"These dreams are about the saints?" Grey frowned.

He thought that this was his own imagination being turned into a movie-like scene, but no, this was actually related to the saints all along.

They had mentioned something about a thing, and he could not understand it properly due to the language barrier, but the thing that was going to descend was most likely the hand.

The next moment his vision shifted.

He stood in the void, staring at the brighter light flickering within the chaotic space.

That light was the Immortal Realm.

From within that distant radiance, several figures slowly stepped out.

They were true immortals, their long robes carrying the heaviness of countless eras.

Wherever they passed, space subtly twisted, and even the chaotic currents instinctively avoided them as though unwilling to brush against beings who had long surpassed all mortal limits.

Their expressions were calm, their eyes deep and unreadable, as if they had watched the rise and fall of worlds for a thousand lifetimes.

This time, Grey was more attentive to the top experts, unlike before, where he paid no heed to them aside from noticing their garments, genders, and ages.

He willed to see their faces closely, and immediately the scene zoomed in.

"The eyes..." Grey finally confirmed it.

Every one of them carried the same Q-shaped mark he possessed.

The Saint's Eye.

The moment that realization surfaced, a faint light flashed across Grey's pupils.

At that exact instant, the Saint's Eyes of the distant experts trembled in response, as if echoing him.

"Huh..." Grey's expression froze, then widened in disbelief.

Because all the Saints of the Immortal Realm had turned their gazes onto him.

For a moment, the gathered experts stared, their Saint's Eyes shimmering with an unnatural pulse.

One of the immortals frowned slightly.

"The Saint's Eye rarely reacts on its own. This fluctuation... ▇▇▇▇."

Another narrowed his gaze, runes faintly circling his pupils.

"Such resonance only occurs when a Saint from ▇▇▇▇ makes contact. Yet no record mentions ▇▇▇▇."

A third shook his head.

"From ▇▇▇▇? Impossible. The Heavenly Dao seals the river ▇▇▇▇."

The woman among them spoke softly, her tone steady but cautious.

"Then what is this? A projection? A remnant? Or... ▇▇▇▇ slipping through from ▇▇▇▇?"

An older expert let out a low hum as cracks of Dao-light appeared behind him.

"If it were merely ▇▇▇▇, the intensity would not be this strong. This feels familiar, yet foreign. It is as though something that should exist among us is reaching from ▇▇▇▇."

Another stepped forward.

"Whoever it is, they carry the Saint's Eye. Their identity is unquestionable. But why does it appear as ▇▇▇▇ instead of ▇▇▇▇?"

The oldest among them spoke aagain.

"If a Saint from ▇▇▇▇ forced a connection, the reaction would be exactly like this."

He paused, his eyes flickering again.

"Or perhaps a Saint we have yet ▇▇▇▇ has already crossed that boundary?"

"The Ultimate Leap."

The experts exchanged silent glances.

Now that they had reached the same conclusion, that a Saint from some distant time or distant universe had made contact, their expressions slowly grew solemn.

A thin, ancient voice finally broke the silence.

"You who dared to stare beyond the river of fate... is this a warning?"

Another expert's gaze deepened.

"Or perhaps a sign? Could this be the omen of the cycle's end?"

The oldest among them looked toward the chaotic horizon, his Saint's Eye trembling.

"Has the ▇▇▇▇ trapped under the ▇▇▇▇ finally reached its limit?"

Grey's heart pounded violently in his chest.

'Cycle? End? What the hell are they talking about...?'

But what frightened him even more was the fact that these beings could actually sense him and were conversing with him while staring directly at him.

Where exactly was this place, and how terrifying were these beings to sense him from his tiny little mansion on Blue Star?

One of the female saints spoke next, her voice solemn.

"If a distant Saint has forced contact, then the calamity we have awaited may truly be at our doorstep."

Another nodded, his aura rising slightly, strong enough to make the surrounding chaos tremble.

"We will not run from it. Not after preparing for countless eras."

An immortal with long silver hair stepped forward.

"Whether you come from the future or from a universe beyond our reach, your touch upon the Saint's Eye is no coincidence. It must be a message."

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with resolve.

"Then hear our answer."

A surge of power rippled outward as all the Saints slowly lifted their gazes to the unseen threat lurking beyond the chaotic space.

"Today, we will face the ▇▇▇▇."

"If you, distant Saint, require aid, whether across time or across worlds, then we shall offer you everything we have."

The strongest among them spoke last, his voice echoing like a decree of the heavens.

"We, the Saints, the final pillars of this realm, will fight with all our strength. If our blades can buy you even a fragment of hope, then we will carve it out with our lives."

Following that, they all looked toward Grey with a hopeful look on their faces.

It was the look one gave before their imminent death, and then they soared toward the chaotic space and reached the very edge of everything that existed.

The very next moment, Grey saw it again.

The extremely familiar scene from the last two worlds.

The chaotic space beyond the realms broke apart, and a hand covered in a mysterious pattern emerged.

Following its appearance, its power shot toward the immortal world.

The immortals unleashed all their might, the sheer intensity shaking all three realms below and the chaotic space as a whole.

"It is a ▇▇▇▇." The oldest immortal spoke.

"I will never ▇▇▇▇ the Ultimate Leap."

Immortal power surged out from him like a tidal wave as he clashed with the hand.

Mysterious force surged around the hand as a red-black corruption descended onto the immortal, and his existence was slowly erased.

Grey could hear his final words clearly.

"One day... one day... someone ▇▇▇▇ boundary."

Following him, the other immortals who had all achieved sainthood rushed toward the hand, with the very world itself breaking apart from their sheer power.

However, just as Grey had predicted, they could not win.

One by one, they were swallowed by the hand, and following that, the hand formed a suction that swallowed everything.

His vision went blank.

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