Chapter 52

  Xiaoyan shook his head. “Shameless.”

  Adam only smirked. “Think about it. Do you really want to waste space in your mind on something like this? Something that won’t affect you in the long run? It’s nothing more than that—a happy little accident.”

  Xiaoyan blinked, a little caught off guard. …Deep words.

  Adam rolled his shoulders, shifting his grip on his sword. “Anyway—it’s my turn now.”

  [I’m nearly depleted. At best, I’ve got one more heal in me. After that… if he keeps pressing this hard, I’m cooked.]

  Xiaoyan snapped his focus back to the fight, forcing every wandering thought from his mind. His perception slowed to a crawl as he searched for the smallest opening in Adam’s movements.

  Adam flash-stepped, sword already mid-swing.

  Xiaoyan dropped low, sweeping his leg out in a sudden strike. Adam lost balance for a heartbeat, and Xiaoyan lunged forward, blade poised to impale him while he was down.

  But in that instant Adam’s body hardened into gleaming metal. The sword struck with a sharp clang, skidding against the steel-like skin.

  “I’m not done yet,” Xiaoyan growled.

  From the tip of his blade, the searing radiance of his condensed sun flared to life once more. The blistering heat began melting through Adam’s metal skin, droplets of molten silver spattering to the ground.

  Sensing the imminent danger, Adam seized Xiaoyan’s leg in an iron grip. Dark energy surged out in a suffocating wave as his Death Aura erupted, gnawing at Xiaoyan’s vitality even as the heat threatened to consume him. Adam pushed it to full drive—determined to drain him before the flames could burn through.

  The blazing sun gnawed through Adam’s metal skin faster than the Death Aura could eat away at Xiaoyan. Half his body was melting, flesh and steel fused in a grotesque sheen. With a grunt of defiance, Adam forced his final burst of healing, knitting himself together in agonizing flashes of light.

  That last push tipped the balance. Xiaoyan’s vitality drained first; his body weakened, his legs buckled, and he collapsed powerless to the floor.

  Adam, scarred and still smoldering in patches, steadied his breathing. He looked at Xiaoyan—who wore a twisted scowl even in defeat.

  “Why the face?” Adam asked, panting.

  “This is so unfair,” Xiaoyan spat, breaking into a small tantrum. “Your healing is just… it’s broken. Way too unfair! Death element, fine, I can deal with that somehow. But that healing—there’s no counter to it!”

  Adam chuckled despite himself. “Well… there’s nothing I can say to that.”

  After a pause, he added, more softly, “The only thing I can say is—don’t let it discourage you. Just see it as something you’ll overcome one day.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Xiaoyan muttered.

  “I’m trying to encourage you, man…” Adam sighed.

  “Just throw me out of the arena already.”

  Adam shrugged, then did exactly that, lifting Xiaoyan and hurling him toward the arena’s edge.

  But just as Xiaoyan cleared the boundary, the arena’s gravity reversed again. His body slammed into the top of a falling cube, and for a brief instant, fear seized his heart. It felt like death itself was about to crush him.

  From below, Adam shouted, “You’re going to be fine! Remember what I told you!”

  Xiaoyan grimaced, remembering those words. With a reluctant breath, he closed his eyes and let himself be swallowed by the impact.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The gamecaster’s voice boomed through the arena. “Victory goes to Adam of the Grand Harmony Sect!” A beat later, his tone dipped dryly: “…and what a vicious thing to say at such a moment.”

  Cheers and murmurs rippled through the crowd as the match ended.

  Adam walked across the fractured platform, the audience still buzzing from the match. His eyes fell on Xiaoyan’s sword, lying embedded in the stone. With a grunt, he pulled it free and hopped down from the arena floor.

  He held the blade up, studying the intricate crimson-grey sheen that seemed to breathe faintly like living fire. A crooked smile tugged at his lips as he whispered through his mind.

  “Hello. You there? We gotta talk.”

  Silence.

  “I know you heard me.”

  More silence.

  Adam frowned, shaking the sword slightly as if that would help. Why are you not answering me?

  His tone sharpened, half-annoyed, half-teasing. “Sword spirit Lune! I am talking to you!”

  The world around him lurched.

  Suddenly, his consciousness was ripped inward, drawn into a vast mental world. The moment his feet touched the manifested ground, an immense weight slammed down on him. His knees buckled, his body flattened, and he fell face-first as if a mountain pressed upon his back.

  A cold voice echoed above him.

  “Call me that again… and I will kill you. Even if you are someone Xiaoyan considers a connection.”

  The pressure intensified, threatening to snap his spine in this mental realm. Adam grit his teeth, his breath shallow, but he forced his head up. Slowly, stubbornly, he raised his eyes to the ethereal woman standing over him—hair like a cascade of moonlight, eyes sharper than a blade.

  Despite the suffocating weight, Adam managed a strained grin.

  “Now that I’ve got your attention,” he rasped, “it’s time to talk.”

  Adam’s usual relaxed demeanor vanished. His gaze hardened, and his tone carried none of its usual levity.

  “Xiaoyan… he’s different now. I know people can change, but what he did out there—” Adam exhaled slowly, brows furrowing. “—that was brutal. Too brutal. What did you feed into him?”

