A long and arduous journey unfolded before Aji Bagaskara. He walked endlessly, encountering countless forms of wildlife, yet never a single human soul. At every rest stop and campsite, Aji dedicated himself to rigorous martial cultivation, constantly refining and expanding his parameters. Whenever the raw kinetic damage of his training pulverized the landscape, the natural environment possessed an autonomous restorative property, slowly healing itself over time.

For instance, when a mountain was shattered by a stray combat strike, the fractured stone and displaced earth would gradually realign, returning the peak to its original form after a few days.

When a coastal tempest conjured a catastrophic tsunami that swallowed the shorelines, the ocean would recede and settle back into quiet equilibrium. Initially, Aji felt as though he were trapped inside an impossible fairytale, but as the decades passed, he grew accustomed to the surreal laws of the glass dimension and resumed his endless march toward the edge of the world.

That single mandate was all he retained from his fallen comrade Yonan: find the edge of the world. Aji knew he had to reach that boundary sooner or later, and he pressed forward while mastering his martial arts with absolute diligence, preparing for the inevitable day he would face Lord Demon Shura.

Unrolling the sacred scroll left behind by Yonan, Aji began studying the foundational principles of a Tier-9 spellcaster. Yonan had achieved the absolute pinnacle of spellcraft, mastering spatial manipulation and offensive arrays through the perfect integration of natural mana. He commanded eight spiritual circles, possessing the capacity to absorb atmospheric parameters and convert them into fuel for his own core.

From the second scroll—secretly sewn into the inner lining of his tunic by Ganada—Aji unlocked an entirely distinct combat profile: supreme velocity paired with high-yield, instantaneous strikes. It was a movement discipline so absolute it defied ordinary perception, allowing a grandmaster to stand entirely motionless while their invisible strikes had already pulverized their target. It was a state of motion disguised as stillness, capable of eliminating foes in the blink of an eye without leaving a trace of movement.

Aji trained without rest—it was the sole purpose left to him as he traversed the boundless expanse of the Mirror World. Loneliness and deep, lingering grief for his two fallen brothers gnawed at his core, yet he continually reinforced his resolve, refusing to yield to despair no matter how harsh the environment became.

On occasion, Aji utilized advanced spellcasting to manifest energy constructs modeled after Yonan and Ganada, bringing them along on his travels and training sessions. At the very least, their presence served to soothe the crushing isolation that weighed upon his soul.

There were times when he found himself conversing aloud with those spectral constructs, fully aware he was merely speaking to himself.

He endured a grueling pilgrimage, trekking thousands of miles across barren wastelands, constructing primitive timber watercraft to cross endless oceans, traversing scorching deserts, and surviving freezing polar gales.

He never lost faith. Though the edge of the world failed to materialize across years of unbroken travel, he held absolute trust in one immutable truth: his brother Yonan had never lied to him. The boundary had to exist—it was the sole structural bridge connecting the Mirror World to the physical plane.

During their final moments together, Yonan had also entrusted him with a deeply personal mandate concerning his infant granddaughter, Alicia. Yonan had whispered his final request: Should I fail to survive the clash against the Demon Lord, tell Alicia that her grandfather loved her beyond measure. It is because of that love that I must make this ultimate sacrifice, to forge a safe, secure world where my granddaughter can grow without fear.

Yonan’s struggle had been waged for the future of his bloodline. If Lord Demon Shura seized absolute dominion, the world would be plunged into permanent, irreversible ruin. Thus, before the Demon Lord reached the absolute zenith of his assimilation with the Blood Supreme, the Three Legends were bound by duty to complete their mission and crush Shura's grand design.

Aji had sworn an oath to find Alicia and deliver Yonan’s final words. Yet his overarching duty remained clear: finish the unfinished work of the Three Legends and permanently neutralize the threat of Lord Demon Shura. He vowed never to display weakness again, refusing to be manipulated by the corrupted sovereign—a companion with whom he had once shared his childhood and trained under a single roof.

Greed and a radical delusion of absolute peace had blinded Shura, corrupting his mind to the point where he had murdered their master in cold blood.

Years bled into one another, yet Aji pressed forward, relentless in his pursuit of the world's edge. He dedicated himself to synthesizing his training, merging the physical decimation of a warrior, the spatial spellcasting of a grandmaster, and the blinding velocity of an assassin into a singular, unified combat profile. When the day of reckoning arrived, he would face the dark host wielding the combined spiritual might of the Three Legends in its entirety.

That day was approaching. The parameters he had accumulated would ensure Shura could never rise again. He prepared himself for the final confrontation at the end of his endless pilgrimage: the boundary of the world.

Every night as he slept, vivid dreams of Ganada and Yonan visited his mind. Those spectral visions fueled his burning determination to carry out their legacy, vowing to eventually track down their surviving families, deliver the news of their noble sacrifices, and pass down their supreme inheritances.

Day and night blurred into a continuous cycle of endurance. Aji trained without pause, squeezing every remaining hour out of each day to eliminate idle rest. He mastered Ganada’s velocity, internalized Yonan’s elemental mastery, and perfected the art of spatial portal manipulation.

Yet, no matter how many times he attempted to cast a spatial portal inside the Mirror World, his gates failed to pierce the structural veil back to the physical plane. He ran trial after trial, only to experience repeated failure.

