All Realms and Worlds: The Lost Home

"A time traveler?"

These three words, like a thunderclap, suddenly struck the female evil god's mind.

There was no earth-shattering roar, but it stirred up a monstrous wave deep within her already numb soul.

She shuddered, her hands gripping the twin demonic blades trembling uncontrollably. Black and red demonic energy surged erratically around her, and her once clear eyes lost their focus again. As if all her strength had been drained, she staggered back two steps and leaned heavily against a remaining rock.

Time traveler...

This word sounds so familiar.

It felt as if someone had called her that a long, long time ago, with a familiar warmth in their tone, and a hint of barely perceptible heartache.

But she couldn't remember exactly who it was, when, or where.

My mind was a complete blank, as if shrouded in a thick fog. Those blurry fragments desperately tried to emerge, but were suppressed by an invisible force and vanished in an instant.

The female evil god closed her eyes, her brows furrowed tightly, and she held her head in her hands, desperately trying to recall and grasp at the fragments of memory that were about to disappear.

The harder I tried, the more my mind throbbed with pain. Those fragmented images flashed by like a revolving lantern, but I could never piece them back together. Instead, they brought wave after wave of tearing pain.

She remembered the evil god's potion that slayed demons.

It was a place more terrifying than hell, pitch black, cold, and filled with endless slaughter and despair.

There, she experienced countless deaths and countless resurrections.

Sometimes, she would be torn apart by other raging evil gods, her soul devoured bit by bit, the excruciating pain penetrating to her very bones, each breath feeling like swallowing blades; sometimes, she would be treated as a plaything by the lustful demon, eroded by his demonic energy, and tortured at will, unable to live or die; sometimes, she would wait alone in endless darkness for death, feeling her soul grow weaker and weaker, worn away bit by bit.

Again and again, in an endless cycle.

She had endured countless days and nights, and suffered untold pain. Her soul was riddled with holes from the torment. Her memories, her very being, were gradually erased and devoured in each death and rebirth.

She forgot who she was, where she came from, what she had experienced, and even why she was here and why she had become this inhuman, ghostly, and evil god-like figure.

All she knew was that she had to survive, to desperately survive this endless suffering.

What sustained her as she repeatedly crawled back from the brink of death was not the thirst for power, nor the obsession with killing, but rather the faint, yet never extinguished, warmth deep within her heart.

It was a memory so vague, like a distant dream.

She vaguely remembered that she had a home.

It wasn't a magnificent palace, nor a heavily guarded sect; it was just a small room.

The room was small but warm. Sunlight streamed through the windows and fell on the floor, creating a cozy atmosphere. A faint, pleasant fragrance filled the air, her favorite scent.

Inside the house, there was a snow-white creature.

It was very small, fluffy, like a ball of snow-white cotton, with a pair of round, bright black eyes. It always clung to her, following her wherever she went, rubbing its little head against her palm and making soft, sweet meows that were warm and comforting.

She remembers always holding it, sitting by the window, basking in the sun, and gently stroking its soft fur. At that moment, all her worries vanished, leaving only peace and happiness.

Besides the small, snow-white creature, there was also a blurry figure inside the house.

The figure was blurry; her features and shape were indistinct, yet it gave her an incomparably warm and reassuring feeling.

Whenever she was sad, that figure would gently pat her back and tenderly comfort her; whenever she was happy, that figure would laugh with her, their laughter gentle; whenever she encountered difficulties, that figure would stand in front of her, sheltering her from the wind and rain.

That was the warmest light in her life.

Countless times, she wanted to see that figure's face clearly, wanted to know who she was, and wanted to remember what she looked like.

No matter how hard she tried, the figure remained blurry, as if shrouded in a thick fog. No matter how she reached out to grab it, she couldn't grasp it. She could only watch helplessly, feeling the warmth but unable to touch it.

