Chapter Seventeen: Farewell, Elder

Three days passed in the blink of an eye, and Yin Seventeen arrived at the place where he had once parted ways with Owen.

No matter what, he had to come and see. After all, Senior Owen was the person he knew best in this training camp. In a sense, Owen was half his teacher.

Owen sat cross-legged on an open patch of ground, eyes tightly shut, unmoving as if he were a statue. If not for Yin Seventeen’s sixth sense still detecting his life force, he would have thought Owen was already dead.

A few steps away stood five or six apprentice fighters—Owen’s old friends. Yin Seventeen wasn’t familiar with them, not even their names. He only knew they had been acquainted for many years.

“You all arrived early, seniors,” he greeted politely.

“Mm,” they responded with indifference, barely glancing at him before turning their attention back to Owen. They recognized the newcomer Owen had guided but hadn’t interacted much. Everyone was usually engrossed in arduous training, with little energy left to care about anything else.

Seeing they weren’t inclined to talk, Yin Seventeen didn’t force himself into their circle. He quietly found a spot and stood, silently observing the scene.

Releasing his root-realm sense, he could clearly “see” Owen unleashing the power of his sixth sense, gathering an aura within himself, which expanded outward, growing ever stronger.

Time passed—perhaps half an hour, an hour, maybe two, or even longer—so long that Yin Seventeen forgot how much had gone by.

He “saw” the aura within Owen cease accumulating, like an inflated balloon on the verge of bursting. Without a doubt, Senior Owen was preparing for the next step: igniting his microcosm.

The so-called ignition of the microcosm was, in essence, guiding the power of one’s microcosm for personal use. It was known that everyone had a microcosm within their body, but it was uncontrolled and unusable. This uncontrolled state was stable; the microcosm existed peacefully within each person, posing no threat to their life.

Yet, once the power of the microcosm was ignited, this balance would inevitably be broken.

No matter how small a microcosm, it was still a universe, possessing boundless might. Human life was insignificant as dust before such cosmic power. Once balance was shattered, the body bearing the microcosm would be assaulted by that cosmic force.

At this moment, the fruits of one’s sixth sense cultivation were put to the test.

Perfectly controlling every ounce of power drawn from the microcosm signified success, and entry into the extraordinary realm.

Conversely, failure meant leaving one's fate to chance.

The other apprentice fighters, sensing Owen’s state, held their breath, focusing their sixth sense to observe. They, too, aspired to ignite their own microcosms; watching others’ attempts was beneficial.

“Hah—”

Owen suddenly opened his eyes, uttered a low cry, and injected his root-realm sense into the microcosm, trying to draw its power.

In an instant, a terrifying surge of energy radiated from Owen’s body.

On the steps of Taurus Palace, Aldebaran gazed toward the foot of the sacred mountain, in the direction the surge had emanated. “Another junior has departed? What a pity!” he sighed helplessly.

This was the thirty-fifth surge he had sensed this month.

On the other side, Yin Seventeen seemed to “see” stars exploding, the universe collapsing.

Just as he wanted to observe more closely, he discovered the microcosm within Owen had vanished. As if everything he’d just witnessed was nothing more than an illusion.

“As expected, controlling the power of the microcosm isn’t so easy,” Owen sighed helplessly.

“In truth, you’d already anticipated this outcome, hadn’t you?” a nearby apprentice fighter said softly, his face marked with sorrow.

“Knowing changes nothing. If it were you, wouldn’t you have made the same choice?” Owen replied carelessly.

Silence fell among them.

Owen then turned his gaze to Yin Seventeen and smiled. “Farewell, my beloved junior!”

“May Lady Athena bless you and help you ignite your microcosm!”

“Senior, you…” Yin Seventeen was about to speak when he saw Owen’s body dissolve into starlit motes, drifting away on the wind.

Instinctively, he rushed forward, trying to catch the lights, but they passed through his palm, untouchable.

“How could this be?”

Watching the fading lights, Yin Seventeen was struck by fear and grief.

“This is the most common fate for those who fail, newcomer,” a gaunt apprentice fighter nearby explained slowly. “The power of the microcosm can easily destroy everything.”

“Once it spins out of control, even survival becomes a luxury.”

“Most will be erased by the power of the microcosm, leaving not a single trace behind.”

“Even if someone survives by chance, they are utterly ruined.”

“Mastering the microcosm’s power isn’t as simple as you imagine. Train hard, newcomer!”

With a sigh, he turned and left. The others followed in silence.

Mourning and tears were meaningless. They had seen such cases countless times in the camp, numb to it all. Better to spend time training than waste it here; every bit stronger meant a greater chance of success.

Yin Seventeen sat in a daze until dusk, then slowly rose.

He looked at the spot where Owen had once sat, emotions tangled. “The power of the microcosm was never meant for ordinary souls. From the start, I knew this would be Senior’s fate.”

Risk and reward are always proportional.

Especially when striving for such extraordinary power, the risks grow unimaginably vast.

Any hint of wishful thinking could mark the beginning of failure.

It was only because Owen was so close to him that he had hoped for a miracle.

Sadly, fortune did not favor this kind-hearted senior.

“Thank you, Senior.”

“Your death has made everything clear to me.”

“I will not halt my progress, nor will I shrink back; I will train harder, until I successfully ignite my microcosm!”

Even death cannot bar his path forward.

He would never return to a mundane, ordinary life; his resolve to step into the extraordinary grew ever firmer.

Thus, Yin Seventeen fully accepted the reality of Owen’s passing.

“Farewell, Senior!”

With a final goodbye, he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

At the same time, on a distant hill, a shadow quietly melted into the night.