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I traveled to Douluo Continent, my martial soul was the star, and my ability was prophecy. But every time I peek into the future, it burns my already weak life. I don't have Tang San's twin martial souls, and I don't have Qian Renxue's innate full soul power. I can't even condense the simplest soul skill. In a world where the strong are respected, I am just an expensive and fragile object enshrined at the highest point of the Spirit Hall. They call me "Prophet", they call me "Holy Son", they call me "Eye of the Empire". Only Qian Renxue called me by my real name when no one was around, and silently wiped away the blood after I coughed up blood. She said: "Xinglan, don't die. Your life is mine." I do live for her. I use my life as a bargaining chip to predict every assassination for her and pave the way to the throne. At the cost of my soul, I deciphered the riddles of the divine test for her and cleared the thorns on the road to becoming a god. I spent all my future to deduce the chess game of the mainland for her, looking for a glimmer of hope in the gap between the angelic light and the Poseidon Trident. They thought that what I saw was only personal life and death, the victory or defeat of battles. Until before Jialing Pass, I will present the blood-stained prophecy of the end: "Your Majesty, if we win this battle, the continent will collapse, foreign enemies will come, and no civilization will survive." "If this war ends in peace, the throne of God may be lost and the empire may decline, but the fire will still be there and the future can be expected." At that time, I could no longer see the dawn of tomorrow. The final strength was just enough for me to make a silent mouth gesture to her amidst the roar of the divine battle: "Choose the future, not victory."