“This is the Gossip Plate?” she asked.
“Yes.” Ulysses clasped his hands behind his back, unmistakably proud.
“How do you even read something like this?”
“That depends on what you wish to divine.”
Lauren considered for a moment. “How do you calculate someone’s fate?”
“That is simple. Place your hands here.”
She hesitated only briefly before stepping forward and laying her palms against the cool surface.
Ulysses reached out and grasped the outermost ring, rotating it halfway before releasing it.
The moment he let go, the inner rings began to spin on their own—each at a different speed.
He pointed as they turned.
“This ring represents the past.”
“This one—the future.”
“This—marriage.”
“Wealth.”
“Fortune.”
Lauren’s face grew increasingly stiff.
Was he… publicly dissecting her entire life?
She didn’t understand a single damn symbol flashing across those rings. But one thing caught her eye.
At the very center was the smallest ring. It emitted a soft white glow. He hadn’t mentioned it.
“What does that ring represent?” she asked.
Ulysses’ smile faded.
“That ring,” he said quietly, “represents the past. The past of a previous life.”
Lauren’s fingers went cold. She pulled her hands away instantly. The rotating rings slowed. The white glow dimmed.
“Lauren,” Ulysses said gently, “you do not need to cling to your previous life. What matters is who you are in this one.”
Her heart pounded.
After a moment, she inclined her head. “You’re right.”
He studied her for a second longer before smiling again. “Do you not wish to see your future destiny?”
She shook her head. “I don’t.”
Ulysses’ brows lifted slightly.
“Destiny isn’t fixed,” she continued calmly. “If it were, why would anyone bother cultivating? Why struggle? Why fight heaven at all?”
For a heartbeat, the room fell silent. Then Ulysses threw his head back and laughed. “Hahaha! Exactly!”
His laughter echoed against the tower walls.
“Destiny is not fixed. And if it is not fixed—what difference does it make whether you see it or not?”
“For example,” Ulysses continued calmly, “imagine a man born into wealth. Everyone tells him he is destined for riches and glory. He hears it so often that he begins to believe it absolutely. He grows complacent. Indulgent. By middle age he has squandered everything, and in old age he begs on the streets.”
He glanced at her.
“Tell me, was that truly a wealthy fate?”
Lauren didn’t answer.
“Cultivators,” he went on, “are those who refuse to accept fate. We defy the heavens. Without defiance, how could anyone ever break the shackles of the Boundary Force?”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“You are favored by heaven, Lauren. As is your master, Drake. Drake has long since met the conditions for ascension, yet he remains here, struggling within this realm. Why?”
Lauren met his eyes.
Behind that faint smile, she caught something else—something heavy. Almost sorrowful.
“So,” Ulysses concluded quietly, “it is better not to look too closely at fate.”
With a wave of his sleeve, the Gossip Plate slowed. The spinning rings gradually stilled.
“Since we don't choose to look at a person’s fate,” he said, “let us instead look at the heavens.”
Lauren’s brows lifted.
Look at the heavens? He actually dared to do that?
Ulysses grasped the outer ring and began to rotate it again—faster this time. Round and round.
The entire structure accelerated. Within seconds, the rings blurred into streaks of light.
Inside her sleeve, Edmund stirred. He wriggled free and crawled halfway out.
Lauren immediately grabbed the back of his head and shoved him down.
“Don’t come out,” she muttered under her breath.
“It’s easier to see if I’m out,” he snapped.
“See what? Wait until he finishes spinning the damn thing.”
“It’s already started,” Edmund said sharply. “You just don’t understand what you’re seeing. Watch his face. If he can’t hold it, go help him.”
Lauren’s attention snapped back to Ulysses.
A moment ago his complexion had been ruddy. Now it was pale. His lips had begun to turn a faint bluish-black.
Edmund shoved her fingers away. “Stop blocking me.”
Lauren released him and rushed forward. “Mr. Ulysses—”
She tried to channel spiritual energy into him— But a violent force exploded outward, hurling her back several steps.
“Lauren,” he said hoarsely without looking at her, “I can handle this. Watch carefully.”
“Are you sure?”
He gave her a thin, bloodless smile. “Yes.”
Lauren clenched her fists and forced herself to stay put.
The Gossip Plate was spinning so fast it had become a sphere of white radiance. She couldn’t make out a single symbol. To her, it was nothing but light.
But Edmund was not ordinary. Even in his current unstable state, his understanding of the Will of Heaven far surpassed hers.
He squinted upward, jaw tightening.
“Hmph.” His voice was laced with fury. “They’re fast.”
Lauren frowned. “Who’s fast? The ones above?”
“Yes,” Edmund said coldly. “They’ve already come down.”
Her heart lurched. Already?
Edmund had once told her that one year in this lower realm equaled a single day above.
It hadn’t even been a year. Which meant less than a day had passed up there— And someone had already descended.
That alone told her how seriously they regarded this small world.
Bang—
The sound shattered her thoughts.
Lauren spun around. Ulysses had collapsed. He lay crumpled on the floor, face drained of all color.
“Mr. Ulysses!” She ran to him and caught his shoulders.
The Gossip Plate, having lost its sustaining force, gradually slowed and returned to its normal, gentle rotation.
“What happened?”
Edmund’s voice was calm—but grim.
“He glimpsed the secrets of heaven and suffered backlash. His cultivation is too low. If your master were here, he wouldn’t be in this pathetic state.”
“This is not the time for commentary,” Lauren snapped. “Fix it. He looks like he’s about to die.”
“If we had Karma Fruit…”
She shot him a look. “That’s helpful. Where the hell am I supposed to find Karma Fruit right now?”
Edmund hesitated. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then, slowly, he climbed down from her shoulder and approached Ulysses.
He placed one small paw against the old man’s brow. Light spread outward from that point—thin strands of pale radiance tracing along Ulysses’ limbs and bones.
Lauren watched in stunned silence as a gray-white miasma seeped out from Ulysses’ body.
Death energy.
After a while, Edmund withdrew his paw.
His form flickered. He looked… thinner. Dimmer.
“Are you alright?” Lauren asked quickly, scooping him up.
“I’m fine,” he said weakly. “Worth it.”
“Worth what?” she demanded. “If you hadn’t intervened, would he have died?”
Edmund closed his eyes briefly. “He’s stable. Move him aside. He’ll wake up soon.”
So yes. He had been on the brink.
Lauren swallowed hard. What in the hell had Ulysses seen to nearly kill him in an instant?
She carefully dragged Ulysses to the side and laid him flat. Then she looked down at Edmund.
His body was almost transparent now.
“Edmund,” she said quietly, “what did you see?”
He barely managed to lift his eyelids. “Take me back to your space first.”
He couldn’t even hold a solid form anymore.
Lauren glanced once more at the unconscious sect leader, then carried Edmund into his inner space.
Once inside, he shifted into his human form and collapsed onto the leather blanket he’d crafted himself—the hide of a beast from the Icefield Secret Realm.
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