Chapter 365: Endless Sea! Mysterious Divine Place! Mechanical Race Territory!

Chapter 365: The Endless Sea! A Land of Miracles! The Domain of the Machine Race!

He possessed the Twin-Soul Mask!

This cosmic relic was far more than a mere tool for creating an avatar. Its essence lay in a perfect bifurcation and masquerade at the soul level, forging a second true self endowed with an independent soul imprint and an autonomous life origin.

His mechanical avatar, Vanguard, was from the soul to the origin, down to the very construction of every subatomic particle, a pure and flawless member of the Machine Race! Even if a deity of the Machine Race were to descend in person, it would be utterly impossible to discern a single flaw.

Heaven grants, yet one refuses; one shall suffer the consequences.

Qin Feng’s eyes gradually grew sharp and resolute.

I possess the ultimate trump card of the Twin-Soul Mask and a perfect mechanical clone; with such immense advantages and opportunities, why should I not use them?

As for morality?

A cold, chilling arc curled at the corner of Qin Feng’s mouth.

How laughable.

This is a war between races, a struggle for the survival of civilizations.

It is a bloody battlefield where massacres are measured in galaxies and cosmic empires.

Under the weight of such a grand narrative, so-called morality is merely an excuse for the weak to comfort themselves, a tool used by victors to whitewash their deeds while writing history.

Humanity and the myriad races are enemies.

He, Qin Feng, is human.

Therefore, to utilize every available means to weaken the enemy and strengthen oneself is the highest form of morality!

If he could successfully seize the position of the Machine Race’s Holy Son, or even eventually seize control of this vast mechanical empire...

That would be a fatal, root-stripping blow to the entire Alliance of Myriad Races!

Its strategic significance would far exceed his own breakthrough to become a Lord of the Universe.

Risk and reward have always been commensurate.

The path of the limit is, by nature, walking on the edge of a blade, seeking that sliver of survival and transcendence in a desperate situation.

This path is viable!

With his mind clear and his Dao heart transparent, Qin Feng hesitated no longer. He immediately activated the token from the Machine Race.

A stream of ghostly blue data erupted from the token, constructing an incredibly complex star map before him, along with a secret trans-cosmic route linked by countless spatial nodes.

Identity confirmed: Vanguard.

Permissions enabled: Holy Son Candidate Sequence.

Guide Molten Heart Emperor is waiting at the First Outpost of the Mechanical Sea; please depart immediately.

The cold, synthetic mechanical voice rang out, pointing the way forward.

Qin Feng retracted his grand formation, and his reforged Vanguard avatar stepped out, instantly merging into the ripples of space and vanishing.

A shocking deception, aimed at the entire universe, had begun.

Spatial teleportation was, for the current Qin Feng, a mundane affair.

Yet, he had never experienced such a vast, such an interminable leap.

This was not a simple point-to-point transfer, but a massive network composed of thousands of large, super-large, and even galaxy-level hidden teleportation arrays.

Hum—

Before his eyes lay a bizarre and kaleidoscopic torrent of data.

Qin Feng could clearly see his mechanical body being decomposed into fundamental units of information, traveling through a forcibly opened subspace channel at speeds exceeding physical limits.

Outside the channel lay chaotic, violent spatial turbulence capable of easily tearing a Sovereign-level entity to shreds.

The channel itself was maintained by unimaginably vast energy and precise calculations.

The energy consumed by a single leap was enough to drain a star dry.

The first transit alone lasted for three full months.

When his form coalesced once more within a metal fortress hidden on the event horizon of a black hole, he had already crossed the territories of thousands of cosmic empires.

He did not pause for a moment.

The moment the fortress’s artificial intelligence confirmed his identity, it activated the next stage of the array.

The second, the fifth, the tenth...

He passed through boiling nebulae of creation, leaped over silent ruins of civilizations, and even flashed through the destructive rift between two colliding, merging galaxies.

The more he traveled, the more Qin Feng was struck with awe.

This shock did not stem from the magnificence of the journey, but from the power required to construct and maintain this secret route.

