Chapter 56

Chapter 56: The Final Battle

Shu Mu Ye stopped.

Slowly, he turned and looked back at Lian Qin.

Lian Qin panted, face bloodless. She stared at him as if she could force him to understand. “Still… not enough?”

At Nan Guo Base, Lian Fei’s eyes were red-rimmed. “Mother…”

Shu Mu Ye’s gaze was cold enough to freeze bone. “Almost.”

Two words.

They broke Lian Qin.

Her whole body trembled. She roared, voice cracking with rage and despair. “You beast! You’ve killed so many people and you still want to destroy Blue Star! Do you have a heart at all?

“You’re human too! Why do this?

“They already volunteered to die! What more do you want?”

Hong Jian’s fist clenched so tight his knuckles whitened.

Sister Tang stood there with hollow grief.

No matter how loud Lian Qin’s voice was, it couldn’t blow away the blood-red clouds strangling the sky.

Shu Mu Ye turned away and continued walking north, step after steady step.

Behind him, Lian Qin collapsed into a squat, shaking.

She didn’t even have the right to be killed.

An ant’s screaming couldn’t change the heavens.

Then Shu Mu Ye paused again and looked up.

High above, an aircraft flew past—no one noticed it until that moment. It streaked toward the distance.

Black dots fell from it.

At first they were specks.

Then they became bodies.

Bai Yuan and Sister Tang stared until their eyes burned.

Shu Mu Ye stared too. His gaze sharpened, then flashed with surprise.

Him?

The blood-stained beach exploded as someone struck it like a meteor, blasting out a crater.

A lone figure stood in the pit.

Lian Qin stared, stunned.

Wang Jie?

In the distance, the trialists froze.

Wang Jie?

He wasn’t dead?

Wen Zhao’s breath hitched. “He’s alive…”

Drones broadcast the scene live to Nan Guo Base and Jin Ling Base. Qing Zheng, Old Five, and the others saw it.

Old Boss wasn’t dead.

Above the coastline, Chu Yao sat in an aircraft and watched from a circling path—for the third time.

Third duel.

Please don’t die.

You have no idea what Shu Mu Ye’s true limit looks like.

On the sand, Wang Jie lifted his eyes and took in the world.

His gaze snagged on the altar.

Human corpses layered over mutated beast corpses. Blood rose into the sky as a thick crimson cloud, blotting out the sun.

The sea itself had turned red.

His pupils tightened.

How many people…?

“You didn’t die?” Shu Mu Ye’s shock was real as he sized Wang Jie up. Not only alive—uninjured. “How?”

Wang Jie ignored him. His eyes went to Lian Qin instead, his voice scraping cold. “Why are you squatting there? Get back. Don’t get in my way while I kill someone.”

Lian Qin stared at him as if she’d never seen him before.

Shu Mu Ye’s mouth curled. “Kill someone? Me?”

Lian Qin forced herself to stand and retreat. “Be careful.”

Wang Jie waited until she was out of the line of fire. Then he looked at Shu Mu Ye.

“Tell me,” he said, quiet as a blade. “Have you ever been slapped?”

Shu Mu Ye laughed. “No.”

“You will today.”

Wang Jie surged forward, just like the last two times—strength driving him like a battering ram. His fist punched out.

Shu Mu Ye’s eyes flashed. Stronger again.

Invisible force swept outward, shoving air aside. He clenched his fist and struck back.

The collision boomed like thunder.

Shockwaves crushed the beach, tearing the sand apart. The force ripped through the blood-clouds and, for a heartbeat, sunlight spilled down—bright and clean—washing over both men.

Even.

Shu Mu Ye’s breath caught. He had used the limit of his second rebuild—and Wang Jie had reached it too.

Wang Jie drove in again. Shu Mu Ye couldn’t understand it. It hadn’t been long, and yet Wang Jie’s strength had grown to something absurd.

Fist met fist again and again.

The beach buckled, collapsing into cracks that spidered outward. Seawater rushed into the fissures.

The altar trembled.

Farther away, Wen Xing Ru and the others hurried closer. From where they’d stood before, they couldn’t even feel the true pressure of the fight.

This was a rare chance to measure Shu Mu Ye’s power.

No one could believe this native had survived.

Above them, the aircraft was caught by the shockwave. Its tail exploded, and it began to drop toward the sea.

Chu Yao leaped out and landed on the water’s surface as if it were solid ground. He stared toward the altar, eyes narrowed.

This wasn’t human strength.

And they were only at the Eighth Seal.

Two monsters at the Eighth Seal.

If they carried this kind of growth into the Star-Breaking Realm, it would be unimaginable.

Star-breaking realm meant the power to destroy a planet. Blue Star wasn’t small—ordinary Star-Breaking Realm cultivators couldn’t crack it easily. But these two?

Chu Yao had the sick feeling they could punch through the world even now, sheer force alone.

They traded eighteen punches, each impact perfectly matched.

From 80 times, climbing to the peak—89.

Wang Jie had no choice but to use everything. Against Shu Mu Ye, holding back was suicide.

And Shu Mu Ye…

He had already surpassed the limit of his second rebuild. What he used now was the power of a third.

At Jia Yi Sect’s lakeside viewing point, Wen Si Yuan and the others were watching as well, expressions tightening.

Gu Yue had come down from the waterfall, no longer looking down from above.

Even if it was “only” an Eighth Seal fight, either of them could wipe out endless Eighth Seal cultivators with a casual wave.

But these two weren’t normal.

What right did an Eighth Seal have to fight like this?

Another clash.

Wang Jie slid back seven steps.

Shu Mu Ye slid back seven steps as well.

