SSS-Rank 10x Reward System: Accepting Disciples to Live Forever-Chapter 211: Forgetting

Wang Chen and his group worked without pause.

Day blurred into night. Night dissolved into another day.

Blisters hardened into calluses. Muscles that once screamed in protest gradually adapted to the rhythm of labor. The scent of salt, sweat, and freshly cut timber permanently clung to the air around the shore.

Without anyone noticing, an entire month passed.

The once dense forest beside the beach had nearly vanished. Where towering trunks once stood shoulder to shoulder, now only open stretches of sand and scattered stumps remained. A handful of trees still stood upright at the forest’s edge, their branches swaying calmly in the wind.

Strangely, no cultivator approached them.

Perhaps they were lucky.

Or perhaps something about them made even immortals hesitate.

By the end of that month, four ships stood assembled along the shoreline.

The first belonged to the Ancient Winged Race. Its design was elegant and streamlined, its curved hull reinforced with carefully interlocked beams. Their unity was reflected even in the structure itself.

The second ship belonged to Wang Chen’s group—a sturdy, two-storied wooden creation that looked less like a vessel and more like a floating fortress. Its ribs were thick, its deck broad, every plank fitted with deliberate precision under the All-Seeing Immortal’s constant revisions.

The third and fourth ships stood not far away, constructed by groups Wang Chen did not recognize. Their designs were different—one lean and narrow, the other heavy and square—but both radiated quiet confidence.

On the morning of departure, the sea wind was stronger than usual.

The Ancient Winged Race moved first.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone present, they pushed their ship forward. Logs rolled beneath it, creaking and grinding against sand. With a final coordinated shove, the vessel slid down the incline and entered the sea.

For a moment, it rocked violently against the waves.

Then it stabilized.

And began to move.

A faint tension passed through the crowd.

The All-Seeing Immortal’s face turned slightly pale.

It was subtle, but Wang Chen caught it.

It was the look of someone who hated being second.

As if something invaluable had been taken from him.

Without a word, the All-Seeing Immortal’s movements accelerated. Orders were issued more sharply. Final adjustments were made at twice the previous pace.

Under this renewed urgency, Wang Chen’s group launched their ship shortly after.

Wood groaned as it slid into the water.

Cold waves crashed against the hull.

For a heartbeat, the massive structure swayed, unstable—

Then it steadied.

Behind them, one of the remaining ships began its launch, not far behind.

Soon, four vessels sailed across the endless sea.

Wang Chen stood at the bow, wind tugging at his torn robes, strands of hair brushing across his face. The ocean stretched endlessly before him, its surface shifting between deep blue and silver under the light.

Behind them, two ships followed.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

He could not identify the groups commanding those vessels.

Their faces were unfamiliar.

Their auras indistinct without cultivation to sense.

No matter how he thought about it, he could not place them.

After a while, he stopped trying.

There was no point.

Turning slightly, he looked toward Mo Huyan.

Her phantom form stood lightly upon the deck, untouched by wind or motion.

"What now?" he asked.

The question carried no impatience, only sincerity.

They had built the ship. They had launched. They were sailing.

Normally, this would mean waiting for the end of the voyage.

But he knew better.

Mo Huyan had hinted before—this trial was never that simple.

She seemed lost in thought, gaze drifting across the ocean’s horizon. At his words, she focused back on him, a faint, almost plain smile touching her lips.

She shook her head.

"There is no point in telling you everything," she said calmly. "Knowing too much might even disadvantage you."

Her eyes lingered on him.

"So don’t ask too many questions. Focus on ’cleaning.’"

Wang Chen studied her expression briefly, then nodded.

Her words made sense.

He had been growing slightly impatient.

The sea stretched endlessly before them.

Days passed.

Weeks.

Months.

The ship cut through the water steadily, its hull groaning occasionally as massive waves collided against it. Spray rose and fell like shattered glass in the wind.

And yet—

The scenery barely changed.

The sky remained the same shade of blue.

The horizon remained an unbroken line.

The ocean roared in repetition.

It felt as if they were trapped inside a painting—one brushstroke of sea and sky copied endlessly in every direction.