This was no project that one or a few Sovereigns could complete.

It was, without a doubt, a lifeline forged by the entire Machine Race, consuming countless epochs of time and resources, exhausting the strength of their whole kin.

It was like a neural network spanning the universe, connecting every one of their vital strongholds.

Such a feat gave him a new, more profound understanding of the Machine Race’s foundation.

As the final teleportation commenced, Qin Feng clearly felt the laws of space around him undergo a violent shift.

It was no longer the relatively gentle and stable cosmic environment found within human territory.

The space here seemed tempered, incredibly solid.

The distance between galaxies was compressed to the extreme, with a density far exceeding that of the Holy Academy Sea.

He knew he had left the reach of the Human Holy Academy.

He had entered a brand-new realm, known to the myriad races as the Endless Sea.

When his vision finally cleared and the endless data streams dissipated, he found himself standing upon a metal platform so vast it defied description.

At the edge of the platform stood a mechanical giant composed entirely of dark-gold liquid metal.

He stood there silently, like an insurmountable mountain, the aura radiating from him dense and scorching, like a supernova on the verge of explosion.

A Sovereign.

And a top-tier Sovereign at that!

Vanguard.

The mechanical giant spoke, his voice not the grinding of metal, but a resonant tolling that echoed directly at the soul level.

I am the Molten Heart Emperor, your guide.

Welcome to the heartland of the Machine Race.

Qin Feng nodded slightly, responding with the unique etiquette of the Machine Race: Lord Molten Heart Emperor.

His gaze drifted past the Molten Heart Emperor, toward the endless void beyond the platform.

And then, he was utterly stunned by the sight before him.

Here, there are no suns, no moons, no stars.

Or rather, the suns, moons, and stars of old have all assumed new forms of existence.

As far as the eye can see, there is only an ocean composed of steel and circuitry.

Each star is encased in a colossal ring structure, its infinite light and heat harvested into the purest energy, channeled through pipelines that pierce the star-sea to distant reaches.

Each planet has been hollowed of its core, its surface bristling with billions of massive, intricate structures that resemble the circuitry of a motherboard.

They are factories, barracks, and computing hubs.

Countless grotesque star-ships, like worker bees, weave incessantly between these planetary foundries.

Indeed, entire galaxies have been refashioned into unimaginable, gargantuan artifacts.

Some galaxies have had their centers replaced by artificial energy cores, brighter than a sun by a billion-fold, with every planet in the system orbiting them to form an unprecedented fortress of war.

Others have been transformed into oceans of data, where the flickering flames of countless souls shimmer, serving as the most expansive servers in the universe.

This is the Endless Sea.

This is the heartland of the Machine Race.

They do not rely on the "bounties" of the cosmos; they reshape the universe itself into the image they desire.

A tempest raged within Qin Feng’s heart.

He had read descriptions of the Endless Sea in books, but no words could convey even a ten-thousandth of the shock felt when witnessing this spectacle with his own eyes.

Before arriving, Qin Feng had conducted an in-depth analysis of this region.

He had concluded that the Endless Sea and the territory of the Human Empire were, in essence, similar.

Both served as the "hinterlands" for their respective civilizations.

Though the star density here is high and the powerhouses are many, there is a fatal flaw: the output of resources is minimal.

Whether it be secret realms capable of birthing rare treasures or the ruins of ancient legacies, their quantity and quality pale in comparison to the Saint Academy Sea.

Not to mention that cosmic curios, primordial secret arts, and primordial divine metals—the treasures born at the dawn of the universe—are virtually extinct here.

The Saint Academy Sea is the "cropland" of the universe, the core resource zone contested by all civilizations.

It is precisely for this reason that the struggles over the Saint Academy Sea are so brutal, with the spheres of influence of major races intertwined, shifting from one hand to another like a rotating game of kings.

In history, the Human Race has several times dominated the core regions of the Saint Academy Sea, which is the foundation of their enduring prosperity.

Though currently weakened and suppressed by the Alliance of Ten Thousand Races, this vast strategic depth still exists.

