Chapter 202: The Showdown

Crack!

With a slow, deliberate pressure, the sound of bones snapping echoed from Liu Ma’s forearm as Tian Dao applied force. The hardened skin—granted by the Golden Demon Ox—began to fracture under Tian Dao’s palm, spiderwebbing with cracks. Dark red blood seeped through the fissures, dripping in small, crimson blossoms onto the ground.

Even as agony wracked his body, his face pale as paper, Liu Ma remained locked in a death grip on Tian Dao, refusing to utter a single moan. He had spirit.

Admittedly, in sheer stubbornness, Liu Ma—the No. 35—was far more resilient than Chen Kong, the No. 36 underachiever.

But wanting to defeat someone wasn’t enough—willpower alone wasn’t victory.

Tian Dao didn’t flinch. He increased the pressure in his palm and spoke calmly, “Challenging a deity takes courage. But that courage is also foolishness.”

As the words left his lips, Tian Dao’s right hand snapped forward with sudden force—pushing.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three thunderous impacts rang out as Liu Ma was struck like a train at full steam, his body arcing through the air in a brutal arc before crashing into the wall of yellow brass and concrete. A storm of metal shards and dust erupted around him.

“Cough… cough… cough…”

After a violent fit of coughing, a bloodied golden arm shot from the wreckage. Liu Ma dragged himself up, a relentless survivor—like a cockroach refusing to die.

But his condition was dire. His right arm was grotesquely twisted, the shoulder dislocated. Blood trickled from his lips, a sign of internal damage.

Yet he didn’t care.

He wiped the blood from his mouth with his left hand, eyes locked on Tian Dao, voice hoarse and raw:

“Why… can you use Feather Force?”

Tian Dao, still holding Vivian in one hand, smiled faintly.

“Ah… you mean that stacking technique?”

Liu Ma said nothing. His expression remained grim, desperate for an answer.

Unlike Liu Ma’s clumsy, rough execution, Tian Dao’s Feather Force was effortless—fluid, seamless, as if he’d practiced it for millennia.

Watching Liu Ma’s intense stare, Tian Dao paused, then raised his right arm.

A ripple of black energy surged across his forearm, layer upon layer, building in intensity.

This was no illusion. This was Feather Force—exactly as Liu Ma had named it.

“Is stacking power really that hard to learn?” Tian Dao said, calm as if stating the weather.

But his casual tone carried an unbearable weight—so absolute, so natural—that it chilled everyone present.

Was Feather Force really that simple?

To Tian Dao, yes.

Because Feather Force wasn’t just about stacking strength. It was about gathering every form of power—Stellar Source, Stellar Energy, the body, the mind—into a single, unified point. The more layers you added, the harder it became. Especially for those with unbalanced development, the imbalance made the feat nearly impossible.

But not for Tian Dao.

He was the only one among all the stars to have pushed every single attribute to its absolute peak.

Convergence?

Tian Dao’s Feather Force wasn’t just about stacking or gathering. It was transcendence.

To better project his villainous aura for the Dimensional Audience, he decided to give Liu Ma a live demonstration.

He drew the Shattering Star from his waist and raised it slowly.

“I don’t know how much you’ve mastered this technique,” he said, “but I know you haven’t discovered its true potential.”

Liu Ma’s eyes widened in shock.

Tian Dao’s layered energy flowed across the blade, rippling through the Shattering Star in seconds. The weapon began to hum with the same black Stellar Energy.

No way…

Liu Ma gasped, his breath catching in his throat.

“Stacking isn’t just for the body,” Tian Dao said. “It can be for weapons… or even a part of your own flesh.”

With that, he brought the Shattering Star down.

No explosion. No roar.

Only a jagged, pitch-black crescent of energy tore through the air—like a moonblade cleaving the sky—slicing toward Liu Ma at terrifying speed.

Liu Ma felt it instantly—the crushing weight of death.

“MooOOO!!”

He roared, forcing every last drop of Stellar Energy into his arms. The golden patterns on his skin flared, hardening into dark gold.

Boom!

The black crescent met his forearms in a thunderous collision. Liu Ma was driven backward like a boulder hit by a landslide, skidding across the ground, tearing up stone and dust.

The golden veins on his arms dimmed rapidly, fading like dying embers.

Pain seared through his bones. Mental fatigue clouded his vision. His thoughts blurred.

Is this it?

Just as despair took hold, a blur shot from the side.

“Void Pattern: Returning to Dust.”

Chen Kong’s voice was ragged, breathless. He surged past Liu Ma’s shoulder, slamming his palm against the side of Tian Dao’s black energy slash.

The Void Pattern wove through the remnants of Liu Ma’s golden Stellar Energy, forming an invisible shield.

Together, they stopped the attack.

The black crescent shattered into nothing.

Thud!

Liu Ma collapsed to his knees, utterly spent. His arms hung limp, his forearm wounds deep—muscle and bone exposed. He was done.

Chen Kong stood beside him, blood smeared across his temple, eyes unreadable as he stared at Tian Dao.

“Tian Dao… why did you do this?”

“Oh? You finally noticed, huh?”

Tian Dao didn’t react. He already knew.

His actions had been so blatant, so unmistakable, that even the most casual observer would’ve guessed his identity.

Now that the mask was off, Ink—the false self—had served its purpose.

In the silence that followed, the complex expressions on Chen Kong’s face, the excited anticipation of the Dimensional Audience—Tian Dao lifted himself into the air, slowly rising.

His once-dark eyes—deep and fathomless—shifted.

A piercing, celestial blue.

The eyes of the one who had once stood above them all.

The monster who had towered over every head, even when they strained to look up.

Now, he returned.

Not as ally.

Not as friend.

But as enemy.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end