It was this vague memory, this faint warmth, that sustained her as she struggled to wake up time and time again amidst the endless pain and death of the Evil God's Gu, and persevered in living on.

Even as her memories grew increasingly hazy, and even as that warmth dwindled, she never gave up.

Because she knew that it was her only concern, her only hope to live.

The female evil god unconsciously curled up a very faint smile at the corner of her mouth. In that smile, there was no evil, no coldness, only pure tenderness and longing. Tears unknowingly slid down from the corner of her eyes.

Those tears, carrying her last warmth and her longing for the past, were instantly evaporated by the surrounding evil energy before they could fall to the ground, turning into wisps of white mist that dissipated into the air.

She was immersed in this vague yet warm memory, and became completely dazed, standing still and motionless, as if everything around her had nothing to do with her.

Her eyes became empty and tender, and she unconsciously murmured, "Home... Little Dumpling... and you..."

"Little Dumpling" was the name she gave to that snow-white little creature.

This was one of the few things she could still vaguely remember.

Not far away, Shen Jianxin stood there quietly, neither rushing forward nor making any move to interfere.

He could clearly see the state of the female evil god at that moment.

He didn't speak, but just stared at her silently, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

As a fellow time traveler, he could understand this loneliness and pain, and the despair of wanting to grasp the past but being powerless to do so.

Just then, Shen Jianxin's brows furrowed slightly.

He keenly sensed that the surrounding evil energy seemed to have been stimulated in some way and had become unusually active.

The evil energy that was originally suppressed by the power of the Four Swords of Zhuxian, like sharks smelling blood, followed the chaotic demonic energy around Yue Meng and silently entered her body little by little.

Those evil energies, carrying the eerie power of the brass statue and the rage and chill of the evil god's plane, began to frantically erode Yuemeng's soul and her already blurred memories once they entered her body.

Shen Jianxin's expression instantly turned serious.

He could sense that the female evil god's soul was being gradually eroded by evil energy, and her aura was becoming increasingly chaotic and weak.

He knew that the female evil god was currently immersed in her memories, and her soul was extremely fragile. If he acted rashly, not only would he fail to save her, but he might also agitate her and cause her soul to collapse completely.

He could only remain still for the time being, secretly keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding movements, while the four swords of Zhuxian slowly emerged around him.

Four illusory sword energies slowly swirled around him, radiating immense power, suppressing the restless evil energy around him once again, and minimizing the evil energy's corrosive influence on the female evil god.

Looking at the four swords, a complex emotion welled up in Shen Jianxin's heart.

These are Jiang Wuchen's Four Swords of Zhuxian.

He disagreed with Jiang Wuchen's approach.

But he had to admit that at the last moment, Jiang Wuchen still saved him.

Perhaps it was Nannan's death that touched Jiang Wuchen.

The image of Nannan flashed through Shen Jianxin's mind. She was an innocent and carefree little girl who became a victim in this cruel conflict.

Shen Jianxin sighed softly, a hint of melancholy and sadness flashing in his eyes.

As fellow time travelers, they both struggled in this unfamiliar world, searching for their own way out, but ultimately, they embarked on completely different paths.

He didn't know what his future would hold, nor whether he would ever find his way home.

But he knew he couldn't give up, and he wouldn't compromise like Jiang Wuchen.

Just as Shen Jianxin was sighing inwardly, the female evil god's state suddenly underwent a drastic change.

The evil energy that had seeped into her body had begun to frantically erode her memories.

In her mind, the originally warm and blurry image was gradually distorting and becoming increasingly bizarre.

The small room, which was originally warm and bright, gradually became dark and cold. The windows were covered with strange cracks, and the sunlight was completely blocked. The air was filled with a strong smell of blood and decay, which replaced the original faint fragrance.

The snow-white little dumpling, which was originally docile, cute, and incredibly clingy, had now become unusually irritable. Every hair on its body stood on end, its once round, bright black eyes had turned bloodshot, and it let out a sharp and ferocious roar, baring its sharp fangs at her. It was no longer docile at all.