  Lunaria’s expression didn’t flicker. She answered without hesitation, her voice calm but firm.

  “I did nothing of that sort. Though…” Her eyes narrowed, almost in thought. “I did agree with what he did. But make no mistake—I had no hand in it.”

  A pause lingered between them, heavy with unspoken weight.

  Then Lunaria’s tone shifted, cool yet measured, as though explaining something obvious Adam had overlooked.

  “You have to understand… power doesn’t change someone into what they are not. It merely gives them room to reveal more of themselves. With strength comes freedom—the freedom to ignore consequence. My disciple was, and is, still my disciple.”

  Her lips curved ever so slightly, the faintest glimmer of pride surfacing in her otherwise steady voice.

  “What you saw wasn’t me twisting him. It was him… finally comfortable enough to show more of who he already was.”

  Adam had nothing left to say. His lips pressed shut, his usual quips failing him.

  Lunaria, however, wasn’t finished. Her gaze fixed on him, sharp and unwavering.

  “You’re being reckless. Using your ability so blatantly.”

  Adam gave a faint shrug, trying to sound casual though her words hit deeper than he let on.

  “Relax. My ability is undetectable to others.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “Undetectable doesn’t mean inference-proof. Keen eyes can connect the dots, Adam. It won’t take much for someone clever enough to guess what you’re hiding.”

  Adam exhaled through his nose, nodding once.

  “I understand. I’ll be more careful with it.”

  Lunaria’s tone softened slightly, but she didn’t linger. Instead, her attention shifted upward, her expression distant.

  “Then tell me… where exactly did you get that ability from?”

  Adam hesitated, brows knitting together. He weighed his words before answering.

  “…He didn’t say it had to be a secret. So—fine. I got this from a blessing ritual. The entity that answered was Zayk. Maybe known in the upper realms as… the Two-Faced God.”

  For the first time, Lunaria’s composure cracked. Her eyes narrowed, the weight of recognition flashing across her face.

  “Him… huh.”

  Adam tilted his head, curious.

  “So, he is known up there?”

  “Not much—only whispers. Of how he drew infamy for destroying a great sect of an Earth Deity. They say he wiped out multiple Mahayana experts and millions of cultivators. A few thousand years after joining them, he vanished completely.”

  Her voice grew quieter, more distant, as she continued to gaze upward.

  “That was millions of years ago. I don’t know what he has become now.”

  Adam stared at her, caught off guard by how casually she recounted such mass slaughter. His own gut twisted at the scale of death she described. But as he studied her expression—utterly calm, almost indifferent—he realized something.

  For an immortal, the weight of millions meant something very different than it did for him.

  Adam’s eyes lingered on Lunaria for a long moment before he asked, almost casually:

  “So… how old are you, really?”

  Lunaria’s lips curved faintly, but her reply carried no vanity—only fact.

  “Once you reach the Earth Deity Realm, age becomes meaningless. You are practically immortal. You will not die unless your soul itself is destroyed.”

  Adam blinked.

  “Wait. Isn’t that… the final realm? Isn’t cultivation supposed to be about reaching immortality?”

  Lunaria tilted her head, her gaze sharpening.

  “Who told you that?”

  Adam scratched his cheek sheepishly.

  “I just… thought it was.”

  Lunaria let out a quiet, humorless chuckle.

  “Then you are wrong. Immortality is not the end goal of cultivation. It is only a step.”

  She leaned closer, her voice dropping into something colder, heavier.

  “The true goal is to become eternal. To exist unbound by laws, unshackled by the heavens themselves. To be absolute. To become… GOD. Not a mere ‘god’—” her tone dripped with disdain at the lowercase title, “—but a bona fide GOD.”

  The words struck Adam like thunder.

  “Compared to that, immortality is nothing. Easier to reach, certainly. But true godhood? That… is something else entirely.”

  Adam stood in silence, still awed by Lunaria’s words.

  “If there is nothing else… let us meet face to face next time.”

  In the next instant, Adam was yanked out of the mind world. For the audience outside, not even a blink had passed.

  He glanced down at the sword in his hand. When the worker approached, Adam leaned closer and whispered, “Return this to its owner.” He pressed the weapon into the worker’s hands before letting go.

  As he pulled back, Adam noticed his palms—burnt raw where the sword had made contact. He turned his hands slowly, the skin cracked and smoldered, then muttered under his breath:

  [Become a God, huh…]

  ---

  The scene shifted.

  Lan Xiaoyan woke with a start in the emergency ward. Ji Yue stood beside his bed, arms folded.

  “You lost. Afterward, the formation pulled you out. Injuries: broken nose, collarbone, a few ribs. You’re lucky—that’s all easily healable. Better than losing a limb. Rest for now.”

  Xiaoyan’s eyes darted around. To his side, Mu Qingli and Li Fan stood watch.

  “I… thought I was dead.”

  Mu & Li Fan together “We thought the same.”

  A worker arrived soon after, holding out his sword.

  “Adam told me to return this to you.”

  Xiaoyan gripped the weapon tightly, watching the worker walk away. His mind churned.

  “Lunaria… did y

  ou know about this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because if I did… you might have grown lax. Lost your edge.”

  Xiaoyan fell silent, his knuckles tightening around the hilt.

  [Then how did Adam know…?]