Martial Universe - Chapter 1296: Devil Emperor Hand

Qi Condensation. Foundation Establishment. Core Formation. In the current world, only these three realms are known to be achievable. Nascent Soul is but a legend and the realms above it lost to the the long river of time. The modern era is known as Cultivation Civilization, a balance of power and civility, excess and moderation. While cultivation remains a secret practice, it has long since exposed itself to the mundane world, quietly intertwined with each facet of society. While the world appears to be at peace, what lies underneath is a conflict between human, cultivator, and demon, brewing for ages and waiting to implode. Yet in the wake of humanity’s rapid industrialization, qi—and consequently cultivation—is dying.

Gu Mingxi and Pang Qian were next-door neighbors, classmates, and deskmates. From year-to-year, even when the class seating was rearranged, they would still be deskmates. They grew up together like a pair of brother and sisters despite having different parents; if it was someone else, then their parents would probably have already arranged their wedding. However, Gu Mingxi was different.

The night before we obtained our marriage certificate, I asked him, “When did you start to develop feelings for me?”

He answered, “I don’t remember.”

“But, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I’m very petty, and I get jealous very easily.”

“So am I.”

“I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you.”

“So am I.”

“I haven’t really dated, so I don’t know what love is.”

“I don’t know either.”

He held my hand gently, “But I know this. When I think about spending the rest of my life with you, I feel that my future is filled with hope.”

At 16, we used the same class desk, with less than 10cm between our arms. My peripheral vision was full of him.

At 26, I woke up in the morning, and saw the sunlight softly shining on his face. I thought, this is how I want to grow old – gradually, together, with him.

I guess this must be love.

Markus spent his life piecing together fragments of his past life on Earth, flickers of faces, half-remembered streets, the ghost of a world that no longer existed.Slowly, gradually, he’d finally found his footing in this new world of monstrous beings. He felt grounded, as if his fractured memories could finally settle into something resembling a family.But it all went downhill from there.A lingering touch, a promise, an obsession. As if fate itself was playing a cruel joke, his life begins to spiral down. Gradually tumbling down like a crescendo of madness, dragging him deeper into something inescapable.Every attempt to claw his way back only pulls him further down, like a bottomless pit with no end in sight.How much can a person endure before they break? And when they do, can they ever truly piece themselves back together?