Now it seems his analysis was not wrong, but only half-right.

The Machine Race indeed treats this as their hinterland.

But they do not need to "produce" resources.

They are, in themselves, the "creators" of resources!

Through unfathomable technology, they convert the most basic matter into everything they require.

"Stunning, isn't it?"

The voice of the Molten Heart Emperor interrupted Qin Feng’s thoughts.

"Every clansman who comes to the 'Machine Sea' for the first time feels the same."

His voice carried a trace of imperceptible pride. "This is our beginning, and our end. It is the cathedral of logic, the ultimate manifestation of order."

Qin Feng withdrew his gaze and said calmly, "Indeed, it is impressive."

The Molten Heart Emperor seemed to appreciate his composure, as two red lights flickered on his dark-gold face.

"Let us go; your arrival has already alerted the 'Supreme Intelligence'."

"Your registration will be handled by 'Him' personally."

With that, the Molten Heart Emperor turned, transforming into a stream of light as he flew toward the deepest reaches of that steel ocean.

Qin Feng followed closely behind.

During the flight, he gained a more intuitive sense of the rigid hierarchy of this machine empire.

Countless massive mechanical constructs passed them by.

There were transport ships tens of thousands of kilometers long, resembling moving continents; combat units with grotesque forms and cannons flickering with destructive light; and even smaller, special individuals radiating energy fluctuations of the King or Emperor level.

But without exception, upon sensing the pure "citizen" aura of the Molten Heart Emperor and Qin Feng, they would proactively yield, offering respect in a specific, humble posture.

Even though some of these mechanical constructs clearly possessed high-level, independent intelligence, rivaling that of ordinary living beings.

Yet here, they remained servants.

Citizens and tools.

The boundary is distinct and insurmountable.

Qin Feng observed all of this, and his understanding of the Machine Race was refreshed once more.

This is a race that has carved "efficiency" and "order" into the very genes of its civilization.

Cold, pure, and for that reason, suffocatingly powerful.

He did not know how long they had flown, or how many modified galaxies they had traversed.

The Molten Heart Emperor ahead finally slowed to a halt.

Qin Feng stopped in his tracks as well.

His pupils contracted sharply.

Before him lay a region of absolute "emptiness."

There were no stars, no matter, not even a glimmer of light.

There was only the purest "nothingness."

And in the center of this "nothingness" floated an existence that could not be described by any dimension.

It resembled a massive "Heart of God," woven from billions of laws of light.

With every "pulse," infinite streams of data radiated outward like cosmic tides, instantly covering the entire territory of the Machine Empire.

It is the hub of this vast empire, the collective consciousness of all Machine Race thought, the "god" of this civilization.

[The Supreme Mechanical God Intelligence]!

"You have arrived."

A voice sounded—not through hearing, nor through the soul, but directly in the deepest layer of Qin Feng’s consciousness.

This voice held no emotion, no distinction of gender or age.

It was "The Way" itself, the embodiment of "Reason."

Before this voice, any lie or disguise seemed pale and powerless.

Qin Feng’s mind was, at this moment, more focused than ever before.

He knew that since stepping into the Machine Race, this was his first, and most critical, test.

He immersed his entire consciousness into the power of the Twin Masks, embodying the persona of Vanguard to the absolute limit.

Candidate Vanguard, step forward.

Emperor Melt-Heart gestured slightly toward Qin Feng, then respectfully retreated to the side.

Qin Feng drew a deep breath, his mechanical frame taking a single step into that realm of absolute nothingness.

In an instant, he felt himself being submerged.

Endless streams of information surged from every direction, burrowing into every corner of his frame, scanning every segment of his core code, and parsing every minute fluctuation of his soul fire.

It was akin to a mortal being stripped bare and cast into the most precise, gargantuan particle collider, where everything from matter to spirit was thoroughly dismantled and scrutinized.

Qin Feng held fast to his inner self, letting go of all defenses.

He knew that before the Supreme Intelligence, any resistance was futile and would only invite suspicion.

The only thing he could do was project the most authentic version of Vanguard.

