Gen's heart skipped a beat. He thrust his hands out, and the **Swords of Infinity** diagram blazed to life. Dozens of beams of annihilating light lanced down, a desperate net to intercept the diving demon.
But it was as the creature had said. The swords were cool. They looked impressive. They hammered against the glossy exoskeleton with a sound like hail on stone—and left not even a faint scratch.
Frustration burned in Gen's throat. He shot upwards, a golden arrow.
One of the remaining one-tailed demons dropped into his path, its single tail spinning like a drill, a living tornado aimed to grind him from the sky. Gen's **Jingdao** densified. He crossed his forearms and took the impact.
***CRUNCH-SHRIEK!***
The sound was of shearing forces. The shockwave rattled his bones, a clear testament: the tail was their strongest weapon.
But as Gen braced against the force, the Sky Demon pivoted. It used the deflected tail as an anchor, its limbs—sharp and multi-jointed—coiling around Gen's legs and torso with shocking speed. The sudden, alien weight on his body was so disturbing his **Shidow** control faltered. The manipulated air beneath his feet dissolved.
They fell.
They hit the ground with a teeth-jarring impact that drove the air from Gen's lungs. The demon, still wrapped around him, immediately tried to bite down on his neck. Its sharp teeth scraped and *cracked* against the hardened skin of his Eternal Body. But the Second Door's reinforcement wasn't just an aura; it was the internal structure, the bones themselves, made impossibly dense. The teeth couldn't pierce.
The inner light of Gen's body condensed even further. The faint white vapor around him seemed to burn, searing the creature's limbs where they touched. It held on, snarling.
"LAING! BE CAREFUL!" Gen roared, straining against the bind. "THIS THING CAN LEARN! AND FAST!"
Kang Mao, seeing Gen immobilized, cursed. Without **Shidow**, he couldn't fly. But the **Thousand-Shifting Jingdao** was just that—a thousand abilities. His aura shimmered, shifting from solidity to something else. The **Jingdao of the Dancing Flower**. His body became both extremely dense and preternaturally light at the same time. He stepped, not on air, but on the *reinforced concept of the air itself*, and shot towards the clash between Liang and the primal, three-tailed horror.
The three-tailed demon's claws pierced forward, a speed that belonged to instinct, not thought. Liang had no time to react. Kang Mao was still moments away. Gen was pinned.
For the first time, Liang felt truly alone. No Madame Su to shield him. No Gen to charge in. No Lorel with her brilliant swords. It was just Liang. His skill. His faith.
He bit his lip until he tasted blood. He had worked. For the five months Gen and Lorel were absent in the Forgotten Realm, he had trained. The spells from the Li family, he had refined them.
Suddenly, as the claws were about to cleave him in two, Liang's body *shifted*. It didn't move; it became *ethereal*. The claws passed through him as if through a heat haze.
In the same instant, Liang stepped *onto* the side, reinforcing a pocket of air with a thread of **Shidow** to propel himself. His fist, hardened by the **Jingdao of the Unassuming Peak**—a principle of underestimated, foundational strength—hammered squarely onto the monster's exoskeleton.
***THUD!***
The blow wasn't flashy. It was solid, heavy, and utterly surprising. It rocked the demon off its trajectory for a mere second.
A second was enough.
Liang retreated back to the ground as Kang Mao descended from above, his aura having shifted once more. The **Jingdao of the Ogre's Hammer**. His hands, now looking like blocks of forged iron, slammed down with the weight of a falling cliff onto the demon's back.
***BOOOOM!***
The three-tailed demon felt it. A sharp *crack* echoed from its exoskeleton. It cried out a bestial, enraged roar, and its body was slammed downward, driven into the earth like a nail.
At the same moment, Gen finally broke free. His reinforced fist closed around the neck of the one-tailed demon clinging to him. With a final, wrenching twist, he felt the chitin *crack* under the immense pressure of the Eternal Body. He threw the lifeless husk aside and regrouped with his friends, staring at Liang with new-found admiration.
"Liang… I never knew you could do that."
Liang stumbled slightly, leaning on Kang Mao for support. He managed a tired, proud grin. "**Jingdao** was always the reason they called me the weakest disciple of the Immortal. After you all left… I decided it would not be that way anymore."
