Chapter 37: When Did You Start Believing I Only Fight Up Close?

Silence. Absolute silence.

Yun Meng stared at Tian Dao, who had just regained his footing, and at the Coral Knight slowly dragging himself out of the crater. Her red lips parted slightly, her eyes wide with shock.

As a veteran Second-Rank Stellar Envoy, Yun Meng knew all too well the vast gap between a Second-Rank and a First-Rank Stellar Envoy.

While the "Second-Rank" designation only indicated a baseline Stellar Energy of over 1,000 points and the completion of a single Awakening of the Stellar Source—neither of which fully reflected true power—the Coral Knight was, by all standards, a frontline combat-oriented Stellar Envoy.

His peak Stellar Energy Value stood at a solid 2,100 points. His Stellar Source, Sea Thorn Coral, was a classic combat-type, making him far from weak among Second-Rank Envoys.

Yet here he was—overwhelmed, utterly and unequivocally dominated by Tian Dao, a First-Rank Stellar Envoy.

Little Tian Dao… Every time I think I’ve finally understood you, you surprise me all over again. Is it because you’ve always held back? Or have you simply grown so fast that I can no longer keep up?

Yun Meng had no answer.

Meanwhile, the Coral Knight, having just recovered from the shock, was equally stunned by what he’d just witnessed.

He stared at Tian Dao in the distance, instinctively touching his chest.

There, where his pride once lay—the reinforced coral armor—was now visibly dented.

But that wasn’t the most shocking part.

What truly unnerved him was Tian Dao’s first strike.

That single elbow blow had pierced through his armor and struck his flesh directly.

The second attack—though thunderous, a devastating leg axe—had barely scratched him. Most of its force had been absorbed by the armor.

The difference between the two attacks haunted him.

And then it clicked.

"Tian Dao," the Coral Knight said slowly, voice tinged with realization, "if I’m not mistaken… your Vector Control can only extend less than a centimeter, right?"

Tian Dao didn’t deny it.

"Yeah. More precisely… nine millimeters."

"Ah," the Coral Knight breathed, eyes widening. "That explains it."

The first strike had worked because, at that moment, his armor had only been ten millimeters thick—barely more than the maximum range of Tian Dao’s Vector Control.

So while it looked like a ten-millimeter defense, the effective protection was just one millimeter.

The second attack, on the other hand, had been blocked—because by then, he’d activated Deep Blue Flow · Coral Armor, expanding his defense to fifty millimeters.

Too thick for Tian Dao’s control to fully penetrate.

Now, the realization dawned: he’d found a way to counter it.

He straightened his posture. His right gauntlet shrank visibly, while his entire body’s coral structure thickened, becoming denser and heavier. At the same time, his left gun gauntlet extended slightly, its form softening—now resembling a marine creature’s tail spike, dramatically increasing his reach.

Tian Dao saw it instantly.

"So you think you can outdistance me," he said calmly, raising his hand. "That way, my Vector Control can’t touch you. But—"

He finished the sentence with a slow, deliberate motion.

A sphere of pure, inky darkness—like a miniature black hole—began to form at his fingertip, swirling with eerie, bottomless depth.

This was Tian Dao’s signature Stellar Art: Hei Cang.

The moment the Coral Knight felt the oppressive energy radiating from that tiny black orb, his expression darkened beneath his helmet.

In an instant, he sensed the danger—not just threat, but death.

It wasn’t a weapon. It was a summons from the grave.

As Hei Cang fully coalesced in Tian Dao’s palm, he spoke the final half of his sentence.

"—Uncle. When exactly did you start thinking I only fight up close?"

The words fell like a death knell.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, Hei Cang launched.

It moved with terrifying speed—so fast that the air itself seemed to scream. The intense spin within the sphere generated a vortex in midair, a shockwave resembling a missile’s trail.

In the blink of an eye, the black sphere became a streak of darkness—hurtling straight toward the Coral Knight.

The Coral Knight reacted instantly.

He crossed his arms, and his purple coral erupted across his body, thickening into a full-body shield—Deep Blue Flow · Coral Armor.

But this time, the armor failed.

No dazzling flash. No explosion.

Just a sudden, violent cracking—like glass shattering under pressure.

The once-impregnable coral plating split apart in a web of fractures, glowing red-hot as Hei Cang tore through it, embedding deep into the inner layers.

Moments later, a surge of unimaginable kinetic force—both penetrating and explosive—raced through the Coral Knight’s body, from the point of impact all the way to his core, his organs, his very soul.

Boom!

A circular imprint burst outward from the back of his torso—as if something invisible had passed through him.

"Spit!" The Coral Knight crashed to one knee, blood gushing from his mouth.

Red droplets seeped from the cracks in his helmet, falling onto the cracked concrete below—each drop blooming into a fleeting, haunting crimson flower before vanishing.

Drop… drop…

In the silence of the parking lot, the sound of blood hitting the ground echoed with cruel clarity—sharp, relentless, and deeply unsettling.

Yun Meng watched, her pupils narrowing.

On the ground behind the fallen knight, a five-meter-long gouge marked the path of Hei Cang’s aftermath.

The recoil alone had left such a mark.

She didn’t need to imagine what the full impact had done.

In her complex gaze, Tian Dao stepped forward, calm and composed, toward the Coral Knight—now barely able to stand, battered and broken.

He looked down.

"Alright, Uncle," he asked, voice steady. "Shall we continue?"

It took the Coral Knight a long time to recover.

Finally, he lifted his head.

He looked into Tian Dao’s eyes—then slowly removed his helmet, revealing a weathered, square-jawed face, lined with years of hardship.

"No," he said softly. "There’s no point anymore."

He deactivated his armor, set down his trident and shell shield.

Now in a sleek black suit, he looked nothing like the fierce warrior from moments ago.

He was no longer a beast of battle.

Just a tired, elegant middle-aged man—polite, composed, and utterly defeated.

Even so, as he stood there, he couldn’t help but ask:

"Kid… was that shot on me just luck? Or were you aiming for that spot all along?"

Tian Dao paused.

"Does it matter?"

The Coral Knight froze.

Then, a bitter smile crossed his face.

"No… it doesn’t. Because the dead don’t get to speak."

His voice was calm.

But the truth beneath it was anything but.

He was saying: If you hadn’t held back… I’d be dead right now.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end