They looked up at each other over torn sand and boiling blood mist.

Shu Mu Ye stared, shaken.

Wang Jie’s fist was smeared with blood—not only his own.

89 times.

So it wasn’t just his ceiling.

It was Shu Mu Ye’s too.

Only now did Wang Jie realize how laughable his first challenge had been. Fifty times strength, and he’d still dared to fight. Surviving had been luck, nothing more.

“What are you hiding?” Shu Mu Ye demanded, composure cracking. “What secret do you have?”

He’d needed three rebuilds to reach this power. How could this native do it?

Wang Jie answered with movement.

Jia Eight Steps.

An afterimage remained where he’d stood as he appeared behind Shu Mu Ye and struck with his palm.

Shu Mu Ye’s footwork was stranger still. He looked as if he stood in place, yet he countered from every angle. Wang Jie’s palm was blocked cleanly.

Wang Jie shifted from palm to finger and pointed—the Heaven and Earth Luo Xuan Finger.

The finger-force shot through the air.

Shu Mu Ye dodged, then slipped around Wang Jie and reached for his head.

Wang Jie’s feet shifted again. Jia Eight Steps scattered him into five shadows on the sand.

Shu Mu Ye’s grab caught nothing.

Wen Zhao stared, stunned. When had Wang Jie made Jia Eight Steps this refined?

This wasn’t “learned.”

This was mastery.

Shu Mu Ye snorted. Strength alone wasn’t enough. He’d trained the use of strength for too long.

His hand snapped out.

He caught Wang Jie’s arm.

Wang Jie caught his in return.

Wang Jie thought it was a contest of brute force. The moment he exerted power, he realized how wrong he was.

Their raw strength matched.

Their control did not.

Shu Mu Ye stood like a mountain. Wang Jie strained and couldn’t move him an inch. Recoil hammered back into Wang Jie’s body, and when Shu Mu Ye flipped his palm and struck, Wang Jie barely avoided a direct hit—even with Jia Eight Steps. The blow still clipped his side and drove him back.

Mo’s brow furrowed. If both men had three parts of strength, Wang Jie hit with three.

Shu Mu Ye could make three strike like five.

That gap was brutal.

Shu Mu Ye pressed forward. He threw a punch again—

But this one looked ordinary. Like a normal man’s fist.

That was what made Wang Jie’s spine go cold.

Ten years of apocalypse had taught him what that meant.

Danger.

He retreated at full speed.

Shu Mu Ye predicted it, stepping in relentlessly.

His speed was faster—much faster.

Wang Jie ran out of room.

There was only one option left.

Take it head-on.

Out on the sea, Chu Yao watched, eyes sharp. So it was time.

If Wang Jie could match Shu Mu Ye in raw power, then he could be given a sharper edge.

Jia Yi Sect watched, too.

Qi and strength combined—a path many had tried in the universe.

The outcomes were almost always catastrophic.

But Wang Jie didn’t have the luxury of thinking about later.

He only had now.

He shut his eyes once.

Then opened them.

Shu Mu Ye’s punch came in—straight, ruthless.

Wang Jie clenched his fist. Air surged, wrapping around his knuckles.

He punched.

Shu Mu Ye’s eyes widened. “Qi?”

Their fists crossed.

Shu Mu Ye’s punch struck Wang Jie’s chest.

Wang Jie’s punch struck Shu Mu Ye’s chest.

Both men staggered back.

Wang Jie spat blood, pain exploding through him. It felt like his body had been cracked open.

As strength grew, the body hardened. But Shu Mu Ye’s strike had pierced through power and slammed into the flesh beneath, nearly punching through him.

Shu Mu Ye spat blood as well, gaze locked on Wang Jie. “You learned qi.”

Wang Jie smiled through blood. “A gift.”

Shu Mu Ye’s voice dropped. “Throughout history, anyone who combined qi with strength met a bad end. You’re courting death.”

“Better than dying now.”

Wang Jie roared and stabbed out with a finger—the Heaven and Earth Luo Xuan Finger again, now wrapped in qi.

For the first time, Shu Mu Ye dodged with true intent. Not play.

He felt threat.

Wang Jie’s feet blurred—Jia Eight Steps, boosted by qi.

Finger-force tore through the air.

Shu Mu Ye kept dodging, forced into retreat.

Hope flashed across the watchers like lightning.

Maybe.

Maybe this time, Wang Jie could win.

At Jia Yi Sect’s lakeside, Gu Yue watched in silence. He had evaluated Shu Mu Ye three times already, and the fourth evaluation suddenly felt trivial next to what he was witnessing.

The outcome wouldn’t change the evaluation, but Gu Yue’s attention had shifted entirely.

Not to Shu Mu Ye.

To Wang Jie.

Shu Mu Ye had time, resources, backing. This native had none of that. Even matching a trialist would have been extraordinary.

But this man—

Gu Yue wanted to take him away.

Shu Mu Ye’s face tightened with disgust.

Universal “common sense” meant nothing to Wang Jie. Wang Jie didn’t care about consequences. He cared about survival.

And the effect of qi-and-strength combined was vicious. Even Shu Mu Ye couldn’t ignore it.

He raised his blade.

One Blade swept across the sky.

Pale Moon Streaming Across Heaven.

Wang Jie’s smile faded. He withdrew his finger and held his qi tight. His control was still crude; his qi came from himself. He couldn’t replenish it.

Waste it, and Shu Mu Ye would tear him apart.

He had faced Pale Moon Streaming Across Heaven before.

In his head, he had replayed it countless times.

Cold light flashed—too fast for the eye to catch.

Then he would take it.