"Unable to detect soul presence."
Once again, the same feedback.
Brunhilde froze. Could it be that after entering the portal, those individuals were annihilated entirely?
She tried summoning others.
"Unable to detect soul presence."
"Unable to detect soul presence."
Again and again.
"Unable to detect soul presence."
"Unable to detect soul presence."
"All silenced…?"
Five consecutive failed attempts. Brunhilde's chest tightened.
Without delay, she initiated mass facial recognition on the remaining hundreds who had entered the portal—then summoned them collectively.
The result:
"Unable to detect soul presence"…"Unable to detect soul presence"…
Popups filled the screen, a barrage of the same dire message. Cold sweat trickled down Brunhilde's face.
Had all their souls truly been obliterated?
Was the Western Chu Conqueror Xiang Yu truly this ruthless?
If so, the records of his bloodthirsty conquests might not be exaggerations after all.
Those texts describing his tendency to massacre cities after military victories… Were they true?
Suddenly compelled, Brunhilde initiated a summoning of the black-armored soldiers—recognized from earlier.
Identification complete. She summoned again.
"Unable to detect soul presence."
Same result. Were they also purged?
"Big sister, could it be… after entering the portal, they were shielded somehow?"
Lantigris's quiet voice broke the silence, offering a tentative theory.
"That's impossible," Brunhilde snapped. Her tone was sharp, almost mocking her younger sister's naivety. "This is the Akasha system. As long as a soul exists within this universe, no matter how hidden—it can be summoned. If there's no reaction, there's only one reason: complete soul obliteration. No rebirth. No recovery."
But even as she dismissed it, Brunhilde herself harbored the same suspicion. She simply couldn't accept it.
Because it defied logic—defied the laws of Akasha itself.
Akasha recorded everything in the universe. If a being existed, it would be documented.
And they were documented. Their actions were part of history.
That meant they existed in this world. Their souls should be summonable unless utterly shattered.
If summoning failed, it meant soul annihilation. Dust in the cosmic wind.
Could they somehow exist outside the Akasha-recorded universe?
Ridiculous. Impossible.
Such a result could only stem from an attempt to conceal something beyond comprehension. Mass soul purges—acts of utter cruelty—to hide truths too terrible to uncover.
Brunhilde now understood: the scale of this soul-erasure likely far exceeded her darkest suspicions.
She took a deep breath. Fingers danced across the complex interface. Her screen lit up like a hacker's rig.
Finally, she slammed her hand on one button—new windows burst open, and torrents of data spilled forth.
Her pupils raced, scanning.
"Unable to detect soul presence."
"Soul presence detected."
"Unable to detect soul presence."
"Soul presence detected." …
The flood of entries made her scalp tingle. So many lost. Far, far too many.
Brunhilde had filtered results by era: 259 BCE to 202 BCE.
The first marked the birth of the First Emperor of Qin.
The second—the recorded death of Xiang Yu.
Her instincts whispered that these two were connected by secrets long buried.
The results left her chilled to the bone.
She ran a comprehensive census on that eastern kingdom. Not just soldiers—countless ordinary citizens had vanished without trace.
Large-scale soul disappearances corresponded to wars in the final phase of the Warring States era.
But… there were non-war-related gaps, too. During the early Qin Dynasty.
One event stood out—an abrupt spike. Over one million souls vanished in an instant.
That time period? It coincided with the Emperor's command to build the Great Wall.
Brunhilde's scalp crawled.
She remembered: the First Emperor pursued immortality… sought to become a god.
Could he have strayed down a forbidden path—one that demanded massive soul sacrifices?
If this purge truly happened, it meant the Emperor had power beyond human measure.
But then—how did the Qin Dynasty collapse so suddenly? With Xiang Yu leading the rebellion?
If the two were connected, perhaps the collapse was orchestrated—a veil to hide deeper truths.
Brunhilde recalibrated the timeline jump. Target: the Great Wall's construction era.
Confirmed.
Then—another anomaly struck.
Chapter 038 – Industrial Revolution Arrived 2,000 Years Early?
Once confirmed, her vision should have shifted to a radiant historical image—as though peering through a rainbow-hued soap bubble into mystery.
Indeed, it began to form.
Then—pop. It burst like an actual bubble.
She felt a tug—a subtle jolt, like slamming a car into drive, only to be yanked back.
The mysterious glow vanished.
Her surroundings reappeared—still beside the river at Wujiang.
So… she hadn't moved?
No. She had jumped forward slightly.
The chaotic aftermath of Xiang Yu's collapsing corpse should've greeted her.
But instead—
The portal was intact.
Black-armored soldiers stood guard.
Xiang Yu himself was present.
Wait. This was a moment from before the collapse?
No, Brunhilde's pupils contracted. Something felt off.
Where was Xiang Yu's body?
Only one figure now stood—and it seemed to be the artificial one. The flesh body was gone.
And the crate? The one used to transport the artificial form? Gone too.
This wasn't a rewind. It must've been a forward skip. Had the portal reopened? Had they returned?
Most likely.
"Big sister!"
Lantigris's voice trembled, eyes wide in disbelief. She was staring at something impossible.
Brunhilde turned.
Her gaze fell upon a shadow in her peripheral vision—a dark shape.
It was a ship.
But… why was this shocking?
A ship isn't strange.
Unless—it's a steamship.
Born from the first Industrial Revolution, centuries too early.
And there was more.
Multiple vessels docked at the riverside. Transport ships. Hauling cargo upstream.
"Woo—woo—woo—!"
Not from the ship—but the land.
Following the sound…
A train. A steaming locomotive crossed a bridge over the river.
"Big sister… isn't this the year 202 BCE? Not the eighteenth century?"
Lantigris's voice was dazed.
History was warped.
The Industrial Revolution was happening two millennia early?
Something was definitely wrong.
This anomaly couldn't possibly be hidden from history. Yet no records ever mentioned it.
Utterly bizarre. A chill crept down Lantigris's spine.
She now began to understand her younger sister Gray's earlier terror.
What had she seen?
"Sister…?"
Only now did Lantigris notice Brunhilde's horrified expression. She looked lost. Stunned beyond measure.
Her elder sister—usually calm and resolute—was terrified.
Had she uncovered something even darker?
"Sister!"
Brunhilde's face had gone pale. She trembled. Dazed.
"What's wrong, sister?"
"—I can't access the Akasha System anymore!"
Brunhilde's voice was faint and trembling. That was the reason behind her panic.
When Lantigris had checked the year, Brunhilde realized something terrifying.
She could no longer summon the Akasha interface.
No response. No connection.
It was like being trapped in a virtual game, unable to log out—stuck forever.
"Big sister… I think they can see us!"
Lantigris now noticed something even more terrifying.
The black-armored soldiers—all turned, staring sharply.
Like hunting down assassins—they drew their weapons and surrounded the sisters.
But these weren't blades.
They wielded flintlock rifles.
Of course, against mortals, these would be deadly.
But the sisters were Valkyries—not gods, but demigods. Such weapons posed no threat.
Under normal circumstances.
But this situation…
Especially with a synthetic Xiang Yu.
This had grown far too dangerous.
"Fall back!"
Brunhilde ordered.