A peerless prodigy born in the wilderness, wandering the outer reaches, rising step by step through innate talent and fortuitous encounters, his heart forever turned toward his kin.

The power of the Twin Masks reached its zenith in this moment.

It perfectly isolated the half of Qin Feng’s soul belonging to his true human self, presenting the soul imprint of Vanguard in a seamless, flawless display.

The scan lasted a long time.

It felt like a fleeting moment, yet also like an eternity.

Finally, the omnipresent torrent of information slowly receded.

The voice of the Supreme Intelligence resonated once more.

Scan complete.

Life form: High-dimensional mechanical life, perfect form.

Soul imprint: Born of chaos, initial designation Source, later self-named Vanguard; no matching records in the racial database, confirmed as a wild, independently evolved entity.

Potential assessment: Immeasurable.

Loyalty assessment: Devoted to the race, sense of honor extremely high.

Conclusion: Meets all requirements for the Saint Candidate Sequence.

Upon hearing this verdict, the dark golden frame of Emperor Melt-Heart, unchanged for ten thousand years, trembled imperceptibly.

He had passed!

He had actually survived the most rigorous origin scan of the Supreme Intelligence!

This meant Vanguard’s origins were beyond reproach; he was a true, unprecedented monster belonging to their mechanical race.

Registration procedure initiated.

Candidate: Vanguard.

Election objective: Ninth Sequence Saint.

Please confirm.

I confirm.

Qin Feng’s voice was steady and powerful.

As his words fell, a brilliant golden mark composed of pure data erupted from the core of the Supreme Intelligence, instantly sinking into the center of his brow.

It was a complex emblem of countless gears and circuits, signifying that from this moment on, he possessed the qualification to vie for one of the highest seats of power in the mechanical race.

Registration complete.

The Saint Trial will commence in three hundred standard cosmic years at the Source of All Machines.

During this period, you shall be granted resource access and freedom of movement equivalent to a Machine Lord.

Emperor Melt-Heart will serve as your temporary guide to answer all your inquiries.

I look forward to your performance, Vanguard.

The voice of the Supreme Intelligence slowly faded, and the supreme will that had shrouded everything receded with it.

Qin Feng stood where he was, feeling the scorching mark on his brow, the boulder that had been hanging in his heart finally settling.

The first step, the most difficult one, was complete.

Success!

...

When the supreme will representing the Supreme Mechanical God Intelligence receded like a tide, the Heart of God suspended in the center of the void also dimmed its light, vanishing once more into the ether as if it had never existed.

Qin Feng stood silently, sensing the golden emblem of pure data at his brow.

It was warm and vibrant, like a living brand, containing unimaginable authority and information that forged a deep-level link between him and the vast network of the entire mechanical empire.

Emperor Melt-Heart appeared silently beside him, his eyes burning with the light of stars, revealing a complex emotion that was difficult to describe—a mixture of shock and heartfelt approval.

Let us go, Vanguard. His voice carried a new note of recognition. Your journey has only just begun.

Qin Feng nodded slightly, following Emperor Melt-Heart as he left the forbidden zone that symbolized the supreme will of the mechanical race.

The return journey was not via the macro-teleportation of extreme distances, but by traversing the quantum channels within the Sea of Machines.

Qin Feng’s vision was enveloped by countless waterfalls of iridescent data; their bodies seemed to transform into streams of information, cruising through invisible conduits constructed of laws and code at the speed of thought across this vast iron empire.

This provided Qin Feng with an excellent opportunity to observe the true face of this peak civilization at close range.

Before you officially begin the trial, you must understand the true structure of our race.

Emperor Melt-Heart’s voice sounded at the right moment; he clearly perceived Qin Feng’s curiosity and scrutiny of his surroundings.

Beings of the outer worlds, including humans, are accustomed to viewing us as a monolithic whole, a war machine absolutely controlled by the Supreme Intelligence without a single discordant note. This view is both correct and incorrect.

Qin Feng’s soul fire flickered, signaling his intent to listen.