The joy was short-lived.
From the crater, the three-tailed Sky Demon rose. Its cracked exoskeleton seemed to *flow*, the fractures sealing before their eyes. That was **Shidow**—manipulation of its own physical form.
Gen and the others watched, their faces falling. This thing could use all the Wheels of Destiny they could. Except **Zhidow**, Creation. It lacked the spark to make something new. But for unmaking, dividing, combining, and reinforcing what it already had? It was a master.
It shrieked at them, a raw, mindless sound, trying to convey something its separated intelligence could no longer articulate. Then it simply pounced again. Its body melted into the shadow of a tree trunk—a crude but effective demonstration of **Heidow** and **Fendow** combined—and vanished.
Gen's face darkened as they formed a tight circle, Kang Mao supporting the weakening Liang. Gen was the only one with the speed and power to counter it now, but he couldn't see it. Where was it?
He looked down. At the disturbed earth. At the way the shadows pooled.
He understood.
Without a second thought, he pointed a finger downward. Not at anything, but at the *ground itself* where they stood.
**End of the World Finger.**
He didn't touch dirt. He touched the *concept* of the solid earth. The ground where he pointed simply ceased to be. A sphere of nothingness erupted, swallowing rock and soil, leaving a gaping hole and sending blocks of earth tumbling into the air.
The three-tailed Sky Demon appeared in the space that had been its hiding spot, now exposed. It was stuck in mid-lunge, confused by the sudden absence of cover.
Before Kang Mao could shift to the Blitzing Dragon, a black whip—a tail—lashed out from the demon's disoriented form. Kang Mao didn't have time to change to the Born Monolith. The tail sliced across his legs.
He cried out, buckling forward, blood flashing in the air.
Before Gen could react, leaping from the crater's edge, the three-tailed demon was already gone. It reappeared, perched on a petrified root across the clearing, licking Kang Mao's blood from its tail.
Gen cursed, rushing to his friends' side. Liang was now lying on the ground, his face pale, the poison finally overwhelming his faltering **Jingdao**. Kang Mao had managed to reinforce against the toxin in time, but his tendons were slashed. He could not stand, let alone fight.
Gen was alone.
The bestial, three-tailed Sky Demon tilted its head sideways. A morbid, grinding sound came from within it, like bones being crushed. It was ready. The feast was before it, and only one morsel was still standing.
Gen took one last look at the three-tailed demon. Then his gaze flicked sideways, past the beast, to the dark, root-woven entrance of the ancient building they had seen from above. A thought, desperate and clear, was born in his mind.
*In this state, I cannot win.* The calculation was cold, immediate. His priority was no longer victory. It was survival. *I will not get a second chance.*
The three-tailed Sky Demon jumped from its perch. It landed on the ground with a solid ***THUMP*** that sent cracks spiderwebbing through the earth. The remaining one-tailed demon, witnessing the scale of the fight, seemed to understand something primal. It let out a submissive shriek and fled, scrambling into the distant, golden haze. The Sky Ocean was a place where even Infant-stage beasts learned the hierarchy of fear.
The three-tailed demon walked forward, its movements leisurely, a predator confident in its cornered prey. Its three tails danced like serpents behind it. With each step, its exoskeleton hardened further, taking on a deeper, obsidian gleam. Its hands—taloned and cruel—balled into fists.
With every step it took, Gen's heart gave a painful, skipping beat against his ribs. Yet he forced his own trembling fist to harden. *This is it.* The presence of Nix, even wounded, had been mind-bending. He could not—*would not*—be shaken by an Adult Milky Beast. Not yet. He sealed his resolve into a single, unbreakable point. *One move. This is all I have.*
The Sky Demon seemed to understand this well. Despite its intelligence being severed, its primal pride and arrogance resurfaced. It moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the approach. Yet its alien eyes, burning with red pinpricks of light, held the extreme caution of a veteran hunter that had been surprised before. It watched for a twitch, a flare of energy, any sign of the trick it knew must be coming. In its mind, there was no way the cornered prey could surprise it.
