Chapter Seventy-Six: Shadows in the Cup

Yin Seventeen ignited his microcosm, gently tapping the silver goblet on the ground. Instantly, a beam of silvery light shot from his fingertip and landed upon the cup.

Immediately, the moonlit nectar hidden within the cup slowly manifested, but only half a cup remained.

The nectar’s luster was subdued, making it look like nothing more than ordinary clear water.

Once he infused it with the power of his microcosm, ripples formed on the surface of the nectar, spreading slowly outward.

At that moment, Ruo Lan, who stood closest to the cup, cried out in surprise.

“There seems to be something in the water!”

She vaguely saw that a strange hue had appeared in the once-clear nectar.

Everyone’s eyes widened as the discoloration on the water’s surface deepened, gradually coalescing into a distinct image.

In the sky, the sun blazed with dazzling brilliance; upon the earth, countless warriors were locked in fierce combat, golden armor stained with blood, corpses strewn across the battlefield.

“Could it be… has a Gold Saint fallen?” Tong Hu’s tone grew somber.

The sun’s radiance was so intense it obscured the scene below. He could only identify, by the golden armor, the figure of a wounded Gold Saint.

But he could not discern further—who this Gold Saint was, nor whether he yet lived.

Hearing the old man’s words, the others felt their hearts grow heavy.

Gold Saints were not easily cultivated. There were only twelve Gold Saints in the entire Sanctuary; the loss of even one was a devastating blow.

More importantly, if even a Gold Saint had reached such dire straits, the peril of the coming battle could be imagined.

“Can you make the image any clearer?” Tong Hu looked at Yin Seventeen with hope.

“I’ll try.”

Yin Seventeen nodded, then increased the power flowing from his microcosm, silently requesting the Crateris Cloth to make the image sharper.

As if understanding his intent, the silver goblet shone with a brilliant light, and the image upon the water grew even clearer.

Yet, as the image sharpened, the sunlight in it became ever more blinding, so much so that the onlookers could not keep their eyes open.

It was as though a miniature sun had fallen into the silver cup.

“What on earth is that thing?” Ruo Lan, covering her eyes, cried out anxiously, trying to observe with her deeper senses beyond the five physical ones.

However, the image reflected by the silver cup was but a visual phenomenon. It did not exist within the water itself; only the eyes could perceive it. When she probed the cup with her inner sense, she found nothing but the moonlit nectar.

At that same moment, by the banks of a distant river, three young women spinning thread noticed an unusual ripple upon the water.

“It seems fate truly binds him to us,” said the woman with the measuring rod, halting her work and smiling as she gazed at the wave.

“Don’t be so fickle, Lachesis,” sighed the woman sitting behind, scissors in hand. With a gentle sweep of her hand over the water’s surface, the river calmed once more.

On Five Elder Peak, the sunlight was blinding, as if a sun had descended there, forcing everyone to shield their eyes.

Suddenly, the light receded, returning to normal, as though all that had just happened was no more than a shared illusion.

“Hey, what happened to the image in the cup? Where did it go?” Ruo Lan exclaimed.

Yin Seventeen said nothing, pouring the power of his microcosm into the cup again, but the scene refused to appear.

“It’s no use,” Tong Hu sighed helplessly. “The Crateris Cloth’s power to reflect the River of Fate is random by nature—it cannot be triggered at will.”

Hearing this, Yin Seventeen could only give up, putting away the silver cup, which transformed into a silver ring that he slipped back onto his finger.

“What a pity. If only the sunlight hadn’t been so blinding, perhaps we could have seen what the image truly was,” Ruo Lan said, disappointment plain on her face.

“Yes, it really is a shame,” Zilong and Chunli echoed, equally crestfallen.

“There’s no point dwelling on this,” Yin Seventeen shook his head gently. “Our priority should be to understand what the image reflected by the Crateris Cloth actually represents.”

“Yes, yes!” Zilong nodded vigorously. “If even the Gold Saints are in such peril, we must find out what this portends!”

“The answer is already quite clear,” Tong Hu said, worry etched across his face as he gazed at the sun in the sky. “The Crateris Cloth doesn’t reflect images without reason.”

“It only responds to external stimuli, showing visions related to them.”

“And just now, as I mentioned that the Sanctuary may soon go to war, the Crateris Cloth immediately showed us that scene.”

“So, what we just saw is the war that is about to befall us?” Yin Seventeen asked, following the old man’s line of thought.

“That’s most likely the case,” Tong Hu replied, sighing deeply. The Holy War had not yet begun, and already there was a sign of a Gold Saint’s fall. This era was destined to be arduous.

Thinking of the unresolved chaos in the Sanctuary, Tong Hu’s sorrow overflowed, and tears streamed down his aged face.

“Master, why are you crying?” Zilong asked anxiously.

“It’s nothing. I am merely saddened by the hardships that lie ahead,” Tong Hu replied, his eyes red.

Though he had survived the last Holy War and witnessed the deaths of countless Saints, including Gold Saints, the thought of the sacrifices to come still wrenched his heart.

Ruo Lan asked cautiously, “Master Tong Hu, since we now know the future will be so difficult, is there anything we can do in advance?”

“What would you suggest?” Tong Hu replied impassively.

“For example, could we change the future?” the girl said, her breath quickening with a hint of excitement.

Tong Hu asked again, “And do you know what the future is?”

“It’s… the time after now, the things that haven’t happened yet!” Ruo Lan answered earnestly.

“Then now, do you understand?” Tong Hu looked deeply at the girl.

“Understand what?” she asked, bewildered.

Zilong and Chunli were just as confused.

“And you?” Tong Hu turned to Yin Seventeen.

Yin Seventeen considered for a moment, then ventured, “Since the future is that which has not yet happened, it is uncertain. And if it is uncertain, there is nothing to change.”

“The idea of changing the future is merely our own wishful thinking.”

“Exactly,” Tong Hu nodded slowly. “What has not occurred cannot be changed.”

“Then what about what we just saw in the Crateris Cloth? What was that?” Ruo Lan pressed, her anxiety growing.

Zilong and Chunli remained perplexed.

“That was only one possible future,” Yin Seventeen sighed softly. “Unlike the past, the future is undetermined, for it hasn’t happened. Thus, it holds countless possibilities.”

“What the Crateris Cloth showed us may just be the most likely among them.”

“Or perhaps, due to its inherent nature, it simply displayed one possibility, without choosing what we would see.”

“Yes, it is but one possibility,” Tong Hu echoed with a sigh.