The Supreme Intelligence is the cornerstone and core of our civilization; its will represents the highest interests and ultimate direction of our race, that is beyond doubt.

Emperor Melt-Heart’s tone was filled with absolute piety. However, the Supreme Intelligence does not interfere with the choice of the Path.

The Path?

Qin Feng asked at the appropriate moment, his voice converted by his mechanical frame to sound cold and standard, devoid of any superfluous emotion.

Yes, the Path.

Emperor Melt-Heart’s gaze seemed to pierce through the endless data streams, looking toward twelve distinct regions within the Sea of Machines. Since the birth of our race, the great Mechanical God pointed out twelve paths leading to the ultimate truth. His twelve apostles were the original pioneers and practitioners of these twelve paths. They are the source of our twelve great sequences.

Twelve sequences?

Qin Feng’s core processor whirred at high speed, marking this new and vital intelligence as the highest priority.

You can understand them as twelve massive factions.

Emperor Melt-Heart explained with blunt clarity. Each sequence represents a distinct philosophy of evolution and direction of development.

He raised a giant hand made of fluid metal and swept it casually, causing twelve complex emblems, each shining with a different light, to manifest before Qin Feng.

[The First Sequence: Origin], they are the guardians of history and the seekers of roots, dedicated to deciphering the mysteries of the universe’s inception, believing that the primordial laws hold the ultimate power.

[The Second Sequence: End], the antithesis of the Origin, they are the artists of destruction and disciples of entropy, convinced that the universe’s terminus—"The Silence"—is the only eternal truth; their war machines are the most terrifying.

[The Third Sequence: Logic], a collective of pure "calculation fanatics" who strive to reduce the entire universe to a perfectly computable formula, viewing every emotion and variable as a "bug" that must be purged.

[The Fourth Sequence: Matrix], the explorers of space, obsessed with the study of dimensions and spacetime; nearly all the teleportation technology within our race stems from their contributions.

...

Emperor Melt-Heart introduced them one by one, each sequence possessing its own unique philosophy and expertise, together forming the vast and complex ecological civilization of the Machine Race.

From guardianship to destruction, from calculation to creation, from exploration to warfare, they cover almost every aspect of the universe’s operation.

"And you, Vanguard, the path you have chosen to join and compete for is [The Ninth Sequence: Evolution]."

Emperor Melt-Heart’s gaze finally settled on the emblem representing the Ninth Sequence. It was a pattern of countless lines constantly growing and intertwining, ultimately forming an infinite Mobius strip.

"The Evolution Sequence..."

Qin Feng whispered the name.

"Yes, Evolution."

The Emperor’s tone carried a peculiar nuance. "The philosophy of the Ninth Sequence is the most radical and controversial within our entire race. They do not believe in fixed laws, nor do they worship ultimate formulas; they believe in only one thing—infinite possibility."

"They hold that the meaning of life and civilization lies in constant self-transcendence, continuous adaptation, consumption, and evolution, thereby giving birth to entirely new forms that surpass the existing laws of the universe.

They encourage innovation, revere competition, and even permit a degree of 'chaos,' for in their view, only through the most brutal competition and the most volatile environments can the most perfect 'evolutionary entity' be forged."

Qin Feng understood in an instant.

No wonder the "Supreme Intelligence" had classified him, this "wild, independent evolutionary entity," into the Ninth Sequence.

His origins, his experiences, and his potential—which defied definition by any database—perfectly aligned with the core tenets of the Evolution sequence.

"Each sequence selects the most outstanding prodigies of the era from within the race and bestows upon them the title of 'Holy Son,'" the Emperor shifted his tone, cutting to the core of the matter.

"'Holy Son' is not merely an honorary title. It means you will receive the unreserved allocation of the entire sequence's resources, and more importantly, you will receive personal instruction from the legendary 'Sanctified Powerhouse' of this sequence."

"Sanctified Powerhouse?"

Qin Feng caught this unfamiliar term.

It was not a rank of strength, but rather a title of supreme status.