Wang Chen closed his eyes.

He focused inward.

Refining his mental state.

Stripping away restlessness.

Letting thoughts rise and fall like waves.

Before he realized it—

One year had passed.

The ship continued forward.

The ocean remained endless.

Wang Chen only opened his eyes when he felt someone staring at him.

The ocean wind brushed past his face as his vision cleared. Demon Queen Zi Han stood not far from him, her long hair swaying gently, her white robes fluttering against the endless blue backdrop.

In this past year, nothing about her appearance had changed.

She was as beautiful as ever.

Refined.

Graceful.

Her presence still carried that natural elegance.

Wang Chen offered a polite smile.

"Good day, Fellow Daoist Wang..."

The moment he heard her voice, his expression froze for the briefest second.

There was something in her tone.

An unusual warmth.

Not calculated politeness.

Not diplomatic courtesy.

It was... soft.

Almost intimate.

That warmth had never been there before.

Wang Chen suppressed the faint ripple in his heart and responded normally. His hands moved almost on instinct, retrieving cups and tea leaves, heating water carefully over a small controlled flame.

His movements were steady.

Measured.

He made sure not to reveal too much of his internal thoughts. If he probed too obviously, he might expose his own vigilance, and that in itself would raise questions.

As the conversation progressed, his expression subtly shifted.

Demon Queen Zi Han spoke lightly.

She laughed more easily.

Her words were no longer layered with authority or dominance.

Gone was the air of a world-shaking Demon Queen.

In her place sat someone who felt almost like a carefree neighborhood girl, chatting idly about waves, wind, and the monotony of the sea.

The contrast was jarring.

Three hours passed.

When she finally rose to leave, there was a satisfied smile on her face—unburdened, almost peaceful.

Wang Chen watched her retreating figure.

The chill in his chest deepened.

Something was wrong.

Before he could dwell too long on it, another presence approached.

He turned.

The All-Seeing Immortal walked toward him with a solemn smile, hands folded behind his back.

It was clear he had been paying attention.

"You noticed as well, didn’t you, Fellow Daoist Wang?"

His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp.

"She is slowly returning to her roots. Forgetting why she came here in the first place."

Wang Chen nodded lightly, maintaining composure.

Internally, however, he was shaken.

He had sensed something off, yes.

But he had not identified it so clearly.

Returning to her roots.

For a moment, he recalled Mo Huyan’s earlier words.

Eternal beings.

Freedom.

No tyranny.

No cultivation.

No struggle.

Was the Dream slowly dissolving their ambitions?

He met the All-Seeing Immortal’s gaze.

"Remain cautious," Wang Chen said evenly. "The Domain of the Eternal Dream Dragon is filled with mysticism. You might lose yourself without even realizing it."

The All-Seeing Immortal looked startled for a brief second.

Then he nodded.

"Indeed."

As he walked away, Wang Chen’s mind turned.

Among everyone present, most were Immortal Realm cultivators.

Demon Queen Zi Han was the weakest among the core figures.

If the Dream targeted conviction...

Then it made sense she would be the first to waver.

Wang Chen’s gaze drifted toward Murong Shichen.

The young swordsman stood alone near the stern of the ship, practicing sword forms in silence.

Each strike was precise.

Each breath measured.

There was no impatience in him.

No visible emotional shift.

With every movement, his eyes seemed clearer, not duller.

Clearly, something was amiss.

Wang Chen decided to stop meditating.

Instead, he observed.

He watched the conversations.

The laughter.

The gradual softening of ambitions.

Time flowed like water.

Another year passed.

Then three.

Then five.

Before he realized it, more than ten years had slipped by.

The four ships, once separated by cautious distance, slowly drifted closer together.

Occasionally, cultivators crossed from one ship to another.

Discussions turned into friendships.

Friendships turned into familiarity.

The ocean remained unchanged.

The horizon endless.

And slowly, subtly, Wang Chen realized something unsettling.

The cultivators no longer spoke of the Realm World.

No one mentioned ascension.

No one discussed treasures.

No one spoke of inheritance.

For them, the only world that seemed to exist now was these four ships...

And the ocean surrounding them.