As the Dao itself flooded down from the figure in the sky, the crowd realized the truth. To pass beyond Qi Refinement was to become Dao incarnate, to gain lifespans not of centuries, but of millennia.
And now, right before their eyes—
A Foundation Realm expert had arrived.
Shi Yang's vision blurred, blood filling his throat. He staggered as he stared upward, unable to believe the sight before him. Xiu Mei?
The silhouette, wreathed in flowing oceanic light, was unmistakable. The currents of water that clung to her form shifted and rippled like the tides themselves, overflowing with newly forged Dao resonance.
How could she have already faced her tribulation this fast…?
The crowd shivered as the water around her descended, crashing like a tidal wave against the stitched abomination that had struck Shi Yang. Yet, the creature did not crumble. Its steps dragged like rusted chains across the flooded street, and in its eyes—behind the stitched mask of hands and fingers—burned a malevolent awareness.
A Foundation Realm aura clashed with another.
"Impossible…" Han Jie's lips trembled as she stared at the thing. She could feel it—the resonance, crude and unrefined, but undeniably close to the same threshold Xiu Mei had just crossed.
The stitched horror laughed, its voice a garbled mesh of countless others. "A hatchling fresh from her tribulation dares to call herself Dao incarnate?" Its fists rose, the flesh of its arms writhing, bones snapping into jagged shapes. "I'll devour you—and with your Dao, I'll ascend completely."
Xiu Mei's gaze sharpened. She raised her hand, and the sea answered. Countless streams of water spun upward, condensing into a massive serpent of liquid that coiled around her figure, fangs dripping with Dao-infused might.
The two forces collided—oceanic serpent against stitched flesh. The street buckled, windows shattered, and the city district quaked beneath their clash.
Meanwhile—
Han Jie's chest heaved as she staggered back, her meridians still throbbing from overexertion. The man she had struck away earlier—the vengeful swordsman with the Hungry Lion Sabers—rose again from the shattered street. His robes hung in tatters, blood dripping from his mouth, but his eyes burned with unrelenting hatred.
"You think thunder can finish me, wench?!" he spat, crossing his sabers again. "I'll carve your body into pieces to honor my brothers!"
Han Jie grit her teeth, sweat streaming down her temples. Her reserves were running dry, but her grip tightened on her daggers nonetheless.
Above, thunderclouds still churned faintly from her formation. She raised her arms again, lightning dancing faintly across her skin. "Then come!" she roared, refusing to step back.
The district had split into two battlefields: one of gods, where Dao clashed against Dao, shaking the heavens themselves—and one of mortals, where blood, grit, and desperation would decide who survived.
The stitched horror's fist slammed into the watery serpent, shattering its coils into torrents that crashed into the street below. Steam hissed as droplets burned against the abomination's skin, but the creature only laughed, its arms flexing with unnatural strength.
"Is this the strength of a newborn Foundation cultivator?!" its chorus of voices mocked. "Pathetic!"
Xiu Mei's eyes narrowed, her breath steady despite the blood at the corner of her lips. She flicked her wrist, and the shattered water reformed—streams racing back to her side, gathering into a surging tide. Each gesture carried the raw authority of someone who had just broken their chains, but her control wavered. Every clash sent shocks through her body, every strain on her meridians a reminder that her breakthrough was still unsteady.
The horror leapt, tearing through the serpent with sheer brute force. Its fist blazed with ghostly Qi, a hundred whispering mouths screaming from its stitched armor. The blow came straight for her chest—
She raised her palm.
The ocean roared. A barrier of condensed water burst upward, thicker than steel. The fist struck—shattering half the barrier—but not before the backlash flung the stitched abomination through the wall of a nearby store. Dust and splinters exploded outward as half the building collapsed under its weight.
Xiu Mei coughed, her face pale. "I won't… let you devour him."
On the ground below, Han Jie's breath came ragged. Sparks still danced faintly across her arms, her meridians screaming in pain, but she refused to collapse.
The saber wielder's form blurred, his technique driving him into a whirl of crimson light.
"Hungry Lion Sabers—Second Fang!"
The air itself split as he charged, twin blades howling with fiery Qi. The image of another lioness formed, larger, hungrier, its mane made of flame and its fangs dripping with killing intent.
Han Jie's body trembled, but her eyes did not flinch. Her fingers tightened on her daggers, and she slammed them together, igniting the faint remnants of her thunder formation.
