Chapter Ten: Before the Journey Through Time

PS: I’m hopeless at designing covers and couldn’t find anyone to help, so I just threw something together myself. If anyone’s good at this, I’d really appreciate some help making a proper cover! By the way, I finally managed to sign a contract, so please add me to your collection and give me some recommendations!

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

After finally climbing down from the stone pillar, Feng Xue returned to the Extraordinary Rank classroom, only to find Xia Mi lazily sprawled over her desk, listening to music. Oddly enough, the usually sharp-tongued, incorrigible Xia Mi was actually listening to classical music. Although Feng Xue couldn’t name the piece, the melody was undeniably beautiful, though it felt wasted on someone as indolent as Xia Mi.

“Made it to a hundred points?” Xia Mi cracked an eye open, glanced at Feng Xue with the barest interest, then shut it again to continue listening.

“That’s right, old hand. Got any advice for a newcomer?” Feng Xue flopped carelessly into the seat across from her, opening his student ID to look over some tips penned by his forerunners in the art of dimension travel.

Xia Mi didn’t hold back, replying, “You only crossed over once this semester, and that was for a cultivation mission. That means your cohort has wasted one opportunity. But don’t worry, most Extraordinary Rank freshmen only travel three times: once for the entrance exam, once for the final, and the one in between—which is this one, after learning Ripple Qi technique.”

“So, I should go register for a crossover now?” Feng Xue scratched his head, catching Xia Mi’s languor like a contagion—he was starting to feel sleepy himself.

“Don’t rush. First, you should decide which path you want to take.” Xia Mi pointed at herself. “If it weren’t for cultivating immortality, would I have chosen this patience-grinding Slumbering Dragon Art? I’m not a masochist!”

Feng Xue nodded. The ‘path’ here wasn’t just a reference to one’s system of power. After all, this world was no game—a melee fighter could learn a spell or two, and a mage could master close combat. The so-called path was about one’s essential core.

As previously mentioned, a dimension traveler’s growth is nothing but absorbing abilities from various worlds, optimizing heart, technique, body, and soul, ultimately breaking through the Four Gates of Divinity, reaching the Divine Realm, and mastering the laws of existence.

But this optimization isn’t without cost. Because what a traveler needs to advance are the Four Gates, other abilities and techniques merely provide nutrients—or even fuel—for their evolution. Before breaking through, the Four Gates have limited capacity; you can’t endlessly pile on power. (Think of a multiverse protagonist strengthening themselves with various bloodlines: today the Hulk, tomorrow Toguro, the next day a Saiyan—eventually, your genes would collapse.) The wisdom of countless predecessors, however, is not to be underestimated. They devised a solution: choose a core ability, nurture it with the nutrients from countless other powers, and let this ever-evolving core feed the Four Gates. (To use the bloodline analogy, it’s like specializing in Majin Buu’s bloodline—today you absorb the Hulk, tomorrow Toguro, but at your core, you’re still Buu.)

This means a traveler must find an ability capable of continuously nourishing the Three Gates—essence, energy, and spirit (the soul gate is sustained by one’s original cultivation technique)—to serve as their foundation.

To borrow a term from myth, this is one’s Dao-founding cornerstone.

Take Xia Mi, for example: she chose the most difficult path for a dimension traveler—cultivating immortality.

And “most difficult” is no exaggeration. When travelers pass between worlds, time does not stop flowing.

Though passage through the Dimensional Gate prevents physical aging, it cannot halt the consumption of life force (lifespan). For instance, the maximum lifespan at the Mundane Rank is 120 years. Enter a world at age 20, spend a hundred years in a sub-plane, and emerge still physically 20—but at life’s limit. Without some life-extension method, you’ll die soon after returning. (Incidentally, maximum lifespan decreases proportionally. At the Legendary Rank, you might have 900 years, but if you burn 30 years at the Mundane Rank, even upon instantly ascending to Legendary, you’d only have 675 years left—not 870.)

Yet, cultivating immortality requires enormous amounts of time.

That’s why Xia Mi bet everything on the Slumbering Dragon Art, which could maximize her potential.

Feng Xue, on the other hand, didn’t have many options.

So far, his Heart Gate was Deceit, and his Qi Gate was Imaginary Number—both rather insubstantial, clearly tilting toward spellcasting, perhaps even illusion.

But Feng Xue knew spellcasting couldn’t be the core. It produced no “nourishment,” unless he chose a bloodline transformation like a sorcerer or warlock. Yet bloodline transformation is the first of the Eight Great Taboos for travelers, and no one who’s broken any of them has ever escaped the Enforcement Department, comprised entirely of True Gods.

Thus, from the start, he seemed to have but one road: the reward from the entrance exam mission—Gourmet Cells.

To ascend through eating, and become divine!