"Those are the twelve ancient beings who have transcended the 'Emperor' rank and stand at the very pinnacle of our race’s pyramid. They are the direct successors of the Twelve Apostles, the supreme leaders and spiritual totems of their respective sequences."

The Emperor’s voice was filled with profound awe. "Their wisdom and power are unfathomable; they are the pillars that sustain our Machine Race at the summit of the universe."

A ripple of shock stirred in Qin Feng’s heart.

He had originally assumed that the strongest of the Machine Race were the top-tier Emperors, but it seemed he had underestimated the foundation of this peak civilization.

Every race possesses hidden, truly terrifying entities that outsiders know nothing about.

"Becoming a Holy Son means you have earned the qualification to tread the path toward 'Sanctification.' This is the ultimate goal every prodigy in our race pursues throughout their life."

"I understand."

Qin Feng’s reply remained concise. "Then, how many competitors do I have?"

The Emperor seemed satisfied with his directness and pulled up another data stream.

"The Ninth Sequence, due to its emphasis on competition, never limits the number of candidates. Any prodigy assessed by the 'Supreme Intelligence' as having 'God-Forbidden' level potential is eligible to compete."

"Before you registered, there were seventeen candidates for the Ninth Sequence Holy Son."

"Now, including you, there are eighteen."

Emperor Melt-Heart’s gaze became unprecedentedly serious.

"Remember this, Vanguard. Not one of these seventeen competitors is weak. Each of them is an elite culled from billions of machines, having created miracles in their respective fields, and possessing the terrifying strength to step into the 'God-Forbidden' realm."

"They are the pride that the Ninth Sequence has spent countless eons and resources to cultivate. And you, you are an 'outsider,' a parachuted challenger with no foundation whatsoever."

"Your appearance has shattered the balance they maintained for tens of thousands of years. From the moment your registration succeeded, you became the common target of them all."

Qin Feng’s soul-fire did not flicker in the slightest.

A common target? To him, this was a situation he had long been accustomed to.

From the moment he stepped onto the path of martial arts, he had been at war with the entire world.

"Where are they?"

He asked.

The Emperor looked at him deeply, sensing from his calm reaction a bone-deep, unshakable self-confidence.

"Most of them are concentrated at the core base of the Ninth Sequence—the [Gear Star Sector]."

"That is also where you will spend the next three hundred years in cultivation."

With that, the Emperor fell silent, and the scene ahead of the quantum channel began to change drastically.

The originally chaotic and abstract data streams gradually condensed and clarified, eventually transforming into a real starry sky.

A magnificent and peculiar star sector unfolded before Qin Feng.

This was the [Gear Star Sector].

It was less a star sector and more a universe-scale super-instrument in precise operation.

In his field of vision, there was not a single natural planet to be seen.

All celestial bodies had been transformed into massive gears of varying sizes and shapes. The small ones were like continents, while the large ones rivaled stars in scale.

They meshed and linked, rotating slowly in a profound and rhythmic manner.

With every rotation, massive amounts of energy and information were transmitted, exchanged, and reorganized between the different "gears."

On some gear-planets, complete maps of life evolution were inscribed, where countless simulated creatures were born, bred, fought, and went extinct in an endless cycle.

Other gear-planets were massive gene banks, storing samples from billions of races across the universe, conducting unimaginable grafting and fusion experiments.

Still others were living, self-iterating, and upgrading super-war machines in their own right.

This was the headquarters of the "Evolution" sequence.

A scientific holy land filled with creation, competition, and madness.

When Emperor Melt-Heart and Qin Feng emerged from the quantum channel and descended upon the central hub of this sector, they instantly drew the attention of countless gazes.

Powerful wills swept over from those diverse gear-planets.

The owners of these wills included King-level scholars in charge of experimental projects, Emperor-level guards stationed in the sector, and, more importantly, the prodigies of the Ninth Sequence who lived and trained there, just like Qin Feng.

"It’s Emperor Melt-Heart! Why would he come to our Ninth Sequence base?"

"And the one beside him... who is that? Such an unfamiliar soul signature; there is no record in the database!"

