Chapter 58

Chapter 58: My Turf

Shu Mu Ye stood on the altar and stared down, dazed.

His face burned.

He… had been slapped.

By a native.

By a native at the Eighth Seal.

It didn’t make sense.

Wang Jie threw back his head and laughed, loud and wild. “I am Wang Jie,” he shouted. “And on behalf of all the Hua Xia people of Blue Star, I give Your Excellency a slap!”

His laughter rang across the blood-dark shore.

Shu Mu Ye lifted his head.

The calm in his eyes was gone. What replaced it was something boiling, murderous, so intense it felt like it could scorch the air.

That slap would follow him for life.

He would grind Wang Jie into dust.

He moved.

In a blink he was in front of Wang Jie, Starforce swirling around his fist. Wang Jie raised his arm as well—qi and strength braided together, Imprint Power wrapping his strike.

They punched.

The impact threw them apart. Blood flew from both mouths.

They hit again.

And again.

It was the same reckless exchange as the start of the fight—except now it was uglier, more brutal. Neither defended. Neither flinched. They ignored incoming punches to land their own.

All that mattered was the other man.

Shu Mu Ye’s rage stripped away reason.

Wang Jie stood on the altar like the weight of countless dead was holding him upright.

Don’t fall.

Hit.

A punch landed. Wang Jie heard bones crack, a clean snapping inside his body. Pain flashed, then vanished beneath a numb tide.

Somewhere deep, something held him up anyway.

Across Blue Star, across Jia Yi Sect, countless eyes watched blood traded for blood—a primal brawl that turned pain into fireworks.

No one could count the punches anymore.

Wang Jie staggered back, each step heavier than the last. His body went numb. Pain drifted away into the distance.

Shu Mu Ye looked worse—hair soaked red, blood smeared across his face, right arm hanging slack.

He regretted it.

He regretted not killing Wang Jie sooner, back when he could have ended it easily.

He regretted not killing him during Night and Day, when he could have done it then too.

Wang Jie wiped blood from his mouth with a crooked grin. “I don’t know who you are,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t care how noble you think you are.

“But this is Blue Star.

“My turf.”

His eyes locked on Shu Mu Ye. “And on my turf, you don’t get to stay.”

He charged again.

Shu Mu Ye stared at his face like he wanted to carve it into memory.

Wang Jie’s fist crashed into Shu Mu Ye’s face.

Shu Mu Ye fell backward into the mass of corpses on the altar and hit hard.

For a heartbeat, Wang Jie stood there, breathing in blood and salt, staring down.

Did he win?

Shu Mu Ye rolled once and lay on his back, blood washing over his features.

Wang Jie looked into his eyes—and felt his skin go cold.

The fury was gone.

What remained was calm.

Deep, dark, bottomless—like an abyss.

He lay among corpses and looked at Wang Jie as if nothing had happened.

At Jia Yi Sect’s lakeside, Ting He went pale. She covered her mouth.

That gaze scared her.

Around her, disciples stepped back instinctively. That look felt like it came from hell itself.

The crimson clouds pressed lower. The stench grew thicker.

Wang Jie stared down at Shu Mu Ye and felt it—the danger, sharper than any blade.

Shu Mu Ye wasn’t defeated.

Not even close.

Out on the sea, Chu Yao watched, shoulders slumped. On all of Blue Star, besides Wang Jie, only he had seen it.

In the clouds above, the Eye was watching the altar.

“This is going to be trouble,” Chu Yao muttered. “We probably won’t get out alive. If nothing else, I hope there’s a corpse left.

“That wrist guard, though… interesting.”

On the altar, Shu Mu Ye sat up slowly. He rubbed his cheek, expression almost thoughtful.

“I can’t remember the last time I felt that,” he said softly. “You woke me up.”

He lifted his gaze. “Even ants can break a dam. A slap is nothing.”

Then his voice sharpened. “Wang Jie. You’re the first person to slap my face.

“I’ll remember you for the rest of my life.”

He stood—once, failed; twice, and finally steadied himself. His body was wrecked, but his presence was still terrifying.

“But it ends here,” he said. “You resisted the flute technique with willpower. Fine. I’ll change the method.”

He smiled slightly. “Do you remember Tian Fu Base?”

Wang Jie’s eyes tightened. He remembered Shu Mu Ye lifting Tian Fu Base with one hand—control of strength and Starforce so unnatural it felt like a joke.

Shu Mu Ye gave a short laugh. “This Chen Art is crude. I don’t like it. But it’ll work well on you.

“I didn’t use it earlier because I didn’t want to disturb the altar. Too many Blue Star creatures have already died. But…”

He walked forward, each step heavy with pressure. “There are still tens of millions of people, aren’t there?”

His voice turned indifferent. “This third altar will be built entirely from humans.”

The wind stopped.

The clouds sank lower.

Invisible pressure clamped down on every heart.

Chong Xuan lay on an insect’s back and shut his eyes, silent. Shu Mu Ye had been truly provoked.

A normal person couldn’t regain calm so quickly after being slapped.

Shu Mu Ye wasn’t a monster because Cheng Yi Dao “made” him one. He had walked here himself.

He had the mind, the grit, the tolerance.

And that slap demanded payment.

Tens of millions of lives.

A third altar.

That would be the price.

