The difference lies in the fact that this unique skill is something others cannot master, yet Feng Yi's Blank Paper Realm allows a handful of individuals to imitate his path and slowly comprehend it—Currently, besides Feng Yi himself, those able to use this technique include Sky Shadow and Kexiao.

As for Roland, Zhang Xiaobo is uncertain whether Roland can perform this maneuver, but Roland is capable of flying into the void by other methods, with a speed that rivals the Blank Paper Realm. Zhang Xiaobo considers Roland to be such an all-encompassing monster that it is fortunate this creature stands on the same side as him rather than opposing him.

Of course, even if they were adversaries, no one would harbor too much hostility toward Roland. Since the war began, Roland's role—her very essence—leans more toward that of an observer, a masquerader. Even in direct combat, Roland would likely only fight to a stalemate, never fully committing.

Whether it is a soldier, an enemy commander, or any opponent, none can decisively defeat Roland. She clearly refrains from forcefully subduing anyone through sheer might.

The only time Roland was seen faltering was during her traversal of higher-dimensional spaces, where she encountered the 40-year-old Feng Yi and faced Cantelu civilization's strongest warrior. She suffered a minor setback at the warrior's hands.

But one must understand that dimensions differ vastly, with rules that are incomparable.

The chubby one vividly remembers how Sara informed him that Feng Yi's realm was the Vertical-Horizontal Realm. Though she was unsure of its strength, Sara confidently declared that Feng Yi could effortlessly execute attacks akin to Sky Shadow's Destiny Starburst.

Moreover, Sara asserted that if Feng Yi from that dimension were to come to this world, he would undoubtedly defeat the Bizarre.

Alas, Feng Yi would never abandon his homeland, just as none of us would. No matter how devastated our native land may be, our longing for it remains unchanged. It is the place where we were nurtured, where every individual carries deep sentiments for their birthplace—a land that evokes memories of people, moments, and past landscapes once glimpsed, all etched into the tapestry of our hearts. The saying "falling leaves return to their roots" embodies this truth.

Because Feng Yi from that dimension had crossed the threshold of forty years, with experiences that rival anyone's, he smiled and declined Roland's request—and the requests of everyone else.

He understood, even when faced with people resembling his former comrades or acquaintances, that they were not the same. They lacked shared memories, shared experiences, and kindred souls; surface similarities were merely the husk. What we value most lies within—a sentiment that compels us to express emotions stirred by reminiscing about fragments of the past. These soul-carved, precious moments cannot be replicated.

The Feng Yi they once knew was no exception. Whether it was the youthful Feng Yi standing beside them or the Feng Yi of the Vertical-Horizontal period, neither was the one they used to know.

Upon encountering the alternate-dimension Feng Yi for the first time, the chubby one immediately perceived this truth. He avoided further interaction with these two versions of Feng Yi, knowing that increased contact would only muddle his emotions.

Nevertheless, as Sky Shadow, Roland, and Mengdie shared their impressions, claiming this aura closely resembled their former acquaintance Feng Yi, a new surge of emotion rose in the chubby one's mind. He urgently wanted to dive into the heart of the battlefield to discern whether it might truly be their long-lost comrade.

But as he ventured closer, inching toward the source of that aura, he felt an inexplicable dread sink into his chest. Anxieties arose—what if this expectation crumbled into disappointment? The swing between heaven and hell could crush anyone's resolve, and, from a rational perspective, it might severely drain the team's morale.

After all, Feng Yi had been dead for a year. Normally, his body would have decayed by now. The chubby one was not unaware of John's affection for Feng Yi and knew John likely took measures to preserve Feng Yi's body, but even then, that could only go so far. He struggled to believe the trio's claims—Why would Feng Yi's aura resurface in this starfield?

There's a saying that suggests two individuals' soul magnetic fields, their bio-magnetic fields, could align completely. Though this possibility is staggeringly rare, with a probability so infinitesimally small—a fraction of a billion—that it nearly defies belief.

Furthermore, on such a desolate planet, the chances of ordinary people reaching this place seem next to impossible. These considerations led credence to their theories, prompting the chubby one to make a decision. Quietly, cautiously, he opened his eyes a crack, stealing a glance at the imaging device nearby, eager to unveil the identity of the figure in the distance: Was it truly Feng Yi, the comrade he once knew? The chubby one froze in place…

"No, no. Impossible. This can't be… It's impossible, impossible," Zhang Xiaobo stammered repeatedly, his denial tumbling out without limit.

That figure was eerily similar to Feng Yi. Though the distance obscured finer details, the height and build matched perfectly with the images etched in his memory.

Keep in mind that every person's soul magnetic field is unique. Especially in the case of someone like Feng Yi, whose presence exudes an unmistakable aura; in any crowd, he would stand apart at a glance. Such was his distinction that, even with his back turned, one could faintly discern and recognize him.

And Zhang Xiaobo was not the only one speechless. Even Sky Shadow's jaw dropped wide enough to fit an egg, his incredulity matching Zhang Xiaobo's exclamations.

"How, how can this be? Impossible!"

Sky Shadow's expression was unusually comical; his ordinarily stern demeanor made his reaction particularly absurd, evoking unintentional humor.

Meanwhile, Roland's gaze tightened, her almond-shaped eyes narrowing into crescent slits, while her furrowed brows betrayed her inner turmoil. Despite suspecting hours earlier that someone bearing Feng Yi's aura lingered nearby, she remained unsettled.

Roland knew Feng Yi's body had irreversibly deteriorated long ago. She couldn't believe he was alive, nor could she imagine someone like Feng Yi—proud and unyielding—using Blade Warrior's technological solutions to freeze his body, extend his life, or gamble on the uncertainty of organ transplants. Such methods were inherently against Feng Yi's character.

Blade Warrior herself had confided the same sentiment, admitting her futile attempts at persuading Feng Yi to embrace certain measures to stave off physical degradation and prolong his life.

When Feng Yi heard her suggestions, he merely smiled faintly as though humoring an engaging story, nodding silently in response. Yes, Feng Yi was the most carefree among mortals, utterly devoid of servility or vanity. His was a soul more resolute than any other—a spirit that epitomized the transcendent elegance of his name. Enduring in legend, breathtakingly ethereal, Feng Yi's ambition soared like smoke heralding greatness. His life, though fleeting, was dazzlingly epic. Even in the cruelty of untimely death, he would never compromise his dignity to eke out an existence.

Roland, better than anyone, understood this. Thus, she lamented that, apart from the Revenge Shadow Rider, there would never again be another Flame Dual Slash, nor another Feng Yi.

In the final phase of Feng Yi's life, to rescue the vibrant and hopeful young squad, Feng Yi ventured alone into the depths of the Bizarre's ship, embarking on a perilous quest to save them all. He crossed dimensions, recklessly exhausting his lifeforce multiple times to lead his team out of danger. The Third Rhythm shattered illusory voids, even exposing and obliterating the Alternate Space conjured by cursed malicious phantoms within the inner world, reducing them to nothingness.

The Third Rhythm was both a rhythm of reality—imbued by the scattered atoms strewn across the universe—and a force that defied conventional limits, relentlessly tracking down any detectable essence. Space and time alike were surpassed. It was a divine realm, attainable only by gods—a realm that proved Feng Yi's worthiness as the Wind God.

Now, even the minstrel Bai Zhexian sings in his honor.

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