“When exactly did you learn to fight with these things?” Tianlong asked.
“Is it really so hard to understand?” Qixia retorted. “This is the only skill I have to survive. I had no choice but to try using it to learn how to fight.”
“And what do you mean by ‘learn how to fight’?” Tianlong glanced at the wreckage in the room. “Is it throwing out a barrage of bone needles while retreating, or instantly conjuring a living sword to block my fatal strike?”
Qixia fell silent, then casually tossed the living sword in his hand aside.
The sword twisted like a captured mouse the moment it hit the ground, scurrying out of the room in a flash.
“Baiyang… your inner world has only been forged for a single day,” Tianlong remarked. “Yet the way you fight makes it seem like you’ve been slaughtering people like this for years. It’s hard not to be curious.”
“Maybe I just had a sudden epiphany,” Qixia replied. “Or maybe I’ve been longing to fight like this all along. You know my hatred for you has lasted decades—there’s nothing strange about it.”
“I don’t deny your desire to kill me,” Tianlong said. “I’m only curious about your combat experience. The two aren’t comparable. For example…”
With a mere thought from Tianlong, countless stone spikes materialized around Qixia before hurtling toward him like a storm.
Closing his eyes, Qixia willed the flesh beneath his feet to churn violently, erecting a wall of sinew and blood that shielded him. The sound of stone piercing flesh echoed as every spike embedded itself into the barrier.
“Baiyang, you seem to know all my moves and have already devised counters for them,” Tianlong mused. “And it’s only been a day. How could I not be curious?”
The flesh around Qixia crushed the stone spikes to dust. Stretching his limbs, he said, “Tianlong… I think I’m starting to understand your perspective.”
“My perspective?”
“Exactly. Whether you’re curious or not—what does it have to do with me?” Qixia smirked. “What are you to me? Why should I care what you think?”
“Hah, absurd,” Tianlong scoffed. “With just a single skill, you dare look down on me like this?”
“Why not?” Qixia countered. “Tianlong, you wouldn’t dare go all-out in my dream either. Waking up would take you even longer, and any injuries you suffer here would reflect on your real body.”
As Qixia spoke, Tianlong’s figure slowly levitated. With a sweeping motion of his arms, he tore open a gap in the fleshy walls of the room. Though the wound healed visibly, Tianlong slipped through it into the outside world.
Qixia walked to the window and looked up at Tianlong, who rose higher and higher, as if preparing a devastating attack.
“Baiyang, there will always be a difference between a ‘god’ and a ‘mortal,'” Tianlong declared from the sky. “Even if you’ve touched the threshold now, you’re still just a paper tiger. What can you do once you leave this room?”
Ignoring Tianlong’s taunts, Qixia glanced down at the display screen in the plaza below.
Alongside “Endless Cycle,” numerous other “echoes” of Tianlong flickered across the screen, making Qixia narrow his eyes.
“Original Matter,” “Ingenuity,” “Dissociation,” “Suspended Void.”
“So only these, huh?” Qixia murmured. “Along with ‘Dreamwalking’… just five in total?”
Tianlong ascended further before raising his hands as if welcoming something.
Looking up, Qixia saw sand and soil gathering above the building—materializing out of thin air, coalescing into an inverted mountain suspended in the sky.
He knew that with a single thought from Tianlong, the entire mass would come crashing down. Not just the building, but perhaps the entire street would be flattened.
“Baiyang…” Tianlong’s voice echoed from outside. “Whether in your dreams or reality, when a ‘god’ is angered, the calamity they bring is beyond mortal endurance. This is the fundamental difference between you and me.”
Taking a deep breath, Qixia slowly closed his eyes.
…
Qinglong was admiring the fruits on the great tree when he sensed something amiss.
Faint echoes of “resonance” had been reaching him, elusive and intangible.
But now, something was different. A distinct frequency of “Original Matter” grew clearer, flooding his ears from all directions.
Where was this coming from?
The sheer intensity of the frequency was indescribable. In the entire history of “Taoyuan,” only one person had ever achieved this level of “Original Matter.”
But that person…
Qinglong turned to see Tianlong still peacefully asleep on his throne, his expression serene save for a faint crease between his brows.
“Who made you this angry?” Qinglong chuckled. “Isn’t ‘Dreamwalking’ enough? Now you’re going all out with ‘Original Matter’ too?”
With that, he strode toward the throne before flickering onto its armrest in an instant.
Crouching down, he tried to gaze at Tianlong as if he were an insect.
But the man’s presence was too overwhelming—no matter how he tried, Tianlong could never be dismissed as insignificant.
“Tianlong, oh Tianlong…” Qinglong sneered bitterly. “Stop struggling. If you’re meant to die, just die. When you do, be sure to tell me, alright? So I can live in peace.”
Tianlong’s breathing remained steady, but his frown deepened.
Seeing his discomfort, Qinglong grinned wider.
“You better die… Tianlong.”
…
“Please don’t die… you damn liar.”
Qiao Jiajin stared intently at the sleeping Qixia, fists raised and ready to “take action” at any moment.
But so far, he’d only seen Qixia furrow his brows a few times—not like he was trapped in a nightmare, more like he was just sleeping in an awkward position.
He wasn’t sure if now was the time to give Qixia a good beating, so he kept watching, unblinking.
He’d seen Qixia caught in nightmares before—thrashing violently, drenched in cold sweat, struggling desperately to wake up.
But today, Qixia seemed… too calm.
How could he look so peaceful after confronting a monster like Tianlong?
“Liar… just wrap it up already. What’s there to talk about with someone like that?” Qiao Jiajin thought, his face etched with worry.
To him, Tianlong—the mad god who ruled the “Land of Finality”—was someone best avoided at all costs. Prolonged contact was bound to bring disaster.
Sure enough, in the next second, Qixia’s expression tensed, and his limbs twitched.
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