“I can only take you this far.” The Black Armored Warrior pointed ahead. “Cross the Stone of Three Lives, walk the Bridge of Forgetfulness, and follow the proper order—you will naturally reincarnate.”

“Alright.” Henry Johnson nodded gently.

“Take this.” The Warrior spoke, flipping his palm to reveal the original golden scroll.

“Okay.” Henry Johnson didn’t ask further, accepted it, and when he looked up again, The Black Armored Warrior had already vanished without a trace.

Henry Johnson glanced around briefly and walked straight into the line of spirits. The blood-armored guards did not stop him.

These ghost soldiers, having seen The Black Armored Warrior, naturally knew this white-robed youth was no ordinary person and didn’t want to provoke him. After all, if something happened, it wouldn’t be their responsibility.

Step by step, following the spirits ahead, Henry Johnson arrived at the edge of the bridge. Suddenly, he felt time and space shift; the spirits walking beside him and the guarding soldiers all seemed to transform into beings from different times and worlds.

Under this sky, on this earth, before his eyes, there was only himself and that strange stone.

That stone seemed to possess a magical power, drawing his gaze uncontrollably. Scenes began to appear on its surface: mountains, flowers, people…

A child toddled forward, with a smiling couple ahead…

A young boy lay in the grass with friends, gazing at the stars and chatting freely about the future…

A handsome young man walked through the mountains, holding the hand of a girl as ethereal as a spirit…

As he watched, the past drifted away like smoke on the wind. Only before the Stone of Three Lives could one witness their former lives. Henry Johnson suddenly felt tears welling in his eyes…

Ninety thousand years of loneliness—he thought he would never cry again. The torment of the eighteen levels of hell—he thought his heart held only hatred.

Now, he realized that within his heart still remained his own softness and perseverance, and that untainted promise.

“To sit before the Stone of Three Lives, resolve the past, and forget this life?” Henry Johnson murmured, his eyes regaining their icy chill as he stepped forward lightly. “What a pity. The past, this life, and the next—I will not forget. How could I forget? How would I dare to forget!”

With a ripple, he stepped out of the stone’s range and onto the Bridge of Forgetfulness.

Chapter Two: The Blood Sword Cleaves the Summit

Crossing the Bridge of Forgetfulness, he arrived beside the Yellow Springs Road.

Henry Johnson gently shook his head. In the distance, along the banks of the River of Oblivion and on both sides of the Yellow Springs Road, there bloomed endless, blood-red flowers—these were the other shore flowers, which bloom only on the Yellow Springs Road, the only scenery along this path.

“The Yellow Springs are like blood, the flowers burn like fire—truly the Road of Fiery Illumination!” Henry Johnson smiled faintly and strode onto the Yellow Springs Road.

Crossing the River of Oblivion, entering the Yellow Springs—this life and this world would be left on the other shore, and from then on, there would be no more troubles or worries. He walked through the sea of blood-red flowers straight to the Gate of Reincarnation.

As Henry Johnson moved forward, he felt the spirits who had been traveling with him disperse in all directions, as if countless passages were opening at every moment. Henry Johnson understood that this was a strange phenomenon formed by the overlapping of countless planes of time and space.

Another step, and time and space shifted. Before him stood a massive black stone, its surface faintly glowing with divine radiance.

“The Stone of Judgment!” Henry Johnson looked at the stone and murmured.

Ninety thousand years ago, it was before this black stone that he shook the entire underworld. Today, he had returned once more.

But unlike the earth-shattering scene of ninety thousand years ago, the Stone of Judgment, which revealed the sins of spirits’ past lives, showed no reaction to Henry Johnson. Only streams of light flowed across its surface, highlighting its extraordinary nature.

“You don’t wish to question me? I’ll still give you the same answer!” Henry Johnson smiled lightly. “In this life, I have no regrets. In this world, I will not forget!”

Without further hesitation, Henry Johnson turned and left, the mist still shrouding the area.

After passing the Stone of Judgment, only a narrow stone path remained. The other shore flowers had disappeared, replaced by mountains of blades and trees of swords, their cold gleam creating a chilling atmosphere. Moving closer, he arrived at a platform wide at the top and narrow at the base.

This place was called the Terrace of Longing for Home!

Standing below the platform, Henry Johnson could already see many spirits standing atop it, weeping bitterly, unwilling to leave. This was the final moment of memory from this life. Yet no matter how reluctant, invisible forces would still push you toward the Six Bridges of Reincarnation in the distance.

Here, time and space overlapped. There was only one Terrace of Longing for Home, yet it could accommodate the souls of billions. Henry Johnson was just one among them.

“It’s said that from here, one can observe all the heavens and search all the worlds—the greatest treasure of divination in the underworld. I wonder if I can see a trace of blue in that endless night sky.” Henry Johnson felt a ripple in his heart.

Unfortunately, atop the terrace, all he saw was endless darkness, without even the faintest glimmer of light.

“Ninety thousand years in hell—my loved ones and friends from the past have surely reincarnated a thousand times over!” Henry Johnson gazed into the endless darkness, half-smiling, half-crying. “So be it. In this life, I alone remain!”

With no nostalgia, no hesitation, Henry Johnson turned and walked away.

A river, named the River of Oblivion; a bridge, named the Bridge of Forgetfulness; a road, named the Yellow Springs; an old woman, her name is Martha.

“Gold, silver, jade, stone, wood, black—the Six Bridges of Reincarnation!” Henry Johnson gazed quietly.

Cross the bridge, step into another world, and begin a brand new cycle of reincarnation!