Chapter 023: Another Plane

A flash of white light streaked by, the scene vanished, and in a haze, Shen Duo suddenly felt a warmth igniting in her abdomen. It wasn’t a scorching heat like fire, but a gentle, comforting warmth. Her entire body seemed weightless, and she was puzzled by this transformation, attempting to turn her senses inward. The technique of inner sight was common knowledge among Illusionists, a method passed down by parents even before one became an Illusionist, though in practice it could only be used by those ranked Spiritual Illusionist or above.

With a thought, Shen Duo saw within her dantian a small object glowing with a faint white light, surrounded by wisps of lilac mist. Shifting her perspective closer, she discerned the glowing object’s form—a miniature scroll.

Shen Duo couldn’t fathom why such a thing existed inside her body. Since its appearance was that of a scroll, perhaps it could be opened. She focused her mind, intent on unfurling it.

She acted on little more than a whim, but to her astonishment, a brilliant silver radiance flashed, and the scroll truly opened. Yet, with that dazzling burst, Shen Duo herself vanished from the void.

When she next opened her eyes, she found herself in a bustling marketplace. Surveying her surroundings, she suddenly frowned—this place was Luocheng! But as she reined in her anxiety and forced herself to remain calm, scrutinizing every detail, she realized something was off. A golden flash in her mind brought clarity to what felt wrong.

On the continent of Holy Radiance, Illusionists were everywhere, recognizable by their robes. Yet on the streets of this “Luocheng,” all she saw were swordsmen with greatswords strapped to their backs! Where had things gone awry?

A jolt of alarm struck her—could it be she’d arrived in a town resembling Luocheng, but populated by swordsmen? With doubt swirling in her heart, Shen Duo entered the crowd, seeking to confirm her suspicion.

As she wandered the length of the street, her certainty wavered. The layout was identical to Luocheng—even the distant, towering windmill was the same. How could there be two cities so utterly identical?

Familiar with the place, she entered the Mercenary Guild. The receptionist at the counter was no longer the young woman she remembered. Shen Duo ventured, “Miss, has the Blazing Flame Mercenary Corps succeeded in the task to quell the magical beast horde in the Katra Forest?”

The busy receptionist glanced up in surprise. “You must not be from the mercenary world. There’s never been a magical beast horde in Katra Forest, and our guild has no record of a Blazing Flame Mercenary Corps. There’s only a newly established group—the Flame Mercenary Corps.”

A chill ran through Shen Duo. Impossible! The Blazing Flame Mercenary Corps ranked among the continent’s top ten, renowned throughout the land—how could the guild not have a record? What had gone wrong?

Though inwardly alarmed, Shen Duo betrayed nothing on her face. She offered a polite smile. “Then, may I ask if City Lord Shen has issued any low-level mercenary tasks recently?”

The receptionist regarded her as if she were a curiosity. “You truly aren’t from Luocheng, are you? The city lord’s surname is Li, not Shen. He’s away in Lincheng and hasn’t returned—how could he issue any tasks?” Her words grew impatient.

After thanking the receptionist, Shen Duo left the guild, her face shadowed with confusion. This was clearly Luocheng, and the Katra Forest existed, yet there was no Blazing Flame Mercenary Corps, and Shen Qing was not the city lord.

Unconsciously, Shen Duo found herself standing before the dilapidated hut she called home. Before she could knock, the door swung open from within, and out stepped a white-haired elder. His tattered azure robe hung loosely from his thin frame, crow’s-feet etched deep into his face, and when he smiled, it was like a chrysanthemum blooming—Shen Duo’s face twitched involuntarily.

The old man looked her up and down, a strange flicker passing through the cloudiness of his gaze before it was quickly suppressed.

With no choice, Shen Duo apologized and turned to leave, but the old man called after her in a hoarse voice, “Child, have pity on an old man—could you spare some food?”

Shen Duo had no intention of responding, but she knew the hardships of this hut all too well. Each winter, the broken doors and windows did nothing to keep out the cold; even bundled in quilts, she’d shiver through the night.

On a whim, she turned back, retrieving some rations she’d stored with the Blazing Flame Mercenary Corps from her storage ring and handed them to the old man. “This is all I have left—please, take it.” In her haste, she accidentally pulled out a small package as well.

She gave a helpless smile—this odd little parcel was left by that mysterious stranger; she still had no idea what purpose it served. As she was about to stow the package away, the old man’s eyes lit up, and he nearly dropped his food in excitement. “Child, may I have a look at that little parcel in your hand?”

Shen Duo frowned, unable to read his intentions.

Seeing her hesitation, the old man hurriedly declared, “If you’re worried, I can swear an oath.” He raised his right hand, vowing not to covet anything inside the package. As he spoke, a silvery flash of the Heavenly Pact appeared at his feet.

Shen Duo was amazed—she hadn’t expected the old man to go this far for the contents of the package. Everyone knew the power of the Heavenly Pact; she could hardly refuse now. With a generous gesture, she handed the package over.

The old man clutched it with delight, inviting her inside again and again. Unable to resist his enthusiasm, Shen Duo entered with a stoic face. Seeing the furnishings inside, she gave a wry chuckle—it was identical in every detail to her former dwelling, even down to the hard, back-bruising bed.

The old man sat, leaving Shen Duo to one side, and eagerly unwrapped the parcel, his callused hands trembling. When he saw the softly glowing white stone inside, he nearly cried out in joy. It really was this—unbelievable!

Shen Duo watched him in confusion and couldn’t help but ask, “Sir, what is that thing?”

