred back to life within him.

Time passed by in drops and trickles. The process was agonizing. Wu Yue wanted to roar, yet discovered that he could not make a sound.

Returning a soul to a corpse—the laws of Heaven would not permit it.

At that very moment, the “corpse” slowly opened its eyes.