Shifting his focus, Aji returned to his physical conditioning and resumed his solitary trek. After twenty consecutive years of tireless travel and unyielding cultivation, he finally arrived at a vast, turbulent ocean whose currents funneled directly into a massive subterranean sea cave.

The cavern possessed an unearthly architecture, resembling a colossal natural portal opening along the coastal cliffs. The cave radiated a dense, ancient parameter density so overwhelming that Aji felt an intuitive certainty: this glowing cavern was the dimensional gateway he had sought across two decades.

He approached the mouth of the cave. Beneath the archway flowed a crystalline stream of water, so immaculate and transparent that it defied description, shining with an ethereal, mesmerizing clarity. Aji paused at the water's edge, glancing down to catch his reflection in the pristine stream.

The face staring back at him belonged to an aged wanderer. His beard hung long and unkempt down his chest, his skin was deeply lined with wrinkles, and his long white hair was bound tightly behind his neck.

Bearing a physical vessel worn down by decades of age, can I truly cross the Mirror World boundary and return to reality? Furthermore, how can I hope to engage Shura in combat while trapped in such a physically degraded state?

"You need not worry, child of humanity."

A calm voice shattered the silence. The sound startled Aji—not because it lacked human cadence, but because across twenty years of solitary travel, he had never encountered another living soul in the glass dimension. Where did that voice originate?

Aji whipped his head around. Seated upon a large, perfectly round boulder nearby sat a serene figure clad in pristine white robes, resting a short wooden staff across his knees. The man gazed out toward the open ocean with an expression of profound, unshakeable tranquility.

Who is he?

"If I may be so bold... who are you?" Aji asked, refusing to let the opportunity slip away. At long last, he stood before another conscious entity—someone who could finally answer his questions regarding the edge of the world.

The middle-aged man in white turned his head, offering a gentle, welcoming smile as he looked upon Aji’s weathered face. "I am the keeper of this realm. I am the guardian tasked with watching over the living pulse of the Mirror World."

It is true! Human existence was not entirely absent from this realm. If this entity guarded the dimension, he undoubtedly possessed knowledge of the path back to Aji’s native reality.

"I... I wish to ask you a question, sir," Aji pressed forward, stepping closer. "If you are the keeper of this world, where is the edge of the world? I must return to my reality—countless lives depend on my return!"

The white-robed man maintained his calm gaze. "This cavern marks the absolute boundary of the world. A high-tier sealing barrier separates your native plane from the Mirror World. Tell me, traveler... what is your ultimate purpose in returning to your world?"

Aji locked eyes with the guardian. "I... I must stop Shura. That is all."

Rising smoothly from his boulder, the white-robed man stepped forward. He moved with supernatural grace, walking upon the open air as though treading on solid stone, descending gently to land beside Aji at the crystal stream's edge.

"I have awaited your arrival for a very long time," the guardian said softly. "Your righteous purpose is blessed by the heavens. You shall be permitted to cross the threshold and return to your plane. Before you lies the final partition between your reality and this mirror dimension. You have endured a harrowing pilgrimage with absolute conviction and unbreakable fortitude. Go forth and fulfill your sacred duty!"

Aji’s eyes widened. I have been expected here? If this entity possessed such profound awareness, he was likely a celestial guardian or a divine warden of the dimensions.

"I am deeply grateful, sir! I must depart immediately, before the dark forces consume my world!" Aji bowed respectfully, turning his heel toward the glowing tunnel leading into the cavern's depths.

"Hold a moment, traveler!"

Aji halted instantly, spinning back around.

The white-robed man approached him, stopping at the edge of the crystalline stream. Reaching into the inner fold of his white robes, he produced a small, translucent vessel, dipping it into the flowing stream to scoop up a sample of the pristine water. He extended the vessel toward Aji.

"Drink. You will require renewed parameters to confront the gathering darkness of your world."

Aji hesitated for a fraction of a second before accepting the vessel and drinking the water. The moment the liquid touched his lips, his acute fatigue vanished entirely, replaced by an intoxicating surge of pristine vitality that flooded his core.

"Go now, mortal," the guardian instructed, gesturing toward the glowing dimensional portal shimmering deep within the cavern. "Once your mission is fulfilled, a choice awaits you: you may remain among the living, or choose to return permanently to this realm. For this is the Water of Life, and I am its eternal custodian. Make your final decision only after your task is complete."

"But—"

Before Aji could complete his sentence, the white-robed man vanished into thin air. There was zero trace of his presence remaining. The guardian of the Water of Life? Shaking his head, Aji stepped across the smooth stones toward the dimensional archway, stepping through the light with a silent prayer that he would emerge directly into the physical plane where Shura awaited him.

SPLASH!

Stepping through the dimensional threshold, Aji emerged into a dense, sprawling forest.

As he walked past the treeline into an open clearing, a small rural village came into view. Looking down at his hands, Aji gasped in sheer disbelief.

The weathered, wrinkled skin of an old man was gone. His hands were smooth, firm, and youthful—the hands of a twenty-five-year-old man in his absolute prime!

Reaching up with trembling fingers, Aji touched his face. His long white beard and deep wrinkles had vanished entirely, replaced by the sharp, unblemished features of his youth.

What has happened to my physical vessel?! Aji stood frozen in stunned silence, staring at his reflection in a nearby puddle, utterly bewildered by the sudden miracle.