What pained her most was that blurry figure.

The figure that once gave her endless warmth and peace of mind is now gradually dissipating, like smoke blown away by the wind, becoming more and more transparent and blurry, almost completely disappearing from her memory.

"No...don't..."

The female evil god's body began to tremble violently. Her eyes were filled with panic and despair, and she unconsciously uttered weak pleas.

She desperately reached out, trying to grab the disappearing figure, the irritable little dumpling, and the warm little house that was about to vanish.

But her hands kept passing through those blurry images, only to grasp nothing.

Those evil energies, like invisible hands, are tearing her memories apart bit by bit, destroying her last warmth, and destroying her only hope of survival.

"No! Don't destroy it! It's my only remaining possession!"

The female evil god's emotions completely collapsed.

She let out a heart-wrenching scream, a scream filled with despair and resentment.

The black and red demonic energy around her erupted violently once again, intertwining and colliding with the evil energy within her body. Her body was enduring immense pain, and her soul was being torn apart bit by bit.

But she doesn't care.

She only cared about those warm memories, only about that blurry figure, only about that docile little dumpling.

That was the only light she had amidst countless deaths, the only strength that kept her alive.

She can't lose them!

"No!!!"

"No! No!!! Ah!!!!"

The heart-wrenching screams echoed again and again, filled with endless pain and despair, sending shivers down one's spine.

Seeing her pained expression, Shen Jianxin frowned deeply, a pang of pity rising in his heart.

He could sense that the female evil god's soul was rapidly collapsing. If this continued, she would likely be completely devoured by the evil energy, and her soul would be destroyed.

He knew that the female evil god was on the verge of losing her memories, and any external interference could cause her to lose her last bit of consciousness.

At that moment, a miracle actually happened.

Amidst the heart-wrenching screams of the female evil god, the blurry figure that was gradually dissipating slowly turned around.

Although it was still blurry and the features were still indistinct, the female evil god could clearly feel that the figure was looking at her, with eyes full of tenderness and heartache, as well as a trace of unwavering determination.

Immediately afterward, a broken, indistinct voice came from the figure, weak yet full of power, directly entering Yue Meng's mind:

"Moon...Moon Dream...Dream...Don't be afraid...Wait...Live...Hold on..."

Moon Dream.

These two words, like a ray of light, instantly illuminated her confused mind.

That's her name!

Her name is Yuemeng!

It turns out, she did have a name; her name was Yuemeng!

Yue Meng's body stiffened abruptly, and her scream stopped instantly. Her eyes widened as she stared intently at the blurry figure. Tears streamed down her face like broken beads, but they were evaporated by the evil energy before they could even touch the ground.

"I...I'm called Yue Meng..."

She murmured, her voice hoarse and weak, her eyes filled with ecstasy and hope.

She wanted to hear that voice again, to see that figure again, to ask her who she was, and to ask her what had happened between them.

But at that moment, the blurry figure suddenly began to shake violently, like smoke being swept away by a gale, and quickly dissipated.

That eerie little house, that grumpy little dumpling, and that gentle voice—all shattered completely at that moment!

Like a mirror, it was smashed to the ground and shattered into countless pieces, never to be pieced back together.

All the warmth, all the memories, all the hope, vanished completely in this moment.

"ah!!!!"

A more shrill and desperate roar erupted from Yue Meng's mouth.

This time, the roar was devoid of panic and pleas, leaving only endless resentment and despair.

Her body convulsed violently, and the black and red demonic energy around her became extremely chaotic. Evil energy raged wildly within her body, eroding every inch of her soul and every inch of her skin.

Tears continued to fall wildly, but they could never reach the ground. Instead, they turned into wisps of white mist and dissipated into the air, just like her shattered memories, which could never be retrieved.

"Hahahaha... Hahaha..."

