Chapter 462: The Passage of Time
Chapter 462: The Passage of Time
Three hundred years of changes held memories of the past.
To Zuo Meng, three hundred years wasn’t a long time, but they held a special significance. This world had sealed many of his memories. Though he knew he’d possessed immense longevity as a creator—even forgetting the concept of time itself—those were different lifetimes. In this world, every use of the Dream Realm’s power required ‘seeds’, creating a hazy barrier that made everything feel unreal.
“Just three hundred years.”
Zuo Meng walked up the mountain path without hiding his presence, allowing every strong individual in the tribe to sense him.
“Who is this man?”
The newly promoted elder Yuan Kun paled as he watched the approaching figure.
Though he couldn’t gauge Zuo Meng’s cultivation level, the sheer Pressure radiating from him overwhelmed the entire area. None of the experts Yuan Kun had encountered—not even the Totem Tribe’s dignitary he’d met earlier that year—could compare.
“Why would such a powerhouse visit our Border Tribe?”
Yuan Kun’s face tightened. As Zuo Meng neared the tribal entrance, the elder took a steadying breath and moved to intercept. Retreat wasn’t an option—his family and the tribe’s vulnerable members stood behind him.
Three silhouettes descended as Yuan Kun acted. Zuo Meng had withdrawn his Pressure, letting them approach freely.
“Elder Yuan, who’s this…?”
The current tribe leader eyed Zuo Meng warily. He’d risen to leadership after Zuo Meng’s departure. During Zuo Meng’s time as elder, he’d been merely an Open Meridians-stage junior. By generation, he belonged with Little Girl’s cohort.
From the farthest point, Little Girl flew toward them—but instead of joining the group, she headed straight for the mysterious visitor.
“Elder Zuo! Be careful!”
The tribe leader’s warning came too late. Unlike Yuan Kun, he recognized the signs—this Pressure surpassed the Endless Realm. Only a King-level expert from the Great Wasteland could emanate such might. Such beings could erase their tribe with a casual gesture.
“Grandpa Meng?”
Ignoring the others, Little Girl landed near Zuo Meng. The middle-aged woman stared at the ageless face, voice trembling with hope.
Zuo Meng paused, recognition dawning.
That little girl from long ago.
“Unexpected to find familiar faces.” His smile held centuries of weathered memories.
Time’s cruelty made reunions precious miracles. Even insignificant connections gained warmth across centuries. Three hundred years seemed brief compared to his creator’s eternity—yet the solitude still baffled him.
“Thousand Mountain Realm. Impressive.”
Zuo Meng instantly assessed her cultivation. The girl he’d casually mentored now stood as a Core Elder—achieving the status he’d once been denied.
“Where’s the old leader?”
His gaze swept the unfamiliar faces. None remained from the elders who’d opposed him long ago.
“The old leader… passed a century back.” The new leader swallowed hard. “Are you… Elder Zuo Meng?”
This was his first encounter with a King-level expert. Though rumors claimed the Totem Tribe housed such beings, none had ever visited their remote settlement.
“A century…” Zuo Meng sighed. Death erased old grudges, leaving only emptiness.
While Zuo Meng reminisced, the tribesmen trembled. Most believed Zuo Meng had perished in the dangerous outer realms centuries ago. Yet here he stood—not just alive, but a King-level big shot!
“Grandpa Meng… Will you stay this time?”
Little Girl hurried to guide him, three centuries dissolving like morning mist. She’d thought all kin were gone.
“No more wandering.”
He’d seen enough. Now he needed to find this world’s exit node, escape the ‘bamboo scroll’, and resume exploring that strange house seeking the real world.
They reached Wangu Tribe’s territory—now thriving with playing children who’d never known the Great Wasteland’s dangers. Wide-eyed toddlers stared at the stranger accompanying their ‘grandma’.
“Your home’s there, Grandpa Meng.”
Little Girl had relocated Wangu Village during her Open Meridians days, using her Saintess authority to preserve every detail.
Zuo Meng stared at the thatched cottage where he’d first awakened.
Three centuries of decay should have destroyed it, but special ability preserved the structure. For a moment, he saw her—the woman who’d sacrificed everything for her son, smiling in the doorway.
“Xiao Meng, you’re back!”
The vision faded, leaving only wind whistling through rotting thatch—time’s relentless whisper.