Wang Jie stared at Shu Mu Ye and saw Starforce flowing over him. Before, Wang Jie couldn’t read it. Now, with qi, he could see the difference—how effortlessly Shu Mu Ye moved Starforce, how refined the control was.

Compared to that, Wang Jie’s use of Imprint Power was crude.

He breathed once and asked, almost softly, “If I kill you… what happens afterward?”

His voice carried across the dead beach, far enough that every trialist heard, far enough that Jia Yi Sect heard.

Everyone stared at him.

Did he still have something left?

Shu Mu Ye’s gaze deepened. “It won’t implicate Blue Star,” he said calmly. “Because whether you can kill me or not, Blue Star will still be pinned and staked.

“Every promise Jia Yi Sect ever made you was a lie.”

He hadn’t said it before because he didn’t care.

Now he said it because he did.

It was honesty offered like a blade—his last respect to the one person who had left a mark on him.

Wang Jie understood.

He exhaled slowly, tilted his head back, and stared into the cloud-covered sky as if he could see through it to the starry distance—to Jia Yi Sect, to Wen Si Yuan and the others watching.

“I know you’re watching,” he said. “Watch.”

He lifted his hand, gave a thumbs-up to the sky—

Then flipped it downward.

“You look disgusting up there,” he said.

At Jia Yi Sect’s lakeside, everyone stared, stunned.

This native… was insulting them?

Shu Mu Ye laughed, loud and delighted. “Well said.”

Then his smile sharpened. “But I’m up high too, Wang Jie. If you can, kill me.”

Starforce boiled in his palm. Ripples spread outward, forcing the heavy clouds up. The earth sank beneath the pressure. Blood mist blew back into the air in endless sheets.

Chen Art.

Mighty God.

Wang Jie lifted his hand.

Gray airflow churned across his palm. Void spread flat like a sheet.

Then he drew something from within it.

An IOU slip.

Half a year.

It had been half a year since he used borrowed power to kill Hu Guan. Now he could use it again.

That was why he’d dragged time out to this point—not only to push his strength, but to reach this moment.

A wrist guard.

And an IOU slip.

His only two chances.

He took out a pen and signed it.

Qing Feng Bu Gui Ke.

“Come on,” Wang Jie murmured. “Let’s see how much I can borrow.”

Shu Mu Ye’s gaze tightened. “Bridgeway Art?”

At Jia Yi Sect, shock rippled through the watchers. The universe held endless techniques more bizarre than this—but an Eighth Seal could not produce something like it unless—

Bridgeway Art.

A native had Bridgeway Art.

Shu Mu Ye didn’t wait.

He stepped forward, and the flesh-and-blood altar compressed under his power until blood poured down like a waterfall.

He threw a punch.

The world shook.

Even the planet seemed to tremble.

This was Shu Mu Ye’s absolute peak at the Eighth Seal—strength, Chen Art, and Starforce fused into the strongest strike he could throw.

He refused to break into the Ninth Seal to win. If he needed realm to crush a native, it would be humiliation worse than the slap.

The IOU slip curled on its own and vanished into the gray airflow.

Imprint Power surged over Wang Jie. Eight streams tore his shirt apart. He turned sideways, clenched his fist, and met the punch head-on.

The collision detonated.

Void buckled. Power shattered into lightning that rained down. The clouds above vaporized in an instant—then twisted ripples of force surged up and covered the sky again, plunging everything into deeper darkness.

Shockwaves slammed into sea and land alike.

Thunder boomed again and again as their power crashed and ground against itself.

Shu Mu Ye’s pupils contracted.

Wang Jie… blocked it.

Impossible.

No one beat him at the same realm. Not those prodigies. Not this native.

Wang Jie stared at Shu Mu Ye, veins bursting along his right arm. Blood sprayed from his skin. His eyes and ears bled.

He couldn’t retreat.

Not a single step.

Press forward.

Win.

Even if Blue Star still died, win once.

This was Blue Star’s final roar.

They lived their lives. Why were they “tested”?

Were they not people?

Did they not have fathers and mothers?

Did they not have children?

Were their lives not lives?

If they couldn’t overturn fate, then they would throw this punch—

Blue Star.

Hua Xia.

People.

Lightning split the sky.

Wang Jie’s knees buckled under pressure. He bit down until he tasted iron. Qi tore through his meridians.

Hold.

Hold!

Imprint Power surged again, forcing his body to move when it wanted to shatter.

Shu Mu Ye released Starforce fully, hair standing on end. He tried to step forward, to crush Wang Jie outright.

Wang Jie roared, body cracking, skin splitting. Bones shattered under his own power.

He refused.

He linked qi through his body.

He linked Imprint Power through his body.

Win once.

Just once.

Under his feet, tens of thousands of corpses seemed to hold him up, lending weight to his stubbornness.

Win once.

Shu Mu Ye’s arm split open.

He stared at his own fist, stunned as power leaked.

Starforce began to scatter.

“How…?”

Wang Jie stepped forward.

“Get the hell out of Blue Star.”

His fist slammed into Shu Mu Ye’s face.

Shu Mu Ye flew off the altar like a meteor, crashing into the ground far below and blasting out a crater—just like when he first landed on Blue Star.

But this time, he stayed down.

A clear crack split his forehead.

Half his body was shattered.

Blood drenched him.