After Changing to the Ruthless Way, the Brothers Cried and Begged for Forgiveness-Chapter 405: Reincarnation

The Dao Field was a unique space separate from the cultivation world. There were no sun, moon, or stars here, leaving Yu Zhao and the others to estimate the passage of time through calculations alone.
Three days passed. Three meditation mats, awaiting owners who never appeared, silently vanished.
This disappearance marked the fall of three young cultivators before they could even step through the threshold of the Dao Field.
Before the crowd could lament their loss, a force beyond description surged through the space, stealing the breath of everyone present. It was a sensation that filled hearts with dread and awe.
“Year 57,423 of the North Abyss Calendar. The Lesser Thousand Dao Field has reopened.”
The ancient voice reverberated through the silent expanse of the Dao Field.
Yu Zhao’s eyelid twitched. Quietly, she committed the terms “North Abyss Calendar” and “Lesser Thousand Dao Field” to memory.
Golden light rained down from above, coalescing on a raised platform ahead. Slowly, the light condensed into a figure.
Her visage remained obscured by the radiant glow, but from the silhouette of her attire, it was discernible that she was female.
“Today, the technique imparted shall be the Reincarnation Art.”
The figure spoke with no intention of interacting further. With a sweep of her sleeve, everyone’s consciousness was pulled into an entirely different realm.
The vast darkness spread endlessly, dotted with glimmers of light.
Scarlet, icy blue, violet, and orange… countless hues sparkled in an intricate dance, mysterious and breathtaking.
Yu Zhao marveled at the unknown space she now drifted within, her shock beyond words.
A streak of silver light shot past her.
She reached out instinctively, only to discover she lacked physical form. She was but an intangible wisp of consciousness.
Searching for the presence of others proved futile; the stillness around her was profound.
Left without direction, Yu Zhao drifted aimlessly through the boundless void.
She wandered for what felt like an eternity, finding no reason compelling enough to stop.
Time became meaningless until, finally, exhaustion claimed her. At that very moment, a nearly imperceptible speck of dust floated by.
Without hesitation, she attached her consciousness to the speck and began to drift alongside it through the starry expanse.
The universe shimmered with an enigmatic palette.
Occasionally, a sudden force of attraction would hurl the speck—along with Yu Zhao—into the unknown. At other times, immense repulsion would fling it far away.
The speck of dust encountered others, merging gradually to form something tangible, repeating the process over and over.
It grew, and grew, and grew…
Yu Zhao bore witness to its transformation.
At some point, she dozed off, and when she awoke, she was astonished to see the speck had developed into the beginnings of a planet. More astonishingly, faint signs of life pulsed upon its surface.
She was utterly stunned.
Suppressing her lingering drowsiness, she observed life emerge, multiply, and evolve on the planet.
When the first living entity came into being, Yu Zhao finally succumbed to sleep again.
Upon her next awakening, the planet had split into regions, each dominated by different forms of life.
These life forms waged wars over territory, countless perishing, only to be replaced by new generations.
Among them, Yu Zhao noticed a tribe led by women.
Strong, resolute, and wise, this tribe grew to become the most formidable force on the planet.
Drawn to their vigor, Yu Zhao paid them closer attention.
She wondered if their leader could guide them to enduring prosperity.
But calamities descended just as the tribe flourished.
Earthquakes came first, followed by droughts, and then plagues…
Life dwindled at an alarming rate.
The once lush and verdant lands turned barren again.
Watching their desperate cries, prayers, and hopeless attempts to flee stirred an inexplicable feeling within Yu Zhao.
They were strangers to her, yet she could not bear to see them perish in the catastrophe.
She longed to help them.
But she was nothing more than a consciousness.
No body. No power.
Her frustration grew as she watched life after life succumb to the floods.
Eventually, only a handful of survivors remained.
Gathered atop the planet’s tallest peak, they gazed at the vast ocean surrounding them.
Kneeling, they pressed fists to their chests in prayer, their devotion sincere yet pitiful.
The water rose relentlessly, their forms growing smaller and more fragile.
Yet their prayers never ceased. Faint murmurs drifted to Yu Zhao’s ears on the wind.
A surge of energy suddenly welled up within her. Without pondering its origin, she directed a fragment of her consciousness onto a massive leaf, steering it toward the survivors.
As the floodwaters engulfed them, the enormous leaf surfaced, bearing them safely above the waves.
No storm could capsize it; no rock could tear through its surface.
The survivors clung to the leaf until the floodwaters receded. Once again, they stood upon solid ground, kissing the earth beneath their feet.
With her strength spent, Yu Zhao slipped back into slumber.
This time, she slept for a thousand years.
When she awakened, the tribes were gone, replaced by nations.
A silent observer once more, she bore witness to the rise and fall of kingdoms.
Eventually, a powerful nation named after the leaf unified the others, bringing peace after years of strife.
Yet the peace was fleeting. By the reign of the fifth generation, internal collapse reignited chaos.
Yu Zhao never saw who emerged victorious.
She had fallen asleep again.
Her slumber deepened, her fatigue growing heavier.
A vague premonition whispered to her.
When she awoke, it would all be over.
Indeed, when her consciousness resurfaced, the once-thriving lands had become barren wastelands.
During her sleep, the planet had expanded, its internal activity growing violent. Temperatures soared beyond the limits of survival.
In the final moments before Yu Zhao woke, the last living being on the planet perished.
The planet itself began to crumble.
Roars reverberated as its core imploded.
Under the massive force, it fractured into countless fragments, rapidly disintegrating into dust that scattered across the cosmos.
The process was swift yet painfully slow.
Yu Zhao’s consciousness wavered, her thoughts fleeting and unclear.
Until a tiny speck of dust drifted before her once more.
By instinct, she attached herself to it, resuming her journey through the stars.
Time flowed oddly—both sluggish and swift.
One day, Yu Zhao broke free from her daze.
Her spirit burned with unprecedented clarity.
She understood.
Reincarnation.
From death to life. From life to death.
An endless cycle, ceaseless and eternal.
This was reincarnation.
Boom!
The starry sky quaked.
The heavens shattered.
A powerful force sucked Yu Zhao out instantly.
When she opened her eyes again, she was back in the Dao Field.
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation