The Fourth-Order New Human's surroundings hissed as Chen Xiao's attack took hold. Space itself split into countless shard-like blades of water that sliced the monster into a red, steaming mess. Still it didn't retreat—raising its massive hammer, it swung again. Chen Xiao called the Bright Lamp to his side; the lamp drank the hammer's force like a sponge, nullifying the blow.
Then Chen Xiao rode the Divine Wind, cyan-halberd in hand. With a single, terrible crash the blade drove through the creature from skull to floor—no chance to recover.
He felt nothing in the kill. These Fourth-Order monsters were the appetizers. Outside the base they were terrifying; here they were simply the opening act. How many more would come, nobody knew.
Seconds later the third opponent crawled up: a three-meter-tall, octopus-like horror. Its flesh writhed with hundreds of human faces—some smiling, some weeping, some frozen in rage. The sight set the skin on edge; this was an "Abnormality," and those things always carried slaughter. When the faces fixed on him, static rules snapped into place. Time thickened; a rule froze the air.
Chen Xiao's jaw tightened. He flicked the Bright Lamp's second function and negated the rule, then sprang back like a river unbound. He sucked stamina from the Mountain and River Map and stopped holding back. Flashing forward on Divine Wind, he manifested the Water Long Saber and,喊出一声 full-power, cleaved the abomination clean in two. That cut combined Tyrannosaur strength and the Black Goat bloodline—its blade force was incalculable.
The fourth monster was a blur of speed; the fifth a laughing, misty thing whose presence was invisible—both were felled without much fuss. By the sixth through eighth waves the creatures grew stranger and more dangerous. Chen Xiao felt the strain; the onslaught was taking a toll. He sensed—worryingly—that A Yao and Cao Linxuan might already be down. These things were stronger than typical human awakens.
The ninth apparition shattered his composure: it was a perfect clone of Chen Xiao, wearing his black jacket, grinning with a hunger that should not have been there. It had some of his talents—Dragonization among them—and it used Dragon's Breath to sniff out invisibility. Scales crawled over its skin as it lunged; his reflexes flared into his strongest mode.
The two Chens traded brutal, unleashed blows that shredded the corridor. The clone fought like a relentless automaton—immune to fatigue and pain, a rule-forged puppet. Their clash wrecked the surroundings; Chen Xiao staggered, his arm trembling from the impact. The clone fared worse—both arms ruptured, half its torso blown open. Chen Xiao finally exploded its skull at enhanced speed, deactivated his Tyrannosaur armor, rinsed his hands with All Things Water, and moved on.
He thought the first stage, Ghost Gate, might finally be over—then another figure stepped out of the dark.
At first glance it was unremarkable: average height, ordinary features—nothing to mark it out. But Dragon's Breath painted dense swarms of energy converging on it. Chen Xiao's chest tightened. This presence was unlike anything he'd seen: a Fifth-Order New Human. Impossible for this early apocalypse.
Before his mind finished processing, the figure did something even more shocking: it didn't walk. It teleported—right to Chen Xiao's face.