My Simulated Road to Immortality Chapter 2385 - 1772: Truth and Falsehood

The instant every trace of Starlight got swallowed.

All elements of the outer realm—visions, noises—faded away entirely.

Absolute, unadulterated blackness and stillness enveloped Zhang Fan completely.

Nothing existed besides Zhang Fan.

The very notion of Time dissolved into oblivion.

Following an prolonged dead hush, a faint, murmuring noise abruptly echoed in Zhang Fan’s ear.

In the midst of such profound quietude, it struck like a thunderbolt.

"This is..."

Zhang Fan recognized the voice as oddly familiar, though recollection eluded him right then.

Although the Return to God had flashed by in an instant, to Zhang Fan, it felt like endless ages had elapsed.

His recollections started to erode and fade.

Thus, he naturally yearned to heed it closely.

Resembling the initial cry of a cicada, swiftly swelling into a multitude of voices.

A second earlier, mere soft murmurs; the following instant, it swelled into a vast, awe-inspiring orchestra.

"Xuan Yuanhong, Master of Slaying Destiny, the old fisherman..."

Names both known and alien surfaced one by one in Zhang Fan’s Spirit Consciousness.

Leaving him in slight uncertainty.

Zhang Fan had forgotten the identities of these individuals.

Yet their raspy calls carried a pressing tone, as if desperate to convey a message to Zhang Fan.

Sensing their urgency, Zhang Fan sought to steady himself, shutting out the barrage of other disruptive sounds.

However, events unfolded contrary to his desires.

Before long, those recognizable tones drowned in the overwhelming flood that followed.

Fresh voices started to emerge.

Some intimate, others foreign.

Intimate enough that Zhang Fan could name them effortlessly, foreign because no traces lingered in his Spirit Consciousness.

Zhang Fan faintly detected an anomaly.

"Am I..."

"Decaying?"

In that instant, profound bewilderment and disorientation gripped Zhang Fan.

Abruptly, his objective resurfaced in his thoughts.

God-slaying.

His bold history remained sharp in memory, the victory from engulfing Mountain Sea and shattering Star, his cultivation level, strength, and bearing all at their zenith.

He stood ready to challenge the legendary fallen True God.

Yet he hadn’t anticipated...

No True God appeared.

What met him instead was boundless isolation and obscurity.

In a blink, eternity stretched out.

His form and spirit commenced crumbling and waning.

And within him, everything he had previously absorbed, began to stir.

This deviated sharply from his expectations.

As though betrayed, a blazing anger erupted inside Zhang Fan.

"Come out!"

"You get out here for me!"

In fury, he bellowed.

But not even he could perceive the outburst.

The Dark Void persisted unchanging and timeless.

Like icy ocean depths, it quietly consumed Zhang Fan.

At that juncture, Zhang Fan sensed the piercing chill lurking in the gloom ahead.

He felt his vitality abruptly diminish, the essential ground beneath him vanishing swiftly. Urgently, he desired to draw in air.

Yet he couldn’t halt the decline.

The noises around him intensified steadily.

Resembling ominous clouds that blotted out the heavens and light.

Zhang Fan resembled a colossal creature on the brink of demise.

Weary, sprawled upon the earth, powerless to resist.

Under the blazing heat, his flesh rotting, preyed upon by insects and vermin.

"I am dying."

This awareness pierced his thoughts.

Then, a torrent of reluctance flooded Zhang Fan’s core.

"I toiled relentlessly, rising from a mere insignificant clone to this point. Devoured the origin, engulfed Mountain Sea, obliterated Lone Star. Nearly ascended to Godhood!"

"How could I perish in such an absurd manner?"

In wrath, Zhang Fan flailed his limb, attempting to scatter the insects buzzing over him.

But upon extending it, his arm turned into a breeding ground for more pests.

Rather than easing, the ambient clamor amplified further.

Resounding like a colossal wave.

Despite myriad regrets, Zhang Fan sensed his being dwindling, inexorably approaching oblivion.

In a stupor, he caught a chilling gnawing noise.

It appeared that amid the shadows, an enormous entity was methodically consuming him.

Unlike the minuscule insects, its consumption proceeded leisurely and refined.

Almost whimsically, savoring the downfall of Zhang Fan, the "New God."

As if doused with freezing water amid winter, the raging inferno in Zhang Fan’s soul snuffed out at once.

Fear alone lingered.

At this point, no impulse to fight back stirred in his Spirit Consciousness.

Only a frantic urge to flee from that entity’s jaws.

But its devouring proved inevitable, akin to destiny, inescapable.

Zhang Fan could merely observe in despair, witnessing each segment of his form torn, mangled, and gulped down.

Then broken down.

All that he had formerly ingested dissolved in this intangible breakdown.

In the end, solely Zhang Fan persisted.

The subsequent instant, even Zhang Fan faced total consumption.

Freed from other loads, a fresh spark of survival ignited in Zhang Fan.

He had lost track of much, nearly all in fact.

Yet one element endured in memory.

"True..."

"True or false..."

Like a beacon flaring in the void, though unsteady, it momentarily lit up Zhang Fan’s scattered mind.

"True or false... Dao Mark?"

He dimly recalled a realm where [True or False] gestated.

Merely one step from emergence, yet confined in Mountain Sea, it remained stymied.

On his journey to Dao validation and divinity, he refrained from pulling that realm into himself.

Allowing it to evolve instead.

"It’s still there!"

As though glimpsing salvation, the surviving fragment of Zhang Fan blazed anew.

He strained to widen his gaze, seeking that sole sanctuary amid the infinite murk.

"There it is!"

Recollection surged back, and Zhang Fan swiftly located his aim.

An everlasting realm, hushed and adrift.

As if present from the dawn of creation.

Immutable across epochs.

The mute consumption in the shadows disregarded him utterly.

As if seizing the last lifeline, Zhang Fan countered the encroaching absorption with his leftover Divine Sense, and promptly arrived at that everlasting realm.

Even a mere fragment of it granted Zhang Fan unparalleled serenity.

All outer perils evaporated instantly, and Zhang Fan truly endured.

The obscurity receded, Time reclaimed its essence.

Zhang Fan’s might restored itself.

After all, he had once ingested the whole of Mountain Sea and even drawn in Lone Star.

Even a mere shard sufficed to deem him "powerful."

He gradually steadied his nerves.

The ordeal just passed resembled a harrowing dream.

Even presently, Zhang Fan struggled to grasp what had truly transpired.

But the recognizable [True or False] essence emanating from this everlasting realm filled him with profound security.

Logic steadily resurfaced.

"It truly did nurture successfully?"

This marked the initial coherent notion to arise in Zhang Fan’s Spirit Consciousness.