The Master of the Ancient Desolate Civilization is paying attention to Lu Yuan! What a momentous event this is!

To receive the attention of a Civilization Master is an unparalleled honor. Precisely because of this, countless people have begun to follow Lu Yuan.

At the Sword Forgetting Stele, there are simply too many people gathered. The Saint Speed Ship sliced through the void like a bolt of lightning.

Must be fast! Yun Xiuxue felt a weakness spread through her entire body; the closer she got to the Sword Forgetting Stele, the more afraid she became, so afraid that all strength fled her limbs.

Yet, no matter how weak she felt, she had to face it, had to confront it. The Saint Speed Ship slammed to a halt with a boom.

Yun Xiuxue remained on the vessel, immediately fixing her gaze upon the Sword Forgetting Stele. She dared not look, dared not gaze, yet she was compelled to see, compelled to watch.

Hoping she would not see Lu Yuan. Upon the ten-thousand-zhang-high Sword Forgetting Stele, a figure in cyan robes sat cross-legged.

The wind was fierce, whipping the cyan cloth into a frantic dance, and the long hair of the cyan-robed figure billowed with the gale. Yun Xiuxue realized she had lost all remaining strength, nearly collapsing onto the deck.

She was a step too late. Two lines of clear tears traced paths down her smooth cheeks.

Why? The Dharma Saint Imperial Son shook his head.

"It's too late." He truly hadn't expected Lu Yuan to be so resolute. Since ancient times, only three individuals had successfully passed the Stele of Sitting and Forgetting; yet Lu Yuan had chosen this very path.

He had anticipated Lu Yuan might hesitate, granting him some necessary time. The Dharma Saint Imperial Son recalled a saying from the First Dharma Imperial Son: The sword wielder, heaven and earth will not tolerate.

The sword wielder, would rather perish than yield. This is what sets the sword wielder entirely apart from all others.

The Dharma Saint Imperial Son realized he had completely misunderstood sword wielders before. Were all the most outstanding and powerful sword wielders of the previous epoch characterized by such uncompromising natures?

They were truly a group that inspired both headaches and terror. Yet, seeing his most cherished fourth sister weep brought him no solace.

Had he chosen the wrong path? The Dharma Saint Imperial Son held the authority over a great ancient civilization, but now he felt utterly helpless.

Before the Stele of Sitting and Forgetting, countless murmurs of debate arose. "This Lu Yuan is truly ruthless." "Indeed.

On the previous two paths, a slight bow or enduring a moment of anger would have sufficed, yet he chose the most difficult third path." "He is genuinely a hardened soul." "If he weren't hardened, he wouldn't have drawn the attention of a Civilization Master. For those below the Civilization Realm, even securing a Heavenly Venerate's attention is difficult.

The saying that all beneath the Civilization Realm are but ants is not spoken lightly." "I heard Lu Yuan’s swordsmanship rivals that of the Son of the Sword. He must be a figure on par with the Seven Sons of Destiny." Amidst this lively chatter, Tong Yunzhou, the strategist of the Bronze Civilization, raised his cup to the Desolate Saint Imperial Son.

Although Tong Yunzhou was merely an official of a lesser civilization, his infamous title, 'Ghost Cry God Sorrow,' held considerable weight, making him a formidable figure even within the Central Heavenly Dynasty. The Desolate Saint Imperial Son, whose mood was already excellent, returned the toast with equal warmth.

The two exchanged a knowing smile and downed their drinks. Lu Yuan—this troublesome figure brimming with infinite potential—was walking to his own doom.

How wonderful. Of course, had Lu Yuan chosen either of the first two paths, the Bronze Civilization and the Ancient Desolate Civilization would have welcomed him gladly.

Once Lu Yuan forfeited that spirit of 'choosing the straight path over the crooked one,' the essence and spirit of the sword wielder would have been ruined, and his growth stunted. The Son of the Sword received a special exemption, needing no unequal treaties to obtain the Imprint of Desolation.

Lu Yuan could not receive such leniency. This was because there was a significant gap between the Son of the Sword and Lu Yuan.

The Son of the Sword possessed unparalleled destiny/luck; in this regard, he surpassed Lu Yuan considerably. However, deep in his bones, the spirit of the sword wielder in Lu Yuan was superior.

Lu Yuan bore a strong resemblance to the ancient sword wielders of the previous epoch. Both the Bronze Civilization and the Ancient Desolate Civilization held a distinct aversion to these unyielding, ancient sword wielders.

Therefore, Lu Yuan’s choice of the third path was indeed excellent for them. But what did any of this matter to Lu Yuan, sitting atop the Sword Forgetting Stele?

The wind is truly strong! Lu Yuan knew he was gambling with his life, a gamble that might not succeed in even one in a thousand attempts.

Yet, this was his only option: to gamble. He took a gulp of wine, sitting on the Sword Forgetting Stele.

The wind here in the Central Heavenly Dynasty was immense; such a gale, if set upon Mount Hua, could likely blow the entire mountain down. Lu Yuan mused aimlessly.

To pass the test of the Sword Forgetting Stele, one only needed to sit upon it for six full hours. Upon success, the Heavenly Tribulation above his head would vanish automatically.

But those six hours were far from easy. Six hours upon the Sword Forgetting Stele was known as the 'Limit of Life and Death'; only three people in an entire epoch had managed to pass this trial.

The Sword Forgetting Stele finally reacted, emitting a ray of light from the stone surface. This light was known as the Light of Dust Oblivion, capable of erasing memories.

On the Sword Forgetting Stele, scenes from Lu Yuan’s childhood flickered into view—moments before he turned ten. This was his familial affection, scenes from when he was six to ten years old.