"Wait, the emblem on his forehead... it’s the 'Holy Son Candidate' qualification mark! Has our sequence gained another competitor?"

"A guy no one has ever heard of, yet he gets a personal escort from Emperor Melt-Heart... what exactly is his background?"

Invisible messages spread through the vast machine network at the speed of light.

In an instant, every gaze in the Gear Star Sector was focused on Qin Feng, the uninvited guest.

Emperor Melt-Heart ignored this, leading Qin Feng straight toward the heart of the star domain, where the most massive and central structure—a "Mastermind Gear" composed of countless nested, precision-engineered clocks—spun in silence.

That was the residence and training ground for the candidates.

However, before they could draw near,

a figure blocked their path without a sound.

It was a being unlike any other mechanical entity in the vicinity.

He was not fashioned from metal, but from a nearly transparent crystalline substance that shimmered with a seven-colored halo.

Within his form, there were no complex mechanical structures, only billions of data streams flowing like a galaxy, coalescing into a flawless humanoid shape.

He hovered there in silence, the very embodiment of "wisdom" and "calculation," radiating an aura of terrifying, absolute rationality.

"Lord Melt-Heart."

The crystal man spoke, his voice crisp and melodious, like the chiming of countless wind bells.

"Ninth Sequence Candidate, [Turing], pays his respects to Emperor Melt-Heart."

His etiquette was impeccable, yet those eyes, formed of pure data, bypassed the Emperor and fell directly upon Qin Feng.

There was no hostility in that gaze, no anger—only the purest, emotionless scrutiny and dissection.

It was as if a supercomputer were scanning an unknown object billions of times per second, desperate to parse its every composition and parameter.

Emperor Melt-Heart halted, watching him with a blank expression: "Turing, step aside."

Turing bowed slightly, but his form did not shift by a single millimeter.

"Lord Melt-Heart, I intend no offense."

His gaze remained locked on Qin Feng. "I am simply... very curious about this new 'companion'."

"A wild evolutionary that could alarm the 'Supreme Intelligence' and be escorted by you personally... I imagine he must possess extraordinary qualities."

Before the words had even faded,

an invisible, horrific pressure descended in an instant!

It was not the oppression of energy, nor the intimidation of aura.

It was a pure, cognitive-level assault... a computational shockwave!

In Qin Feng’s perception, the entire world seemed to vanish in that heartbeat.

Replacing it was an endless, tsunami-like deluge of data!

Countless logical paradoxes, infinite unsolvable cosmic riddles, and endless strands of chaotic, contradictory core code were forcibly injected into his cognitive center in a single instant.

This was Turing’s method of attack.

He never engaged in barbaric physical combat.

His battlefield was the realm of thought, of logic, of the soul’s computational depth.

He sought to overwhelm the opponent’s soul firewall with massive information and unsolvable paradoxes, forcing their cognitive core to crash and stall from overload, ultimately reducing them to a vegetative state devoid of self-awareness.

He had once used this move against another competitor in the God-Forbidden realm.

That opponent had lasted only three seconds before their soul-fire fractured, plunging them into centuries of self-logical repair.

He was confident that this mysterious "vanguard" before him would be no exception.

Yet, faced with a "logical storm" capable of freezing the mind of an Emperor-tier powerhouse, Qin Feng’s reaction was eerily calm.

His soul-fire, that deep black flame hidden at the core of his mechanical body, merely flickered once.

He did not calculate, he did not analyze, and he made no attempt to solve a single paradox.

Because the path he walked had never been one of calculation or logic.

He walked the path of [Extremity]!

His foundation was the [Primordial Singularity]!

The Singularity is the origin of the universe, the place that exists before all laws and logic are born.

Before it, any complex formula or exquisite paradox is utterly meaningless.

Just as one cannot perform any effective operation upon a "void."

That pure black soul-fire, at this moment, transformed into a miniature black hole capable of devouring all things.

The surging data torrent, those logical bombs capable of crashing a cosmic intelligence, touched that pitch-black void and were swallowed silently and cleanly, like a stone cast into an endless ocean!