“Looks like you get it.” Xia Mi grinned at him. “The entrance exam reward isn’t just a prize—it’s meant to give freshmen a core ability they can use forever. Of course, the scions of great families already have their legacies, but for special admissions like us, it’s pretty much our only way forward.”

Feng Xue nodded. No wonder failing the evaluation meant expulsion.

“Is your ‘Heart of the Zither’ the same?”

“Of course. Without it, I’d never have bothered gambling on the Slumbering Dragon Art! But after obtaining the Heart of the Zither, I’m almost certain I can manifest the Prisoned Oxen Dharma Form!” Xia Mi’s face glowed with confidence.

“My Gourmet Cells don’t come with a matching cultivation technique. All I can do is eat, eat, eat, and use raw vitality to nourish the Four Gates. But that really limits my choice of worlds.” Feng Xue frowned. He hadn’t expected Xia Mi to choose her soul technique after the entrance exam. He had to admit, this woman truly was once the top genius of the Eastern Human Clan—her composure was leagues beyond his.

“It’s fine. The Dimensional Gates at Central Traverser Academy are special—each day you get at least ten thousand world options, a hundred times the ordinary ones. Take your time; you have six months. You’re sure to find a suitable world.” Xia Mi patted his shoulder. “You should have 120 credits now. Spend a hundred on a spatial device—don’t pick an implanted one, it’s a hassle to remove later. Use the remaining twenty on survival supplies—food and water go without saying, but be sure to exchange for currency. Twenty thousand soft-currency units’ worth for each era and country should do. These scraps of paper cost little, and even if you don’t use them now, you’ll need them eventually. Don’t be like those idiots who only bring precious metals. Not only could that attract trouble, but finding ways to sell them is a headache. Still, bring a bit, since some worlds use precious metals as currency. Finally, when choosing your world, never go somewhere above your own rank—never!”

Feng Xue memorized every word. He knew these were hard-won lessons, and a little thought now could save him from endless troubles later.

At Central Traverser Academy, credits were hard currency. Shopping was a breeze—just use your student ID to order, and within three hours your purchases would be delivered straight to your dorm. The real hassle was applying for a crossover: signing life waivers and travel agreements took a mountain of paperwork.

……

“Hoo…” At last, Feng Xue stood before the Dimensional Gate Hall again, letting out a long breath.

This time, unlike the last, the hall was bustling, with a long line at the entrance.

The gates themselves didn’t require queuing, but entering the hall did. Two intimidating staff members stood at the doors, checking each student’s travel eligibility in turn.

Central Traverser Academy had three Dimensional Gates, set in the Real, Fantasy, and Mythic Zones. The students queuing here were all senior Transcendent Rank students.

No wonder—besides Feng Xue and Xia Mi, all the Extraordinary Rank students were still in the Stone Forest!

The line moved quickly, and before long, Feng Xue was at the front. Expecting to breeze through like the others, he was surprised when a staff member glanced at his file and suddenly asked, “What is the first of the Eight Great Taboos for dimension travelers?”

Feng Xue was momentarily stunned, but recovered at once: “It is forbidden to acquire nonhuman bloodlines. Violation is punishable by death!”

“Good. I hope you remember that. Every newcomer is asked, but every year, we still have to personally execute more than a few violators. Consider yourself warned.” As the gatekeeper spoke, a wave of killing intent washed over Feng Xue, nearly knocking him to the ground.

By the time he came to, drenched in sweat, he’d already stepped into the hall, barely aware of it. For the first time, he’d been truly pressed by the fear of death. He knew they wouldn’t really act, but that aura was enough to shatter the resolve of anyone who wasn’t mentally steeled.

“So this is the customary show of force for all newcomers,” Feng Xue muttered, brushing it off as he walked toward the gates. Here, at least a hundred people stood, gazing at the portals with vacant eyes.

The Eight Great Taboos are lessons every aspiring traveler must master—eight rules, each with death as the penalty for violation.

Such draconian laws are not arbitrary, but exist for the sake of all humankind.

Take the first rule, for example—

Sub-planes teem with myriad bizarre races, many possessing innate gifts humans can never hope to match: Red World Apostles are born able to touch the laws of existence, dragonkind circulate magic with their very blood, their breath releases mana, and the demonfolk live ten times longer than humans. But no matter their powers, they are not human.

In the beginning, many humans found ways to acquire the bloodlines of these other races, and for a time, they achieved impressive results. But as these people grew stronger, the race’s Law-level experts realized humanity’s fortune—its vital destiny—was slipping away. The cause: those travelers who had acquired nonhuman blood.

Destiny: indefinable, yet real. For a race, it is intertwined with survival and honor, and is invested in its strongest members. The more powerful, the greater the fortune they carry. But once they acquire nonhuman blood, their human destiny begins to bleed away, flowing to alien races. The stronger they become, the greater the loss. For the sake of humanity’s future, every one of these traitors was erased.

Thus, forbidding the acquisition of nonhuman bloodlines became humanity’s First Taboo.