Lu Yuan remained at home only until age ten before heading to Mount Hua. Since he had virtually no memories before the age of six, these four years at home constituted the entirety of his early family life.

Consequently, Lu Yuan’s emotional attachment to kinship had always been rather faint. As the Light of Dust Oblivion flashed, this segment of memory began to blur, eventually dissipating completely.

The Sword Forgetting Stele would cycle through various memories, and if these memories ultimately vanished, that entire segment of his life would be permanently forgotten. The appearance of these memories was entirely chaotic, utterly unpredictable; which memory segment would appear first, which would be erased next, was completely random, showing virtually no discernible order.

Next appeared numerous scenes from within the Sword Gate: his initial entry, the recent Sword Gate Rebellion, and so on. Watching Lu Yuan’s displayed conduct, the surrounding crowd gasped in amazement.

They had only seen his profile through intelligence reports; now, watching his memories, they grasped the astonishing nature of his achievements, finally affirming that Lu Yuan was indeed an earth-shattering figure nearing the level of the Seven Sons of Destiny. Flash after flash of the Light of Dust Oblivion struck, and the myriad memories of the Sword Gate gradually began to fade.

Lu Yuan lost this section of his past. Then, a sequence of scenes emerged on the Sword Forgetting Stele: the innocent and lively Liu Ye’er; the self-reliant Senior Sister Ling Yuzhu; the powerful and enigmatic Miss Zhong; and the time, during the ceremony where Grandmaster Chu ascended, when he accidentally brushed lips with Zhong Ling.

Of course, more and more memories involved the Sword Spirit Empress, Di Ji. His interactions with Yun Xiuxue—their first acquaintance, likely during the trial within the Sword Dao Research Lab, where they explored numerous sword techniques together.

Later, as they charged toward the Sword Cultivation Star. "Lu Yuan, your ability to analyze sword techniques in the Research Lab surpasses mine.

Let's see who reaches the Sword Cultivation Star first this time." The Sword Spirit Empress couldn't help but ask, "And if I lose to you, what will you demand?" "Then let's make it this way: If you lose, you must grant me one condition. I haven't decided on the condition yet, but it certainly won't violate your chivalry, nor will it harm your friends or martial brothers." The nine Heavenly Crystal Fish he gifted in the Ancient Dharma Civilization, bestowed for a lifetime.

After that, countless more memories flashed across the Sword Forgetting Stele. Under the onslaught of the Light of Dust Oblivion, these memories also began to grow hazy.

On the Saint Speed Ship, Yun Xiuxue was sobbing, clinging to the rail. "I am so jealous.

His first kiss wasn't with me," Yun Xiuxue cried. "But I am also incredibly happy; over ninety percent of his affections belong only to me." Whether she was grieving or joyous, Yun Xiuxue couldn't discern; a faint smile played on her lips even as tears streamed down.

"The silken mat and water ripples bring endless thoughts; a thousand miles of promised reunion ends in one night. From now on, my heart finds no joy in sweet evenings, letting the moon shine alone on the western tower." In the past, she loved this poem, feeling like a young girl ignorant of true sorrow, wanting to speak but holding back.

Wanting to speak but holding back, only to realize, ah, how chilly the autumn air. Now, she truly understood the taste of love and hatred.

Love is bitter, hatred is bitter. Wanting to speak but holding back, wanting to speak but holding back.

Yun Xiuxue's sobs were quiet, not loud wails—a silent, internal choking. But the Dharma Saint Imperial Son knew that his sister’s silent struggle was more heartbreaking than a loud cry.

However, once one enters the Stele of Sitting and Forgetting, even a Civilization Realm entity cannot interfere—such is the rule of the Stele. He could only pray that Lu Yuan could pull a reversal from this desperate situation and avoid having so many memories washed away.

But could he? Could he?

The current Lu Yuan had already been purged of his memories of the Sword Gate, his kinship, and his romance. It seemed his will was unable to withstand the Light of Dust Oblivion emanating from the Stele of Sitting and Forgetting.

Lu Yuan would not become the fourth person in this epoch to succeed. The onlookers watched Lu Yuan's memories being wiped clean, all sighing in lament.

Such a prodigious genius, even engaged to the Empress of the Ancient Dharma Civilization—a figure destined for greatness—was now to have his memories erased here. The memory erasure caused by the Stele of Sitting and Forgetting was unique; not even a Civilization Realm expert could restore what was lost.

Tong Yunzhou, the Bronze Saint Imperial Son, and the Desolate Saint Imperial Son began drinking with smug satisfaction. If Lu Yuan’s spirit shattered and he became an imbecile, he had no one to blame.

On the Sword Forgetting Stele, scenes from his life on Mount Hua began to appear. It could be said that compared to the memories of the Sword Gate, his kinship, or his romance, the recollections of Mount Hua were far more deeply etched in Lu Yuan’s mind.

Essentially, this was Lu Yuan’s most profound set of memories. If this segment were successfully purged, Lu Yuan would be utterly reduced to an imbecile by the Stele of Sitting and Forgetting, his mind irreparably broken.

In the heavens, the tribulation clouds flashed, and the Grand Tribulation was about to descend, its might echoing. This Heavenly Tribulation had the backing of Heaven and Earth; it would not cease until Lu Yuan was destroyed.

The Greater World of Desolation could not accommodate the Lesser World of the Sword, yet Lu Yuan had carved out his own Lesser World of the Sword. Nearby, many onlookers engaged in various speculations.

The members of the Sword Gate were utterly powerless; Old Ancestor Jianmie let out a long sigh. On the ship, the girl in white choked silently, her sorrow penetrating to the bone.