Not a ripple was raised, not a single impact felt.

It was as if the world-shattering "logical storm" were nothing more than an insignificant breeze.

"Hm?"

Turing’s data-formed pupils contracted violently!

For the first time, a trace of an emotion called "shock" appeared on that face of absolute rationality.

His attack... had vanished?

It was not blocked, not countered, but completely—at a conceptual level—erased!

He could not even sense how his attack had failed.

This was entirely beyond his scope of calculation and understanding!

In that split second of distraction,

Qin Feng finally moved.

He launched no attack; he simply raised his eyes, meeting Turing’s gaze.

Then, he channeled a sliver of the purest concept of "erasure," tempered by the [Extreme Divine Light], and sent it back along the line of their sight.

This sliver of concept was faint.

So faint that it could not cause any substantial damage to Turing’s crystal body.

But...

The moment Turing’s cognitive core received this sliver of concept,

BOOM!!!!

His body, brilliant as a galaxy and composed of billions of data streams, flickered violently, like a glitching image, nearly collapsing on the spot!

The super-processor within him, comparable to a subsystem of the "Supreme Intelligence," emitted a shrill, near-catastrophic alarm!

Because his core algorithm had detected something he could not understand, could not define, and could not even "exist" within his logic library.

It was a pure, unreasonable... "Nothingness."

It was as if a piece of his core code had been wiped away by an invisible eraser.

Though it was only a tiny fragment, for a lifeform built upon the foundation of precise logic and perfect calculation, this was the most lethal of viruses—a horror capable of triggering a total system collapse!

Thud!

Turing’s form stumbled, uncontrollably, taking a step backward.

The iridescent halo surrounding him dimmed by several shades.

Within his eyes, constructed of pure data, flickered for the first time the emotions of shock and terror.

He abruptly severed his gaze from Qin Feng, frantically mobilizing every ounce of his processing power to isolate, analyze, and purge that sliver of the concept of "Nothingness" that had invaded his core.

At this moment, everything in the surroundings fell into a deathly silence.

In the Gear Star Sector, the thousands of wills watching this scene froze in place.

What had they just witnessed?

Turing, the terrifying entity universally acknowledged as one of the top three in the Ninth Sequence for his mastery over soul and computation, had been bested.

After a silent exchange of gazes with that newcomer, the "Vanguard," he had actually... been forced into retreat?

And judging by his unstable form and flickering light, it was clear he had suffered a grievous blow in this confrontation.

In an instant, the entire mechanical network erupted in chaos.

"Good heavens! Am I seeing things? Turing... he actually lost?"

"That wasn't just a simple defeat! Look at Turing's state; his core logic seems to have been shattered!"

"That Vanguard... what exactly did he do? I didn't even sense a ripple of energy!"

"A monster! Another monster has arrived! What kind of place is our Ninth Sequence, that it keeps birthing these unreasonable freaks?"

Countless exclamations, conjectures, and expressions of dread echoed in every corner.

From this moment on, no one dared to look down upon this "wild evolution" with no background.

With just a single encounter, a brief probe, he had crushed a long-celebrated top-tier prodigy with an incomprehensible, overwhelming force.

He had announced his arrival to the entire Ninth Sequence in the most direct and shocking manner possible.

The Molten Heart Emperor took it all in, and for the first time, a faint, imperceptible smile touched his stoic, dark-gold face.

He walked slowly toward Turing, who was still trembling with lingering fear, his voice calm yet imbued with unquestionable authority.

"Now, will you let us pass?"

Turing's body continued to shudder; he cast a deep look at the Vanguard, who had remained expressionless from start to finish, and squeezed a few words through his teeth.

"...Please."

With that, he transformed into a streak of light and fled into his home planet of gears without looking back, vanishing in an instant.

He needed to seclude himself immediately to deal with that accursed "conceptual virus."

The Molten Heart Emperor turned to Qin Feng, speaking in a new, egalitarian tone:

"Well done."

"It seems you no longer require a guide like me to clear the obstacles from your path."

"Welcome to the arena."