Chapter 268: Corrupted Memories, Mysterious Journey

“Again?”

Lu Yan curled his lip and couldn’t help but mutter under his breath.

The blood-red text glowing on the version update interface dimmed slightly, as if caught off guard by Lu Yan’s reaction.

Back when he first saw Changsheng Celestial invading the version update interface, Lu Yan had been gripped by fear and uncertainty.

At the time, he believed the version update interface was his greatest trump card. The strange means through which Changsheng Celestial had infiltrated it shook his sense of security and destabilized his mind.

But after repeatedly evading Changsheng Celestial’s schemes, Lu Yan had gradually grown accustomed to such interference.

Especially after entering the Great Collapse Domain, even the not-yet-fully-recovered Dao of Heaven of the Great Collapse could intrude into the version update interface.

Through that, Lu Yan had gained insight into some of the characteristics of the version update interface.

The interface appearing before his eyes was merely a representation shaped by the Immovable trait, projected in a form that Lu Yan’s mind could comprehend.

As a transmigrator, the systems Lu Yan was most familiar with were all manner of system panels from his past life, so the Immovable trait manifested in that way within his subconscious.

But the true essence of the Immovable trait couldn’t be confined to something as simple as a system interface.

These so-called “Sole Existence of This World” beings or Dao of Heaven could interfere with the version update interface only because they tampered with the link between Lu Yan’s subconscious and the Immovable trait.

Once he understood this essence, the seemingly bizarre intrusions no longer invoked fear.

Lu Yan’s gaze remained calm as he stared at the crimson text. Still, curiosity stirred in his heart—how exactly was the Main God managing to interfere?

After the collapse of the Main God version fragment, the Main God had lost all connection to this world and no longer had any medium to project its will. Interfering with the version update interface should have been impossible.

Just then, the interface changed again. A second version option appeared.

[Main God Version: Enter the Main God Space, and you shall be the sole transcendent!]

The once purely blood-red text now shimmered with a faint divine golden hue, silently stirring desire.

“Failing with threats, now you’re trying temptation?”

Once inside the Main God Space, whether one was called a reincarnator or a transcendent, they would be shackled under the Main God’s authority.

Life and death would be at the Main God’s whim. It could erase someone with a mere thought. That’s why things like the “Erasure Rule” existed in the first place.

So no matter how the temptation was phrased, the Main God Space’s essence remained unchanging.

The repeated failures seemed to have stirred anger.

The interface before Lu Yan began to ripple unnaturally. What was once calm and mirror-like distorted as if stirred by an invisible force.

A pitch-black hand slowly emerged from the frozen spacetime of causality, like a primordial existence born of chaos. It was darker than ink, darker than night, seeming capable of swallowing all light.

The hand reached out toward Lu Yan, breaching infinite dimensions as if stepping from illusion into reality. In its palm lay a roll of ancient parchment, exuding an unspeakable pressure.

Crimson letters writhed across the parchment like living creatures, as if inscribed with the blood of some unknown being, leaving an eternal mark.

[Main God Version: Life or death? It lies in your hands.]

A soul-chilling threat spread from the black hand, like a poisonous fog infiltrating every inch of Lu Yan’s divine soul.

It felt as though if he rejected it aloud, he would be instantly annihilated—body and soul erased from all worlds as if he had never existed.

Faced with such a deadly threat, Lu Yan smiled.

He slowly extended his hand, took the parchment, and promptly tore it to shreds.

“Your threats are meaningless.”

The next moment, the black hand lunged for his throat, its icy fingertips distorting the surrounding space with each inch it closed in, seemingly ready to end Lu Yan right there.

In response, Lu Yan simply brought his index and middle fingers together and gently pressed them against the center of his forehead.

In an instant, the black hand and everything else froze in place. The entire world’s spacetime became still.

Then, colors began to fade, like an old photo losing its pigment, everything decaying and crumbling into…

A memory.

