Chapter Fifty-Four: The Marvel Version of the Twin Sala Trees

The place where the Supreme Sorcerer, the Ancient One, resided was on a desolate, uninhabited island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.

This island was just one among countless barren isles in the Pacific, unremarkable in every way. If it possessed any distinguishing feature, it was the patch of natural grassland at its heart, upon which Yang Xin had planted two sacred trees. These two divine trees stood very close together.

At this moment, the Supreme Sorcerer sat cross-legged between the two sacred trees, eyes closed in serene meditation. Her expression was peaceful, as if having seen through the world’s affairs and abandoned all desire. A faint golden halo shimmered behind her head.

A gentle rain began to fall from the sky, its pure drops cleansing the island, as if silently washing away the dust from Yang Xin’s soul.

“Buddha!” This was Yang Xin’s first thought.

“You have come,” the Supreme Sorcerer said calmly, her eyes still closed.

“I have come… Should I not have?” Yang Xin blinked uncertainly, thinking to himself, “This dialogue sounds so familiar.”

“But you are already here.” The Ancient One’s expression was as tranquil as an undisturbed ancient well.

Yang Xin’s lips twitched, conflicted. He wondered if he should say, “Would it be alright if I just left an arm behind?”

Fortunately, the Ancient One’s next words spared Yang Xin further inner turmoil.

“Do you wish to understand the meaning of life? Do you truly want to live?” the Supreme Sorcerer asked once more.

Yang Xin blinked again. Though no longer conflicted, he felt a vague discomfort. How should one answer? Should he tell the Ancient One that this very line had founded a literary school, or even a power system called the ‘Gene Lock’?

“Neither cruelty nor manipulation exists; neither justice nor evil… For all sentient beings, there is only one meaning: if you do not wish to die, then surpass yourself and evolve endlessly?” Yang Xin finally replied after much hesitation.

“The meaning of life does not reside in self-accomplishment. Only death can bestow value upon life. It is only in the face of death that people realize how fleeting existence is.

When death comes, it gives life meaning, making you aware that time is short, your days numbered. Do you think I am prepared to greet death?

Yet, you will find that I long to extend this moment indefinitely, so I might savor this beautiful snowfall.”

As the Ancient One spoke, the gentle rain transformed into drifting snowflakes…

Though Yang Xin did not fully grasp her meaning, he sensed a will toward death—which was not good. The Ancient One must not die at this stage; she was his trump card against Thanos.

“Wait, Master, I have a different understanding about life and death,” Yang Xin said hurriedly.

“Oh?” For the first time, the Ancient One’s placid expression showed a hint of curiosity.

“Master, please open your eyes. I need to set the stage for my interpretation.” Yang Xin said again.

Perhaps it was her devotion to philosophical discourse, or perhaps Yang Xin’s words piqued her interest—or perhaps she simply wished to see him one last time—the Ancient One finally opened her eyes.

“Multiple Shadow Clone Technique!” Yang Xin rapidly formed seals, creating four shadow clones.

“Transformation Technique!”

Two clones transformed into sal trees; one became Virgo Shaka, the Gold Saint of the Zodiac; the last took the form of Buddha.

Yang Xin was recreating the classic scene beneath the twin sal trees, where Shaka converses with Buddha.

He sat beside the Ancient One in his real body, first introducing her to the world and general plot of “Saint Seiya,” then signaled the clones to begin the famous scene from the “Hades Chapter: Sanctuary.”

A ruined temple, a young Shaka, a towering Buddha, petals drifting into water and spreading ripples—Yang Xin conjured all this with illusion magic, crafting a beautiful tableau to immerse the Ancient One fully. She did not resist; instead, she opened her heart and allowed the illusion to draw her in.

Buddha: “Shaka, dear Shaka, what makes you so sad? You are only six years old, yet you sit here every day, troubled. What weighs so heavily on your young mind?”

Shaka: “Today, I saw yet again several corpses floating in the Gandaki River, and on the banks were many pilgrims from across India bathing. From their expressions, it seemed not a quest for life, but a yearning for death. Why is the country of my birth so poor? Were people born into this world only to suffer?”

Buddha: “Is that why you are sad, Shaka?”

Shaka: “Of course. Who would wish for a life filled only with suffering?”

Buddha: “That is not so. Because there is suffering, joy must also exist; and vice versa. Beautiful flowers bloom, but one day they must wither. In this world, life never stands still for even a moment. It is constantly moving, transforming. This is impermanence. So it is with the life of a person.”

Shaka: “But in the end, there is only death… Doesn’t that mean life is ruled by sorrow? Whether we overcome pain or pursue love and joy, death reduces all to nothingness. Why, then, do people live? To struggle against death is impossible.”

Buddha: “Shaka! Have you forgotten?”

Shaka: “I have forgotten…”

At this, the scene shifted. The ruined temple became a grove of sal trees with petals swirling in the air. From the distance came the triumphant, threefold battle cry: “Athena Exclamation!”

A force rivaling the Big Bang crashed forth. The golden radiance around Shaka was blasted away…

Shaka: “The blossoms of the sal trees… have they too withered?”

The scene changed again to a resplendent temple, where the six-year-old Shaka sat quietly on the floor.

Buddha: “Shaka, you have forgotten…”

Shaka: “I have forgotten…”

Buddha: “Death is not the end of everything. Even death is but a transformation.”

Buddha: “Shaka, dear Shaka, you must never forget: death is never the final end… The saints who once lived in this world all transcended death’s domain. If you can grasp this truth, Shaka, you too will become the one closest to god.”

As this classic scene unfolded before her, the snow in the sky turned into a shower of sal tree petals. The Ancient One closed her eyes once more.

Gradually, her breathing ceased… The vital energy upon her body dispersed into the world. The petals, once swirling in the air, settled softly to the ground. Even the faint connection between the sacred saplings nearly vanished.

“Master!” Yang Xin cried out in alarm, overwhelmed by regret. “Did I make things worse?”

He remained seated in meditation, waiting. Three days passed. The Ancient One’s breath and presence had entirely vanished. If not for the last faint link between the sacred saplings, Yang Xin would have believed she was truly gone.

And today, that final thread of connection suddenly snapped.

“Master!” Yang Xin called out once more. He waited for a long time but could no longer sense the Ancient One’s presence. He could not suppress a long sigh: “A master for a day is a master for life. Since this was your choice, Master, I can only respect it. Rest here, between the sacred trees…”

Yang Xin bowed deeply to the Ancient One, paying his disciple’s respects, and then turned to leave. He did not use a portal, but walked away, step by step.

As he walked, he spoke:

“The flowers bloom, and then they wither. The stars shine bright, but their light will also fade. This earth, this sun, the entire Milky Way, and even the universe itself, will one day meet their end.

A human life, compared to these, is but a fleeting instant.

In this brief moment, people are born, they laugh, they cry, they fight, hurt, rejoice, grieve, hate, and love. All are but encounters in an instant, destined finally to return to eternal slumber…”

As Yang Xin’s words faded, the petals that had fallen three days before began to stir upon the ground, though there was no wind. Behind him, a voice sounded:

“A! La! Ya! Consciousness!”