Suddenly, Yue Meng burst into a maniacal laugh. The laugh was shrill and desperate, filled with endless sorrow, and echoed in the empty core area, sending chills down one's spine.

She laughed and cried at the same time, murmuring in a tone filled with despair and self-mockery:

"Tsukimome! Tsukimome! Is my name Tsukimome!?"

"In the end, is only one name left?!"

"I struggled with death countless times, I endured endless pain, I desperately tried to remember the warm things, I desperately wanted to live!"

"But in the end! My memories, everything about me, have been forgotten. Now, only one name remains... Moon Dream..."

"Everything I had was like a dream, as if it had never existed!"

"Have I already lost even the most important thing in my life?!"

Her voice grew increasingly hoarse and weak, until finally it almost turned into a sob.

She lost everything.

She lost her warm home, her gentle little dumpling, the blurry figure that gave her hope, all her memories, and the person she once was.

In the end, only a cold name remained—Moon Dream.

Those memories that sustained her through countless cycles of death and rebirth within the demon-slaying, monstrous cauldron, and those struggles to awaken time and again, have completely vanished.

She's even starting to lose track of what she's lost.

She didn't know why she was so angry, why she was so sad, why she was there, or why she had become like this.

All she knew was that her heart felt empty, as if a piece had been ripped out. That hollow pain was more unbearable and more despairing than any of the tortures within the Evil God's Gu.

As the evil energy continued to enter her body, her memories became increasingly blurred.

Those shattered images, those warm moments, those painful past events are all being gradually eroded and erased by the evil energy.

In the end, only two words remained in her mind—Moon Dream.

Apart from that, it was completely blank.

She didn't remember who Shen Jianxin was, what had just happened, why she was there, how much pain she had endured, or where the emptiness and sadness in her heart came from.

She couldn't even remember why she was so angry and desperate.

She just subconsciously felt that her heart was in pain and empty, as if she had lost the whole world.

Yue Meng slowly stopped laughing and screaming. She stood there blankly, her eyes empty and numb, devoid of any emotion, like a soulless sculpture.

Her hands hung limply at her sides, the two demonic blades already fallen to the ground with a crisp sound, but they could no longer attract her attention.

The black and red demonic energy around her gradually subsided and became extremely weak. The evil energy was still raging within her body, but it could no longer arouse any reaction from her.

She stood there quietly, motionless, staring blankly ahead, unconsciously murmuring, "Yuemeng... my name is Yuemeng..."

Again and again, in a flat tone, without the slightest ripple, yet revealing endless sorrow and emptiness.

Shen Jianxin stood quietly not far away, watching the scene before him, a strange bitterness and helplessness welling up in his heart.

He could sense that Yue Meng's soul had become extremely weak, and her consciousness had become blurred. Only a name remained to support her and prevent her from completely collapsing.

He knew that Yue Meng had completely lost all her memories, all her attachments, and all her hope of living.

Although he had never personally experienced the pain of losing everything, he could deeply understand it.

As fellow time travelers, they were both lonely, struggling in this unfamiliar world.

Yuemeng's experience reminded him of his own.

He didn't know if one day he would also lose all his memories and all his attachments, like Yue Meng, and become a soulless, emotionless walking corpse.

Shen Jianxin sighed softly, and the four swords of Zhuxian around him slowly retracted, the sword energy phantoms gradually dissipated, and the overwhelming pressure also weakened.

He walked slowly toward Yue Meng, his steps very light, as if afraid of disturbing her.

He walked up to Yue Meng, stopped, and quietly looked at her empty, numb eyes and her unconscious murmurs. After a long silence, he slowly spoke, his voice low and gentle: "Yue Meng."

Upon hearing the name, Yue Meng's empty eyes flickered slightly. She slowly raised her head and looked at Shen Jianxin. There was no familiarity in her eyes, only pure bewilderment, as if she were asking: Who are you?