Yes. Everything Lu Yan had just experienced was nothing more than a fabricated memory.

From the moment the version update interface appeared, Lu Yan had been puzzled—how had the Main God managed to interfere?

The subsequent temptations and threats only deepened his suspicion.

Even when Changsheng Celestial had meddled from within the demon-infested version, he still needed the Gate of Mystery Womb as a medium.

Now, in the isolated Great Traversal Version, the Main God shouldn’t have had the ability to interfere at all, let alone alter the three version options.

Especially when the black hand appeared—Lu Yan being completely powerless made no sense.

After all, the update hadn’t yet begun. Technically, he was still within the Great Traversal Version and held the authority of the Second Heavenly Dao as the master of the Divine Court.

Even the Main God himself shouldn’t have rendered him so helpless.

This unnatural sequence of events made Lu Yan realize: everything before him was false.

Memories spun in his mind. Creation Manipulation locked onto each fragment, tracing every sign of tampering.

Golden light burst from Lu Yan’s eyes as his divine ability manifested a golden hand, reaching deep into the depths of memory.

“Found you!”

There, in a hidden memory fragment—the moment the Main God had sacrificed hundreds of reincarnators to activate the Erasure Rule—it had left a mark, subtly interfering with the update interface.

Though the interference had later been neutralized by the Great Collapse Dao of Heaven, that brief moment created an unremovable anchor in Lu Yan’s memory, providing the opening the Main God needed to plant that entire illusion.

The golden hand struck the version update interface’s crimson Erasure Rule—instantly dispersing the illusion.

Memories slipped away like flowing water. Lu Yan opened his eyes again.

The frozen spacetime of the version update scene remained.

He looked again at the interface: no red fonts, no black hands—just three plain options.

[Main God Version: Want to understand the meaning of a version? Want true transcendence?]
[Mystery Version: The Old Ones have fallen, the True Gods slumber—madness is all that remains on the path to the extraordinary.]
[Lord Version: A world of national Lords—build territories, train armies, climb technology. Only the final victor may raise their Divine Nation into the starry sky.]

There were no abnormalities. Only then did Lu Yan truly relax.

He glanced at the first option.

Without the Main God’s tampering, the description hadn’t changed at all. That proved the Main God could no longer interfere in this world.

Lu Yan decisively dismissed it.

To him, both the Main God Version and Changsheng Version were indisputable death traps.

Then he looked at the second option: Mystery Version.

A flicker of hesitation crossed his expression.

Judging by the description, the Mystery Version was extremely dangerous.

In his understanding, this version had a corresponding fragment in the Great Traversal—it was the one controlled by the Seven Gods Church, where Saint Sien hailed from.

Before destroying each version, Lu Yan had studied them. The Seven Gods Church was clearly the strongest among the Nine Heavens—boasting seven True Gods, each likely a Sole Existence.

But according to various sources, the Mystery Version didn’t just include these seven—there were also hidden evil gods with great power, simply unable to control version fragments and thus hidden from public view.

Legends even spoke of Old Ones—beings mightier than True Gods from a bygone dark age.

The version description confirmed it: Old Ones fallen, True Gods slumbering.

With so many Sole Existences, entering this version meant enormous risk. If Lu Yan’s identity were exposed, he’d be hunted endlessly.

On the other hand, the third Lord Version seemed ideal for someone who had just established the Divine Court.

There, he could leverage the version’s mechanics to enrich the Divine Court of the Underworld and strengthen himself.

More importantly, the Lord Version likely lacked Sole Existences, making it far safer and offering steady growth.

But…

Its end goal was to ascend with a Divine Nation. If that referred to faith kingdoms or small realms, the version’s upper limit might be low.

If true, the benefits wouldn’t justify the effort.

Lu Yan furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

This was his first version after proclaiming the Divine Court of the Heavens—a choice he had to weigh carefully.

Eventually, his gaze settled on the second option.

Mystery Version.

At a glance, the third option seemed perfect. But a deeper look revealed a trap.

