Chapter 68

  Adam watched the heavens split apart above him.

  The white peacock clashed with the black tiger, their roars and screeches shaking the forest to its roots.

  Then Adam noticed it — the tiger’s eyes.

  Those same dark-glowing orbs that had haunted him from the shadows.

  “So you’re the one who was watching us…”

  The peacock’s wings flared, unleashing a blinding barrage of light beams that rained down like heavenly spears.

  The tiger met them head-on, its jaws opening wide to form a swirling maw of darkness, devouring the light whole. Each collision erupted into shockwaves that carved trenches through the trees.

  Adam grimaced, shielding his face from the violent gales.

  [I don’t know who’s going to win… but I know one thing—

  whoever does will definitely come after me next.

  I can’t just run. I gotta deal with this now.]

  He leapt onto a nearby cliff edge, edging closer to the chaotic battlefield.

  Both beasts noticed him the instant his aura flared.

  The peacock’s many eyes turned toward him, voice echoing with divine scorn.

  “Puny human… born with the forbidden power of death.

  Disturb us, and death shall find you sooner than fate allows.”

  All the while, it continued fighting, light erupting from its feathers in a blinding storm.

  Adam blinked, taken aback.

  “Oh, so the bird can talk. Nice vocabulary. What about you, kitty—can you talk too?”

  The tiger’s eyes flicked toward him, its voice a deep, growling rumble that rolled through the air.

  “I will deal with you later, monkey. Dealing with him comes first.

  Do not meddle.”

  Adam smirked, stepping back, tone light but dripping with sarcasm.

  “Well, too bad for the both of you—because I’m going to run away right now!

  Catch me if you can, you overgrown prey animals!”

  The insult landed. Both divine beasts froze for a second, their expressions darkening—

  but not enough to chase him while locked in their struggle.

  And before either could respond, Adam vanished.

  From their perspective, he simply blinked out of existence.

  One moment, the human was there. The next—gone without a trace.

  Inside the subspace cube, the chaos of the outside world was nothing more than a muffled echo.

  Adam exhaled, tension still coiled in his shoulders.

  “Cui, how’s Lyne?”

  The spirit’s voice echoed softly through the chamber, calm and composed.

  “I have helped her purify the drug from her system, Master.”

  Adam blinked.

  “Wait—how? That poison wouldn’t budge even with her Qi circulation.”

  “Just as Master purified your own body—by circulating Death Qi within her.”

  Adam’s eyes widened slightly.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “I thought that would put her in danger if I did that.”

  “This artifact is my domain, Master. Here, the laws of the outside world bend slightly. What is impossible beyond these walls can be done within.”

  A grin tugged at Adam’s lips.

  “Cui, you’re proving more and more awesome than you are.”

  “Thank you, Master. However…”

  A viewing panel shimmered to life beside them, revealing the battlefield outside — the peacock and tiger locked in brutal combat.

  “What do you intend to do about them?”

  Adam’s eyes narrowed.

  “I need to touch them both—just once. If I can make physical contact, I can use my memory manipulation on them.”

  He stood still for a moment, a dangerous thought flashing across his face. Then he raised his sword-arm, the metal rippling with condensed Qi.

  [Let’s test a theory…]

  He poured his Metal Qi into the blade, and it reacted violently—

  the sword expanding, stretching outward like liquid steel caught in an explosion, forming a massive, gleaming lance that extended far beyond sight.

  The subspace trembled faintly under the energy.

  “That’ll do.”

  He turned back toward Cui.

  “How long does it take for you to send me back out there?”

  > Cui: “It’s instantaneous, Master… Don’t tell me—”

  Adam’s grin widened, sharp and dangerous.

  “Of course I’m going to impale them both. They don’t see me as a threat—that’ll be their biggest mistake.”

  The viewing panel showed the beasts still locked in their celestial struggle.

  Adam crouched low, ready to strike, eyes gleaming with focused intensity.

  “Now… we wait for the right moment.”

  “I just have to hope their Divine Consciousness isn’t reactive enough.”

  The two colossal beasts tore through sky and shadow, oblivious to anything but their battle. Then—there it was. The perfect alignment. Both the peacock and tiger momentarily crossed the very airspace where Adam had disappeared.

  “Cui—now!”

  In an instant, Adam reappeared in the real world.

  The moment his body materialized, the metal blade erupted outward like a divine javelin.

  Both beasts turned—too late. The blade speared through them. piercing both of them.

  The shock of pain and Qi disruption froze them long enough for Adam to act.

  “Let’s make sure you two forget all about us.”

  Threads of ethereal light spread through the metal and into the beasts’ minds.

  Adam’s consciousness dove into theirs — into the chaotic storms of instinct, memory, and rage.

  He glimpsed flashes of history as he rewrote them:

  The peacock, radiant and cruel, bathing the world in its silver light, spreading that hallucinogenic drug to dominate all daylight creatures (aka being a prick) — even the tiger, its eternal rival of the night.

  The tiger’s hatred burned deep, its purpose forged only to balance that endless light.

  “So that’s the story. A predator of the day, and the wrath of the night.”

