Chapter 1735: The Red Dust Flows; Fourth Calamity (8)

Like a dream…

Life, after life, after numerous lives…

The life of a mortal was wonderfully brilliant, from their first breath to their last. They existed as a finite concept, something they understood on an instinctual level at inception. A phenomenon of unprecedented mystery shrouded by the torrents of red dust of mortality.

The life of a mortal was disastrously cruel, from their first breath to their life. They existed as a pitiful concept, something they refused to understand on an instinctual level at inception. A phenomenon of unprecedented pity, shrouded by the torrents of red dust of mortality.

The duality of life, the silent struggle of existence.

And as of this moment, a young mortal that was destined for death, defying fate time and time again, brazenly and completely, was subjected to a calamity of mortal life. There were times when he felt fulfilled and satisfied. This specific time was lacking any loss, and every day was a radiant dawn worth exploring. Then, he suffered loss after loss after loss after loss. While his heart had died and crumbled at times, like dried dust in the wind, inexplicably, this young mortal always rebuilt himself.

Time and time again.

And yet, each time his heart grew stronger. Subtly. Invisibly. Until one day, Hell, Heaven, Divinities, and Calamities were no longer able to shake his heart.

The Red Dust Dimension, the fourth level of Hell, known as the Calamity of Mortal Despair, faced its toughest challenge since inception: shake the heart of a mortal that had reached an unprecedented peak, one that had tasted despairing loss and reached acceptance with a calm smile.

Eighteen lives would unfold as they made the attempt.

Firstly, the Life of Stagnation; for the Sinful Pride, this was an unprecedentedly difficult and perilous tribulation to face, enough to instill the harshest and most frustrating form of despair in one's life—seeing the elevation of all those around you, while you… stagnated like still water.

It was like the saying of certain individuals who peaked during academic education, experiencing great social success and popularity, yet when thrust into the greater world, these individuals could never reach a similar height of respect, wealth, and ability. They might never become number one in certain physical activities or outperform at their business as their formerly underperforming peers.

This type of despair could break countless men and women without mercy. And many have broken, taking their life with a grievance against the world, unable to improve their outlook no matter how they tried. A sad end.

Wei Wuyin experienced this in the greatest stride. He was not originally the Inheritor of Sin: Pride. While he was incredibly proud, that had been refined and tempered by the incessant humbling of loss and acceptance. His pride was gained through rightful acquisition after numerous trials and tribulations. He didn't feel owed anything by the world nor felt that his life of contentment was painful.

When he took his last breath in that life, he was surrounded by loved ones and a thriving legacy. How could he be dissatisfied by such an idyllic end?

A perfect end.

When that life faded away into the flow of red dust, the second life began: The Life of Unforgiving Love.

Once again, this was a tragedy of a life. His beginnings were promising, and there was no need to change much from the baseline of his original life. He was a young master of a prominent clan of a city. While growing up, he had met many different ladies, some had a spark while others hadn't, but one ticked all the boxes in terms of looks, personality, and demeanor.

He inevitably fell head over heels for this beautiful woman. While nothing official or substantially intimate had happened between them, their interactions continuously brought hope to a great, lively future. Then, his hopes were granted. They were engaged to be married. The talk of the town.

However, cultivation was unforgiving, and while his talent was excellent, his personal wealth was middling at best, unable to satisfy their needs to cultivate to higher stages. They might never become Mortal Gods.

Then, on their wedding day, the happiest day of his life, just as they were about to consummate their marriage and seal it in joint loss of purity, a powerful cultivator descended. He was undeniably handsome, his cultivation far exceeding the Wi Condensation Realm, a genuine Astral Core Realm cultivator.

And at first glance, he had fallen for her.

The story next as one could guess. Taken from him while his masculine pride was crushed, the wedding that was originally his had been reversed, and on that same night, another wedding was performed while he was stripped of his hard-earned cultivation with a single flick of that man's finger. He could only watch, no, was forced to watch as the woman he loved was taken again and again and again while naked in the corner…

Her moans were louder than thunder itself, and her flushed and beautiful countenance was unforgettable. At the end, when she accepted this newcomer without giving him a single glance, not out of caring for his life being in danger if he did, but out of genuine happiness, that scene was equally as unforgettable.

Life from then on should have been pain itself. No man worth their salt could accept such despairing humiliation.

However, Wei Wuyin stared at the sky as rain dripped as if the very heavens were crying on his behalf, yet his heart, which should have been stabbed with hate, frustration, and despair, was incomparably clear.

When he was given the dreadful diagnosis by the top Medicinal Sage of the continent, Sage Xiaotian, that his ability to cultivate would never recover, there was only serenity in his thoughts.

When he was told that he was instilled with impotence by that man's heartless efforts, unable to have children as well, not even a single sigh or frown formed on his expression.

When his clan lost their position and wealth, was driven out of the city, and forced to become beggars on the side of the street, he didn't mind, only took odd jobs and fished to earn ends meet.

Then, a year later, he had heard of how they had a child and that man had disgustingly given that person his name: Wuyin. The act was a form of incredible disrespect.

Wei Wuyin didn't cry or roar or kneel or end it all. Within his right eye's pupil, a saber formed. He found a single frail and thin branch fallen from an aging tree, and Wei Wuyin walked toward his grand palace forged in the sky with nothing else.

When he arrived at their doorstep, the man arrived alongside his former love while carrying her child. He wasn't emotionless. He wasn't even angry. But the teaching of his brother remained in his heart. He drew his branch like he would a saber from its scabbard without the slightest bit of cultivation, yet there was an unprecedented sharpness emitted from its edge.

A single swing to end it all.

That day…

…Wei Wuyin was viciously tortured and crushed, crippled of his four limbs, and left dying while his last living minutes tasted like his own blood with the soft pattering of rain on his face, almost reminiscent of tears. The cloudy skies seemed as if the heavens themselves were pitying him.

He died alone.

The first two lives had opposing finales, yet not once had his heart to live or cultivate wavered.

Outside the Red Dust Dimension, the variety of hell denizens were all equally silent. At some point, for some inexplicable reason, the dimension began to expose itself and reveal the faint, vague contents of each life. While they couldn't get exact details, they knew what type of despair-inducing calamity he was facing.

And when the second life ended, the Life of Unforgiving Love, Soul Deterge Mist hadn't descended. Not even a single speck. This was unprecedented. And they were all shaken to see a mere mortal subjected to such a torturous life and not feel a single ounce of pain.

It had to be understood that Wei Wuyin was fully immersed in the dimension. There were no external signs of resistance or attempts to escape from reality by regaining a sense of self. He was largely experiencing these calamities with only his sense of existence from his life.

What type of suffering must a mortal experience, no—what type of mentality and sense of existence had to be cultivated to face this life with an unmoved heart?

Incredible.

Back in the final moments of his life in the second life, his right eye released a faint sharp glow.

Wei Wuyin hadn't died alone.

He was never alone.

He would never be alone in any life.

And with his family by his side, what was there to despair as long as he had them? Stagnation? Brutal loss of love? Let's see what else Hell had to send their way!

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