His starting point was too high. Even though the Lord Version hadn’t seen his past projection, the events of the Great Collapse would inevitably echo into it.

As a result, Lu Yan would surely start from the top.

And that brought its own danger.

There might be no Sole Existences, but there were definitely powerful Lords. If Lu Yan couldn’t completely suppress them, his prestige might suffer instead.

Worse still, nurturing a territory wasn’t something that could be done in mere months. Lu Yan could only stay in a version for half a year—far too short for territorial development.

By contrast, though the Mystery Version teemed with Sole Existences, the description clearly stated: Old Ones fallen, True Gods slumbering.

So long as he kept a low profile, he wouldn’t even encounter them.

Even when he destroyed the Mystery Version’s fragment, the Seven True Gods had made no move.

That meant they probably didn’t know what had happened. Information in the Mystery Version was opaque; the Divine Court could hide easily.

He could even act in person, using the Divine Court’s reputation to gain influence in secret.

But most importantly—

The reason he chose this version was the Sequence System.

From Sequence Nine to Sequence One, it offered a simple, straightforward path to power.

Lu Yan didn’t need it for himself—his cultivation path was already set.

But the Divine Court of the Underworld desperately needed a real cultivation system to stabilize its structure.

The Sequence System, for all its dangers, was clear-cut—perfect for forging a framework.

“Might as well walk the path of the Divine Court of the Heavens to the end.”

He whispered to himself.

Then, in a solemn voice, he spoke:

“I choose… the Mystery Version.”

As the words fell, the Great Collapse Domain began to change.

The azure sky cracked like porcelain, fragments falling away to reveal heart-palpitating void.

Darkness engulfed the land. Above, countless stars blinked like gazes of sentient beings, coldly watching the transformation.

A mysterious gray fog spread over all creation—not mist, not smoke, but something between illusion and reality. Like the very breath of the Dao, it permeated everything.

Even Lu Yan couldn’t see through it.

Within that mist lay secrets of reincarnation, truths of history—forever hidden just beyond reach.

The barren earth trembled. Strange patterns unfurled across the land, as if the world’s meridians were awakening.

Cities of steel and stone burst from the ground—grand, cold, lifeless yet brimming with eerie vitality.

Railways crisscrossed the world like webs. Towering factories loomed on the edges of cities, their chimneys spewing dark smoke into the sky.

Within the mist, the smoke twisted—like beasts roaring in fog.

Lu Yan stood in the void, brows furrowed.

He could clearly feel his Second Heavenly Dao Authority retreating rapidly like a receding tide.

The godlike authority that once let him oversee all creation—was slipping away.

But for a fleeting moment, he and the authority of the Second Heavenly Dao manifested in this version.

Even though it lasted only a fraction of an instant, the imprint was eternal.

On the earth, seven towering cathedrals stood—each at the heart of a great city across different nations.

Each bore its own holy architecture, yet shared an aura: reverence for order, awe for the unknown.

The instant Lu Yan arrived, the seven cathedrals erupted in divine light.

Sacred beams pierced through stained glass and lit up cities shrouded in fog.

Heavenly voices echoed across the land. Believers fell to their knees in prayer.

Saints, demi-gods, and angels stationed at the cathedrals gasped.

They sensed the descent of a presence unlike any before.

“Is there truly a god appearing in this world?”

In an era where gods hid and faith dwindled, such divine majesty was like myth reborn.

Atop a high bell tower, a pope in ornate robes looked to the stars, awe and shock etched on his wrinkled face.

He felt a divine aura far beyond anything he had ever known—a true god.

In the churches, forbidden relics were activated—desperate to trace the source of that godly presence.

Ancient souls stirred in pendulums. Truth-reflecting mirrors glowed. Tarot cards shuffled by unseen hands.

In the end, the high-ranking figures of the Seven Churches, occult schools, and cults received the same answer.

“Fengdu.”

(End of Chapter)