"Thunder Strikes—Second Descent!"
A pillar of golden lightning erupted from the heavens, crashing between them. The lioness roared, colliding with the thunder. The street split open, stone tiles exploding outward.
Han Jie's knees buckled, blood dripping from her lips, but the saber wielder was forced back again—his skin scorched, his hair singed. He growled, but the fire in his eyes had not dimmed.
"You're running on fumes!" he spat, sabers raised once more. "One more strike, and you'll be mine!"
Han Jie exhaled sharply, her vision dimming, but she whispered to herself, Shi Yang… I won't let them touch you.
Shi Yang lay collapsed in the corner, chest heaving, every breath wet with blood. His vision swam in a haze of blue light from Xiu Mei above and golden flashes from Han Jie below.
Two battlefields. Two women standing against death itself.
His hand twitched. His broken sword lay in fragments beside him. Through blurred eyes, he forced his breath into rhythm, refusing to let go.
Not like this…
And then—he saw it. His reflection in a shattered window. But the waterfall he once meditated on was no longer clear. It ran red, thick, heavy, dragging everything into its bloody current.
Shi Yang's eyes widened. The Dao stirred.
Meanwhile, the stitched horror burst free from the ruined store, its wounds knitting back together, its aura swelling like a storm.
Xiu Mei's face darkened. She steadied herself, gathering water at her side—but the pressure of his rising Qi made her heart pound.
He's… he's really on the edge of breaking through…!
If he did, her newborn Foundation would not be enough.
At the same moment, Han Jie's daggers trembled in her grip. The saber wielder's aura spiked, his lioness blazing brighter, tearing through the remnants of her thunder formation.
Two enemies—both pressing to end it.
And in that instant, the blood-red Dao in Shi Yang's reflection began to ripple.
I need to do something… His vision warped, flooded with red. His senses dulled, replaced by something else entirely. The fight blurred from his sight, replaced by flashes—
A knife.The wind screaming.A pull against something unseen.
His thoughts spun, a kaleidoscope of disjointed fragments—bare skin under moonlight, the soft brush of breath against his ear, a voice whispering "Again… don't stop…" as nails dragged across his back. A girl's moan echoed in his head, haunting and wet with longing:
"Mmm… Yin Shi… deeper… yes, like that…"
Then—silence.
He looked up. Nobody moved. Time itself seemed frozen, though he felt every breath, every heartbeat, every pulse of Qi. Even Xiu Mei's aura, moments ago overflowing, faltered as though unable to receive orders.
What's happening? His thoughts spun, but he didn't stop. Slowly, his fingers curled around the handle of his broken blade.
I need to do something.
He staggered toward Han Jie's fight, his steps unsteady. Her attacker hung frozen in mid-strike. Shi Yang raised his fragment of steel and pressed it across the man's throat.
Riiip.
The blade tore slowly, blood spilling over his hands. The man's eyes widened in horror, locked onto Shi Yang's—and in those eyes, reflected, he saw it.
A vulture.
It perched on the his shoulders, talons digging deep. From its beak dangled countless bloody threads, each one pulling tight.
I… That… Why… they're… frozen…
The bird flapped its wings, lifting the his weightless body, before turning its head toward Xiu Mei's battle. Shi Yang willed it forward. He didn't know how, but his intent flowed into it, commanding its flight.
But intent alone could not mend torn flesh. His body gave way, collapsing sideways. The reflection fractured, the bird dissolved into nothing.
The last thing he heard were gasps and pounding footsteps as rogue cultivators fled, realizing they had stumbled into the clash of powerhouses far beyond them.
"Uncle Shi…!"
Xiu Mei's voice rang out, heavy with despair. Her Dao flared, shifting violently, and an immense iron hammer materialized above her. With a roar, she brought it down upon the stitched abomination, the street shaking beneath the blow.
Their fight reached its climax—while Han Jie fell to Shi Yang's side. Her trembling hands tore open his robes. Her lips moved in a frantic whisper as she pierced needles into his throat, shoulders, and heart, her fingers barely steady.
Then, with shaking hands, she flicked her daggers and coated the blades with liquid from a tiny vial. Her eyes blurred with tears as she drew the edge down his chest, slicing from neck to stomach with surgical precision. Flesh parted, blood spilling freely.
She prayed she wasn't too late.