The old man caressed the stone over and over as if it were a treasure, then looked up in astonishment. “Child, you don’t know what this is?”

She shook her head honestly. She truly didn’t know its purpose.

The old man composed himself, shut the door, and sat down beside her, gazing into her clear eyes with a long sigh. “Child, if you ever meet strangers in the future, never reveal this item lightly. I see your root is of the violet type, but with your current ability, at best you’re a Great Swordsman—only mid-level in a small city like Luocheng. I don’t know how you obtained this, but it’s called Azure Stone, one of the rarest and most coveted materials for artifact forging on the continent—any alchemist would give anything for it.”

His words were weighty, but Shen Duo was lost in a fog—what “violet root,” what “Great Swordsman”? She barely registered his description of the stone.

Looking up at the old man still enraptured by the Azure Stone, she decided to ask the question that had troubled her all this time. “Sir, if you could answer a few of my questions, I’d gladly give you this Azure Stone. What do you say?”

The old man looked up in shock, but his voice was tinged with anger and indignation. He shoved the Azure Stone back into her hands and pushed her toward the door. “I never thought you’d look down on me so—no trust at all! You’d try to buy my answers with the Azure Stone? I misjudged you!”

Shen Duo was at a loss, both amused and exasperated. She only meant to thank him, and besides, the stone was useless to her—she wasn’t an alchemist and didn’t understand its value. Since the old man was so fond of it, she thought to let him have it, not expecting to be rebuffed.

She soothed him, “Sir, it’s my mistake. I won’t say such things again, all right?”

His expression softened. He stopped pushing her out, and returned to his seat. Shen Duo shook her head helplessly and sat down on a chair by the bed, drawing a deep breath before asking, “Sir, why does everyone here carry a longsword?”

The old man looked at her as if she were a curiosity. “What else would a swordsman carry if not a sword?”

Shen Duo’s brows knitted tighter. She hesitated, then pressed on, “And what about Illusionists? Why haven’t I seen any?”

“Illusionists?” The old man laughed heartily. “Child, you must have grown up secluded in the wilds. Illusionists have faded from the Holy Radiance Continent for thousands of years. The four great ancient Illusionist clans have all but vanished. Now, swordsmen are the order of the day—who still cultivates as an Illusionist? Besides, magical beasts are rare, so where would Illusionists get their companions? Without their beasts, their strength is halved—who would bother?”

Shen Duo forced a calm expression, but inwardly her thoughts churned. Illusionists faded, swordsmen ascendant? Had she crossed a millennium via that scroll, arriving in a future era of Holy Radiance? But she quickly rejected the idea—Luocheng a thousand years hence couldn’t possibly be identical in every detail to its past. Too strange! Could it be that at a certain point in history, a divergence led to two separate evolutions of the continent, creating two parallel worlds, each existing independently? Shen Duo struggled to quell her anxious, restless excitement.

She asked the old man about ancient times on the continent, and when his descriptions matched her own world’s history, her suspicions were confirmed.

Both worlds began from the same ancient Holy Radiance Continent, but at a critical turning point, different choices led to the continent splitting into two realms—two planes of existence. Each developed independently for thousands of years: in one, Illusionists reigned supreme; in the other, swordsmen became the strongest. In this world, the ancient Illusionists had been wiped out, the four great clans no longer existed, and it was a more equitable and just society.

Now, by means of the scroll within her body, she had entered this dimension. Did that mean the scroll was a bridge between the two planes, a miraculous artifact akin to a teleportation array?

Suppressing her surging thoughts, Shen Duo asked her final question: “Sir, what does it mean to have a violet root?”

The old man nearly leapt from his seat, eyes wide. “Child, don’t you know? With a violet root, how have you practiced as a swordsman?”

She gave a sheepish smile. “To be honest, sir, I’m not a swordsman.”

The old man looked as if his jaw would drop. She wasn’t a swordsman? With such a rare root, and not cultivating as a swordsman? How could those of lesser roots bear it!

“Then you’re an Illusionist?”

Though rare in this world, Illusionists weren’t extinct—just as swordsmen were rare in the other plane. But Shen Duo shook her head again, embarrassed.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t chosen to become either an Illusionist or a swordsman?”

At this, Shen Duo’s gaze darkened. She had wanted to be an Illusionist, but was unable to gather spiritual energy, condemned as a useless waste. Whenever she faced powerful foes or the pain of hatred, she’d longed for strength, but it was always a hopeless dream. Even after surviving the flames, she was still a failure in channeling spiritual energy.

“I cannot become an Illusionist,” she said quietly, her expression downcast.

But the old man grew excited, clapping her on the shoulder. “Better not to be an Illusionist! No Illusionist on this continent can stand at the pinnacle. Listen to me—cultivate as a swordsman! With your root, becoming a Sword Saint would be a breeze!” His tone was grand, as if Shen Duo had already achieved glory.

Shen Duo was stunned. Sword Saint! In her world, that was the highest rank for a swordsman—she only knew of one, Lord Wei Lan of the Wei family.

Seeing her amazement, the old man began to explain the swordsman’s path.

“To reach the heights as a swordsman, it all depends on your root. Not everyone can become a Sword Saint. The better the root, the higher you can climb. Swordsman roots are ranked green, cyan, blue, and violet. Those with green roots, no matter how hard they try, can only reach Sword Elder. Blue roots, with effort and some luck, might become Sword Saints. But violet roots are the purest, with limitless potential. It’s said that the Sword Emperor of the continent was a violet root.” The old man’s voice was filled with longing.

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The first and second chapters have been thoroughly revised. Dear readers, please take another look! Thank you!