Chapter 155

Chapter 155: Star-Breaking Realm

The Star-Breaking Realm was supposed to multiply a cultivator’s strength tenfold.

For Wang Jie, it had multiplied it by dozens.

The Heaven-Reversed Ten Seals were the main reason. The moment he broke through, it felt as if he’d gained nearly half his former strength all at once—an absurd leap.

Before, sheer physical power had been enough for him to beat down Full-Star Realm experts. Now he should be able to batter a Roaming-Star Realm expert.

A normal Roaming-Star Realm’s strength value was just over a hundred.

And that “strength” was pure bodily power, not cultivated power.

A Roaming-Star Realm’s cultivated power surpassed a Full-Star Realm’s by entire tiers, but the gap between their bodies wasn’t nearly as dramatic. The real difference was that Wang Jie’s own body had become outrageously strong.

He didn’t even know how he’d ended up on this path.

Then there was qi.

He raised his arms and felt the current within him. It was ten times what it had been.

Not ten times compared to anyone else—ten times his own previous qi.

That was ridiculous, too.

He hadn’t even trained qi on purpose.

Why had it surged like this?

If he couldn’t understand it, he’d stop thinking about it for now.

Then it hit him, and his expression changed.

Bone-Motion Art. One of its required materials: a star-breaking count.

But he was already in the Star-Breaking Realm. How was he supposed to get a star-breaking count now?

Trouble.

He checked his field anyway, hoping for a loophole. There wasn’t one. The requirement hadn’t changed; it still demanded a star-breaking count.

Was he supposed to give it up?

No.

Bone-Motion Art required five different materials and was comparable to the Myriad-Stars Finger Art. More importantly, it came from the Power-Storing Method—a force that drove the body itself, entirely different from the Myriad-Stars Finger Art. He couldn’t bear to abandon it.

He would find another way.

As for Scripture Viewing, he still hadn’t gone.

He still had one chance left, and he hadn’t used it at the Star-Breaking Realm. It looked like he could only spend it after breaking through to Full-Star Realm.

Over the past few days, plenty of people had tried to contact him.

When he finally returned the call, a familiar voice came through. “You finally called.”

“So?” Wang Jie asked. “What’s the outcome?”

He tensed. He’d almost forgotten that the outside world had been wrestling over whether he would be forced onto the battlefield.

Zong Cheng Ping sounded faintly amused. “Congratulations. You don’t have to go.”

Wang Jie let out a breath. “Good.”

“Honestly, the Steward Hall had the upper hand from the start. Too many people supported them. But in the end, I don’t know what happened—the Realm Lord of the black realm agreed to let you stay.

“Lock Interstice belongs to the black realm in name. Since the black realm’s Realm Lord approved it, no one else can overturn it.”

Wang Jie frowned. The black realm’s Realm Lord?

When he’d forced the Elder Council to acknowledge Lock Interstice’s right to set its own rules, the black realm’s Realm Lord hadn’t even interfered.

Was that Realm Lord secretly on Grand Elder Zhi Xing Xue’s side?

It didn’t add up. If that were true, Zhi Xing Xue wouldn’t have needed to use a Lockforce cultivator like him to clear her road in the first place.

Strange.

Still, the immediate danger was gone.

Now Bone-Motion Art was all he could think about.

“Is there any way to make up a star-breaking count after the fact?” he asked.

“It can be supplemented,” Zong Cheng Ping said, “but how to do it in Lock Interstice? I honestly don’t know.”

Lockforce cultivators almost never needed a star-breaking count. Compared to Starforce cultivators, they were too far behind in the first place.

Nobody cared.

Wang Jie could think of only one person.

Du Xian.

She responded quickly—almost eagerly.

Before long, he received a set of star coordinates. He boarded his ship at once and headed out.

The location was roughly midway between them, so after Wang Jie arrived, Du Xian reached the place only a few days later.

Her ship wasn’t Star Chain-class. It was only Star Belt-class, far slower.

The moment she arrived, she started issuing orders. She’d brought plenty of people with her, and the equipment she’d transported was enormous—so large it had to be assembled piece by piece.

“You don’t seem surprised I’ve already broken stars,” Wang Jie said.

“A Lockforce cultivator?” Du Xian shrugged as if it were obvious. “Normal.

“Guest, don’t misunderstand. I’m not looking down on Lockforce cultivators. But compared to Starforce cultivators, Lockforce cultivators have difficulty using star-breaking equipment. Many factions refuse to let Lockforce cultivators apply for it at all, because some materials can’t be recovered.”

She continued, “Some Lockforce cultivators, once they believe they’re strong enough, try to borrow the equipment anyway. If their star-breaking count is high, they can make a name for themselves—and that can attract a faction’s attention.”

Wang Jie’s expression stayed calm. He was that kind of Lockforce cultivator.

Star-breaking didn’t mean truly destroying planet after planet.

If it did, where would you find neatly arranged worlds waiting to be shattered?