Gen focused inward. He took a breath, not of air, but of his own Qi, drawing it deep into his core.
The **Eternal Body** skill, as explained by the scroll, had three levels. The First Door was physical reinforcement—the skin, the muscle. The Second Door was internal reinforcement—the bones, the marrow. And the Third Door… the one that could bring him infinitely closer to the legendary body of Immortal Jiang, the body that could hold back a Damocles for a few seconds… that was the reinforcement of the *soul*. The will made manifest.
Deep inside Gen, a new flame ignited. It wasn't hot. It was calm. Absolute.
His **Jingdao** changed.
The faint, cold vapor of the Second Door that had wreathed his body vanished completely. The blazing golden light dimmed, softened. What remained was a serene, almost invisible aura that clung to him like a second skin. It didn't radiate power; it *was* power, condensed to its essence. He looked, for a moment, utterly ordinary.
The Sky Demon hesitated. Its hunter's instinct screamed a warning it could not articulate.
Gen moved.
He didn't charge. He *leaned* forward, his movement flowing and inevitable. His right hand came up, the index finger pointing. There was no gathering of light, no thunderous build-up. He simply pressed the **End of the World Finger** into the space between them.
The demon shrieked—a raw, deafening sound of shock and pain—and tried to recoil. But it was too late.
The press of annihilating energy from Gen's finger didn't travel. It simply *was* where he pointed. It touched the extended fingers of the demon's leading arm.
Three of its taloned fingers ceased to exist. They didn't burn, shatter, or bleed. They vanished into nothingness, leaving behind smooth, rounded stumps as if they had never been there.
Primal instinct, deeper than any learned strategy, overwhelmed the beast. *RETREAT.* It merged with the ground using **Heidow**, its body dissolving into the cracked earth and reforming a dozen yards away in a panic, cradling its maimed hand.
This was the opening. The only one he would get.
Gen's serene aura flickered violently, like a guttering candle. The immense, soul-deep strain of touching the Third Door, even for a second, crashed down on him. A moment ago, he had been an unbreakable monolith. Now, he felt hollowed out, his body a shaky vessel. He was nothing more than wounded prey with one last trick.
He didn't hesitate.
He lunged to Liang's side, his movements fueled by desperation, not skill. He hooked an arm under his unconscious friend. He grabbed Kang Mao by the collar of his robe. "MOVE!" he grunted, heaving them both up. Kang Mao, teeth gritted against the pain in his legs, managed to find a stumbling footing, leaning heavily on Gen.
They bolted for the dark entrance of the building.
Behind them, the three-tailed Sky Demon recovered. Its shock turned into a shriek of pure, bestial fury. It had been right—the prey *did* have a trick. And it had paid for its caution with flesh. Now, its hunter's instinct was clear: a wounded predator was the most dangerous. It had to end this *now*.
It merged with the ground again, becoming a streak of darkness flowing through the earth, closing the distance with terrifying speed. The shadow surged ahead, rising from the stone just feet from the entrance, its maw opening, its remaining claws poised to tear them apart from behind.
Gen, burdened and drained, felt its approach as a deathly chill on his neck. He couldn't outrun it. He couldn't fight.
He did the only thing left.
He threw every last dreg of his **Jingdao**, not into defense, but into a final, explosive push—a crude, desperate application of **Shidow** against the air at his own back.
It wasn't graceful. It was a concussive blast that scorched his own robes and hammered into his companions. But it worked.
It propelled the three of them forward in a stumbling, painful lunge. They crossed the threshold of the root-woven archway and tumbled into the cool, dank darkness within.
The Sky Demon's claws, swiping through the space they had just occupied, met only empty air. Its body slammed to a halt at the very entrance, as if hitting an invisible wall. It could not cross.
It stood there, on the border between the golden light and the inner dark, its form trembling with rage. It glared into the shadows where its prey had vanished, its three tails lashing furiously against the unseen barrier. A final, impotent shriek of fury echoed after them, then faded into the hungry silence of the Sky Ocean.
Inside, Gen lay on cold stone, gasping, his body a map of exhaustion and pain, the ghosts of his father's greatest technique still echoing in his trembling soul.