Chapter 479: Samsara's Knot! Fate, Fortune and Retribution! Reincarnated Gods?
Eleanor's unique understanding of the soul stemmed from a lifetime of dedication, not to flashy techniques or combat powers, but to the soul's deepest mysteries.
Her focus had always been on the essence of existence itself, rather than the battlefield, where others like Wang Xiao thrived.
Unlike her, Wang Xiao, before his infamous descent into the graveyard of gods, might have classified himself as a Quasi-Sage.
His strength had been honed through countless clashes with hell spirits, his fists doing the talking, his power growing with each life threatening encounter.
It was only after surviving those soul-crushing battles that Wang Xiao could even begin to rival Eleanor.
Their paths had diverged so sharply—she, the quiet scholar of the soul; he, the brute warrior.
Yet, through their stark differences, Wang Xiao had come to grasp the full weight of Aurora's words: each person's path was unique, shaped by their choices, their experiences, their struggles.
In this vast, chaotic world, he had encountered two such anomalies—Mary and Eleanor.
Both women defied his well-constructed system of classification, standing out like blazing stars in an otherwise orderly sky.
But if there were two such outliers, surely there were more out there, each beyond simple categorization.
Despite these outliers, Wang Xiao clung firmly to his system, which was grounded in one thing he could always rely on: raw, destructive capability.
It had served him well and would continue to do so.
There was no need to throw everything away just because a few exceptions existed.
If a person understood Samsara, he thought, just call them a God and be done with it.
Constructing a reliable system was no small feat when faced with the dynamic and unpredictable nature of individual abilities.
Wang Xiao still remembered the days when he had turned to novels and games, searching for inspiration—looking for a power system that could be adapted to reality.
That experience had left him thoroughly disgusted.
The thought of reducing the intricacies of combat to something so simplistic was laughable to him now.
A system where a Grade Seven warrior stood no chance against a Grade Eight simply because of their rank?
Ludicrous.
The reality of combat was far more complex than arbitrary numbers.
There were always trump cards, hidden techniques, years of experience, and the sheer will of the fighter to factor in.
And of course, there was the greatest factor of all: a sharp mind.
No amount of cultivation could cure stupidity.
Wang Xiao's mind raced, reviewing these thoughts within mere moments.
He never left room for error, especially in front of those like Eveline, who would pounce on the slightest weakness.
There was no way he'd let himself be outdone or, worse, embarrassed by something as trivial as lack of knowledge.
Which is why, when Eveline mentioned the "Samsara Knot," he had to pause.
The concept was unfamiliar, and that alone bothered him deeply.
For all his immense knowledge, for all his encounters with gods, immortals, and beings beyond, he had never come across anything like it.
That was enough to make him take notice, enough to make him 'actually' think.
Perhaps there was more to Samsara than he had initially believed.
It was rare for him to be caught off guard, but in this case, Wang Xiao couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity—and irritation.
After all, how could something like this slip past him?
"Samsara's Knot... it's something we don't fully understand." Eveline took a deep breath, her golden eyes narrowing as if recalling distant, confusing memories.
"What we do know is that, during the rebirth of gods in our era, strange phenomena would occur."
"Even gods who hadn't yet achieved an immortal core—still in the process of forming one—would somehow reincarnate. But they wouldn't reincarnate fully; only fragments of their souls would latch onto nearby bodies."
"They would cluster together, forming chains."
"Only small parts of their essence would stick, not the complete soul."
She paused for a moment, letting the weight of her words sink in. "To put it simply, imagine a family of three people, and each of them carries a fragment of a god's soul—fragments belonging to gods from the past who practiced similar divine arts. For instance, Fate, Fortune, and Retribution. The gods who mastered these divine arts could all choose to reincarnate within the same family."
"These aren't true reincarnations, as the gods haven't formed their immortal cores. Instead, it's more like inheritance. As long as the individual awakens the fragment of the god's soul within them, they'd gain all the memories and possibly the powers of that god."
Wang Xiao's expression remained unreadable, but Mary was quick to catch on. "So, you're saying... three gods from the past, possessing the powers of Fate, Fortune, and Retribution, have been reborn in fragments?" Her gaze sharpened.
Eveline nodded, surprised by how quickly Mary understood. "Exactly. The woman who awakened the memories of Nemesis—the goddess of Retribution—has already reclaimed her past. The girl with Fate's abilities remains in the dark for now. But the man... the King of Yaksha, the god of Fortune, has passively awakened, without realizing it."
Mary's eyes widened. "You're talking about a convergence paradox."
Eveline's brows furrowed. "A what?"
Mary shrugged. "It's nothing. Just something a student of mine was researching obsessively. But doesn't this imply that all of us might carry fragments of other souls, gods or beings who lived countless lives before us? Could we awaken *their* memories, too?"
For a brief moment, Eveline looked genuinely stunned. "That... shouldn't be possible," she muttered, though her hesitation suggested that Mary had touched on something deeper, something not even Eveline could fully deny.
"Why?" Mary questioned.
All eyes turned to Eveline, waiting.
But Eveline had no answers. It wasn't that it had never happened before—it was just so rare that nobody had claimed to have "infinite" past lives.
At best, they remembered only a handful.
Wang Xiao smiled bitterly, breaking the awkward tension. "If that were to happen, that person would have enough knowledge to tap into the universal sea of wisdom.
"Huh?" Mary blinked, her confusion mirrored by everyone else in the room as they turned to face him.
Wang Xiao had long considered this paradox, and the answer was simple.
Individual soul fragments—those that weren't cultivated by stronger beings—don't retain anything at all.
They're just scattered pieces, blank slates.
"That's why they lose their individuality after death," Wang Xiao continued, as if he were explaining basic arithmetic. "Samsara is a cleansing process. Souls are wiped clean, like shaking an Etch A Sketch. The only reason a Samsara's Knot could happen is because the fragments were from gods who were already in the process of forming soul cores.
Not fully complete, but strong enough to stay together, forming an invisible knot that keeps them from being erased during the cycle."
Eveline nodded, her face thoughtful. "Right... normally, even if those fragments existed, they wouldn't awaken unless..."
"Unless there was external interference," Wang Xiao finished, his tone casual, but his eyes glinting with a knowing look.
At that, Eveline and Mary's gazes shot to him, intense and questioning.
It was as if they were suddenly considering *who* might've been meddling.
Meanwhile, Yue and Wenxi, Wang Xiao's two "grown-up cabbages," exchanged glances, their expressions shifting into quiet defense mode.
Why were these two women staring at *him* like he was responsible for all this?
And even if he *was*, what gave them the right to look at him like that?
Especially Eveline.
She should be counting her blessings for still being alive after almost killing them all before.
If Wang Xiao had any idea his cabbages were silently standing guard over him like this, he'd be laughing his head off.
But for now, he remained blissfully unaware, facing down Eveline and Mary with the calm confidence of a being who'd seen—and caused—far worse storms than this.
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