  He worked quickly, crafting a new impulse within both minds — a deep disinterest toward him and Lyne.

  They would no longer seek the two humans, nor remember why they fought near this region. Only a vague truce would remain.

  But even as he finished, Adam felt it — a subtle twitch in the threads of thought.

  A faint, almost invisible push against his control.

  His brow furrowed.

  “They’re resisting… already? Damn, their Nascent Souls are fighting back.”

  The resistance grew stronger with every heartbeat, the beasts’ minds trying to repair what he’d altered.

  [The higher their realm, the greater their mental resistance. I can’t keep this up forever. I’ll have to strengthen this power somehow…]

  Then he remembered Zhou Yanyue’s teachings — her lectures about the Dao, how each law of the universe could refine one’s essence.

  “Maybe… I need to comprehend the Dao of Memory itself. Or the Dao of Mind.”

  “Yes. That’s it.”

  His eyes hardened with resolve.

  “Until then… this will have to do.”

  He leapt onto the subdued peacock, now floating in a docile hover under his temporary command.

  Inside, he could feel its mind writhing, trying to break free.

  “Not yet, you glowing chicken…”

  He forced the beast to fly onward.

  Behind him, Lyne, now fully recovered thanks to Cui, joined him atop the peacock’s back.

  For an entire month they flew, the bird held in check only by Adam’s will and constant mental battle.

  Finally, when the oppressive forest fell behind them, the horizon warped—

  a strange shimmer tore through the air ahead.

  A spatial distortion — swirling like liquid glass, humming with otherworldly energy.

  Adam and Lyne exchanged glances.

  “That… doesn’t look natural.”

  “No. But after everything we’ve seen, I’m starting to think ‘natural’ doesn’t mean much anymore.”

  They braced themselves as the air began to ripple.

  The air around them shimmered and twisted like liquid glass. The spatial distortion pulsed faintly, humming in strange rhythms that made the soul itself uneasy.

  Lyne suddenly froze midair, eyes widening as if a memory had just been unlocked.

  “Wait… I might know what that is.”

  Adam steadied the peacock’s unsteady flight, his voice tense.

  “What is it?”

  She gazed at the swirling distortion, the reflection of two suns glinting across its surface.

  “That’s no ordinary anomaly. It’s a world barrier.”

  “A world barrier? As in, another world—different laws of reality and everything?”

  “Yes. Most likely. It separates realms—some are entire worlds, others… prisons for things too dangerous to exist.”

  Adam’s grip on the peacock’s back tightened. The beast was trembling beneath him, its body shuddering with resistance.

  “Should we take a detour then?”

  Adam grimaced.

  “I don’t think that’s an option anymore. I can barely keep this bird under control. The moment it breaks free, it’s going to kill us both.”

  The peacock’s wings spasmed, feathers beginning to glow with a murderous white light.

  “We don’t know what’s beyond that barrier.”

  “True. But staying here guarantees death. Going through might only possibly kill us.”

  They exchanged a glance. There wasn’t anything else to say.

  After a brief silence, Lyne took a breath and nodded.

  “At least we can be sure of one thing—the beast won’t follow us through.”

  Adam gave a wry smile.

  “Good enough for me.”

  Without another word, they leapt from the peacock’s back.

  The beast screeched behind them, wings flaring in rage as the two vanished into the swirling distortion.

  For an instant, their bodies stretched and twisted—light and shadow bending around them—

  and then the world turned inside out.

  They were falling.

  The moment their bodies crossed the barrier, they felt it — reality itself shifting around them, pulling at their cores. Their Qi pathways screamed in protest.

  “The change in laws from world hopping— it’s trying to assimilate us to its rulebook!”

  “The Qi here… it’s different. It doesn’t feel right. It’s not even compatible with our artifacts!”

  Adam tried to summon his flying boots, but the glyphs dimmed instantly — lifeless, as though drained of purpose.

  “I can’t fly now!”

  “Damn it!”

  Their bodies plummeted through the clouds, buffeted by strange, thin air that felt charged yet alien.

  Below, the world spread open in breathtaking color — vast plains rolling into endless mountain ranges, glittering deserts, and kingdoms of unfamiliar design. The scenery looked alive in ways their old world wasn’t—more vivid, almost humming with a different kind of energy.

  “At least… it’s pretty…”

  His voice trailed off as his head pounded. The conversion of laws was tearing through his pathways, rewriting them. Lyne’s vision blurred; her consciousness was slipping.

  The worst part—

  their cultivation wasn’t gone, just locked, compressed by a force beyond understanding.

  Their strength drained by the second. They lost consciousness. They still kept on free falling.

  They crashed through the lower clouds like meteors.

  If it had been their weaker selves, they would’ve died instantly. But though their power had diminished, their bodies—the natural durability of a core formation. The world’s new laws couldn’t rewrite that completely.

  And so, instead of dying, they smashed into the earth with an earth-shaking impact—sending dirt, stone, and grass flying into the air.

  A long silence followed. Only the wind and the rustle of debris answered back.

  Adam’s fingers twitched once.

  Lyne’s breathing came slow, shallow.

  Both unconscious, both alive.

  Above them, the sky shimmered—two suns merging into one.