And across history, how many Star-Breaking Realm cultivators had there been?

If every one of them destroyed real planets, the universe would have run out long ago—especially when battles between higher realms could obliterate stars.

Besides, planets were resources. Every world held Starforce. The stronger the faction, the more fiercely it fought to seize planets. They didn’t destroy them lightly.

In practice, “star-breaking” relied on a special device. It created targets that mimicked a planet’s density while being far smaller in volume—close enough to count. Destroy one target, and it was treated as destroying one planet.

That was why Wang Jie had come to Du Xian. In all of Lock Interstice, only she possessed that kind of target system.

People like Miao Tai, even after reaching the Star-Breaking Realm, wouldn’t bother checking how many planets they could break. For one thing, they couldn’t break a second target anyway. At most, they could break one—and it would be the weakest kind, barely half the size of Blue Star. For another, they had no access to this sort of equipment.

Du Xian certainly wouldn’t lend it to them.

Even Zong Cheng Ping’s star-breaking wouldn’t interest her.

This kind of equipment was meant for Starforce cultivators.

“Is it expensive?” Wang Jie asked.

“It’s not about money,” Du Xian said. “Certain materials are controlled by certain existences. Small factions can’t even get a sniff of them.”

“Then how do you have it?”

Du Xian smiled. “If I didn’t, would you still be here, Guest?”

After a pause, she added, “The Star Vault Vista controls more intelligence than anyone because we’re willing to bleed for it.

“If you break through using my equipment, I’ll be the first to understand you.”

Wang Jie didn’t react. “Thanks.”

“There are factions that make disciples break real planets,” Du Xian said. “It’s more accurate—and more difficult. Worlds are far apart. Your attack loses power crossing that distance.

“That’s why the strongest factions prefer that standard.

“But our method is mainstream too, and it’s recognized.”

“Is there a conversion?” Wang Jie asked.

“Only if you break enough that comparisons matter,” Du Xian said. “If you break too few, there’s nothing to compare.”

Wang Jie thought of the news he’d seen. “Shu Mu Ye broke thirteen planets. Star Vault Vista called it beyond comprehension.”

Du Xian nodded. “Senior Gu Yue’s evaluation.

“Thirteen real planets. It’s hard to imagine.”

Wang Jie didn’t press further. Asking too much might make her suspicious. And if she dug up anything about his past ties to Shu Mu Ye, his peace would end.

Du Xian returned to her work. “How many targets do you want? Tell me the density and size.”

“The highest standard,” Wang Jie said.

Du Xian stared at him. “The highest standard?”

“Yes. The highest standard your device can make.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Then let me be clear: every activation consumes materials. Those materials cannot be recovered.

“If you waste too much, I will charge you.”

She emphasized it. “And it’s expensive.”

Wang Jie only gestured for her to proceed.

Du Xian began the final calibration.

A soft click sounded. Inside the giant apparatus, a sphere like foamed light emerged—only a hundred kilometers across. The moment it met open air, it began to harden. Patterns crawled across its surface, roughening into something that looked almost geological as it drifted up and away.

It eventually stopped in the sky at a slant, like a moon.

Then another sphere formed, then another, extending in the same direction, each pressed tight against the last.

In the end, twenty spheres formed a single straight line.

Du Xian ordered everyone to retreat. Even ships weren’t allowed to linger nearby. Then she looked at Wang Jie.

“Twenty targets is the highest standard. My materials could’ve lasted a long time. Now they’re burned up in one go.”

Her tone turned warning again. “If you waste too many, Guest, the price won’t be light.”

Wang Jie reached out and touched the nearest sphere. It felt solid—far tougher than the land beneath his feet.

So this was what it meant to compress a planet’s density into something so small.

No wonder the outside world accepted it.

“Then we begin,” he said.

Du Xian stepped forward and brought her palm down.

The first strike hit him squarely. The blow was thick, condensed with starforce, and it drove him backward dozens of meters. Blood surged up his throat.

Roaming-Star Realm.

Du Xian was a Roaming-Star Realm expert.

He couldn’t dodge. He had to take it—this was the price of supplementation.

If he didn’t need that count, who would willingly be beaten half to death?

Du Xian followed with another palm, then another—right arm, left arm, limbs, back, even his throat. Each strike landed with brutal precision. It felt like his bones were being disassembled inside his body.

More than once, Wang Jie nearly struck back on instinct.

If Du Xian had shown even a trace of killing intent, he would have.

Du Xian was just as shocked as he was. She’d supplemented star-breaking for others before. She knew exactly what kind of beating would push a person into the “Ten-Seals Mountain” state—an unmistakable, heavily injured condition.

But this man took palm after palm and still wouldn’t fold.

That feeling still hadn’t come.

Was the Star-Breaking Realm really this strong?

He was enduring a Roaming-Star Realm’s assault.

This man had the strength to fight an ordinary Roaming-Star Realm.

But that state couldn’t last forever.

Soon… it finally arrived.