Against The True Gods

The volatile clouds of qi dissipated, revealing Caine hovering in the skies, encased within a fragile bubble of red qi.

At the last moment, he had managed to activate his rings, converting atmospheric qi into blood qi to form a protective shield.

It was the first time Caine had ever converted one type of qi into another. Frankly, he hadn't even known it was possible. Yet, the pressure of life and death had borne unexpected results.

Below, the Incarnation swung its sword, and atmospheric qi coalesced into razor-sharp arcs. With a flick of its wrist, it sent the first wave slicing through the air toward him.

The sword moved again—and again—a dozen more times in less than a second. More arcs of condensed qi followed, cascading toward Caine with relentless precision.

BOOM!

The shield surrounding Caine shattered under the barrage. Deep gashes tore across his body as he plummeted from the skies, blood trailing in his wake.

But this time, he was ready. Twisting mid-air, he flipped to land on his feet, his silver gaze locking firmly onto his foe.

He extended a hand, and his spear snapped back into his grip as if summoned by instinct.

The Martial Ring in the depths of his eyes ignited with a furious light. With a single step, qi exploded beneath his feet, launching him toward the Incarnation like a bolt of lightning.

Sidestepping a falling blade of qi, Caine spun, his spear dancing fluidly across his body before arcing upward in a cleaving strike.

The Incarnation moved with effortless grace, slapping the rising blade aside before seizing Caine's wrist. With a vice-like grip, it twisted, bones cracking under the pressure.

Yet Caine didn't flinch. Without hesitation, he tossed his spear into his other hand and swung again.

Caught in an awkward position, the Incarnation released his wrist and retreated.

Caine's blade sliced through empty air, but he used the momentum to spin forward, closing the gap. He followed with a falling cleave that mirrored his previous rising strike.

BANG!

The blade collided with a shimmering shield of qi, sending vibrations coursing up his arms.

This time, however, Caine was prepared.

Using the rebounding force, he spun once more, transitioning into a horizontal slice aimed at the Incarnation's lower half.

The Incarnation responded with the same cold indifference, slapping the blade downward and disrupting Caine's balance.

Off-kilter, Caine stumbled forward, his body vulnerable to a devastating counterattack.

CRACK!

A powerful, qi-laden punch slammed into his jaw, the sickening sound of bone snapping reverberating through the air.

Caine's vision blurred, his brain rattled, and his consciousness teetered on the edge. A sharp, searing pain ripped through his chest as the Incarnation's blade thrust in and out of his torso.

Mere seconds later, the blade swept across his shoulders with unnerving precision, severing key nerves. His arms fell limp, useless.

The shift was abrupt, unsettling, and devastating. Stripped of control over his own body, Caine found himself forced deeper into the Incarnation's calculated rhythm—a chaotic dance that tore him apart piece by piece.

The Incarnation relied solely on its mastery of qi manipulation and unparalleled blade skills, yet that seemed more than enough.

Methodically, it dismantled Caine, forcing him to adapt to its tempo and rules.

Its blade worked on two planes—the physical and the metaphysical. Every gash it carved into his flesh was accompanied by an echo of chaotic qi, burrowing into his body and wreaking havoc on his nerves.

With surgical precision and qi control beyond anything Caine had witnessed, the Incarnation systematically stripped him of all bodily functions. The wounds accumulated, the blood loss mounting as Caine's body betrayed him.

Worse still, the Incarnation seemed acutely aware of the danger posed by Caine's mind. It pressed the attack relentlessly, allowing no time for him to formulate a counterstrategy.

BOOOOM!

An explosion of raw energy erupted, forcing the Incarnation back.

Slowly, Caine staggered to his feet, his arms hanging limply at his sides. His body was a canvas of blood and gore, stripped of its former vitality and strength.

Yet he stood tall, his silver gaze steady as it bore into the Incarnation.

By now, Caine was certain. This being was truly the Incarnation of his world—a fragment of its consciousness made manifest.

It wielded only the power of a peak Flesh Destruction cultivator, yet it had utterly dominated him.

For someone of Caine's talent, this should have been impossible. Only an opponent of a higher cultivation realm should have been capable of such a feat, and even then, he doubted they could have overwhelmed him so thoroughly.

Below the Sage Realm, Caine knew he should have been untouchable.

Only a World's consciousness could wield qi with such monstrous precision and mastery.

Yet Caine wasn't impressed.

He knew he held the cards to change the tide. His monstrous gifts, the abilities of his bonds, the full extent of his innate circle, his affinity for Totality—all of it could turn the battle in his favor.

But he refused to use them.

Just as when he had faced the tribulation during his Innate Circle awakening,

something deep within told him that taking a single step back would cost him something irreparable.

Something far more valuable than his life.

If the Incarnation limited itself to the Flesh Destruction stage, relying only on qi and a blade, then so would he.

He would defeat the World itself—on its terms.

As these thoughts solidified in his mind, Caine exhaled a shaky breath. His body swayed under the weight of his injuries, barely able to stand, yet his resolve burned brightly.

Behind him, the faint outline of something vast and grand began to materialize—a form so subtle it was barely perceptible, even to the Incarnation.

The rings within Caine's eyes dimmed, and his spear dissolved into motes of red light.

Seeing this, the Incarnation discarded its blade as well.

WHOOSH!

Thin filaments of blood qi coiled around Caine, weaving into his flesh and binding his broken body.

If his nerves were fried, he would puppeteer himself with qi. He would not surrender.

If death awaited him, he would meet it with honor—on his own terms.

BOOOOM!

The battle resumed.