Chapter Seventy-Five: The Constellations Stand Together

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Damn!

The moment he realized the prism had detached from his back, Lan Meng knew things had taken a turn for the worse—this thing, combined with the last nuclear bomb, was his only bargaining chip.

If he lost either the prism or the bomb, he would become a gambler stripped of his final stake, left helpless at the mercy of others.

Originally, Lan Meng had intended to detonate the nuke directly, then have the Bat King simultaneously set off the explosives planted throughout the island. That way, he could at least die with a shred of dignity.

But as he glanced at Liu Tian, three hundred meters away, then at himself, barely a hundred meters from the bomb, and recalled Liu Tian's previously demonstrated speed, he hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to sacrifice his own life so recklessly and loosened his grip on the button he had been about to press.

Moreover—when the prisms gather as one, the gates to divinity will reopen.

Lan Meng had never forgotten this prophecy. Now that the prisms had assembled, the gate to godhood, too, should open in response.

As long as—if only he could seize the prism, ascend to godhood—he swore he would make Liu Tian, Bai Cinan, and Heaven’s Will pay dearly. He wanted to see them betray each other, to bring forth four—no, four hundred—figures whose influence in the brotherhood rivaled even Heaven’s Will and Ming Yue, just to show them the true meaning of pain.

His body moved even faster than his thoughts.

Before he finished forming the idea, Lan Meng had already lunged forward. As the prism drew ever closer, a manic grin twisted across his lips.

Heh heh, heh heh, heh heh...

"Your smile is truly hideous~"

Slap!

Just as Lan Meng was reaching the height of his excitement, an enormous palm swept in like a swatting hand, sending him flying aside as easily as a fly. Liu Tian, who hadn’t even bothered chasing the prism, had caught him off guard from the side, swatting him away just as he was about to touch the prism. With his right hand, Liu Tian tore the button—along with Lan Meng’s arm—from his grasp; his left hand was already gathering force.

Come! Come! Come!

Take this, my original creation—Heavenly Martial Path, Fourth Way, the Infinite Way!

This was a fist technique Liu Tian had developed himself. It had no particular strengths—it didn’t exploit weaknesses like the Heartbreaker Path, nor did it gather force as the Beheading Path did, nor did it deliver the devastating, irreparable injuries of the Death Severing Path, which he later learned from Heaven’s Will.

The Infinite Way was simply fast!

The gathering of force was fast, so the attack launched swiftly!

The recovery was fast, so one punch followed another at lightning speed!

Fast! Fast! Fast!

There was no need to exert two hundred percent of his strength, nor even one hundred percent. In fact, with such brief moments to gather force, even eighty percent was hard to achieve.

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But by sacrificing power and special effects, what he gained was unparalleled speed!

Speed that swept away everything!

In an instant, countless shadows of fists exploded forth—one punch, two, three, a hundred, a thousand!

Hit! Hit! Hit! Hit! Hit!

In that brief moment, it was as if Liu Tian had sprouted dozens of additional arms, striking nearly all thirty of the others simultaneously.

Because of the weakened power, even the fourth wave members of the Dreambeast Corps—no stronger than Bai Cinan—could withstand one blow, two blows, three, before ten punches broke their guard, and a hundred shattered everything.

In the first instant, Liu Tian’s attack broke through the enemies’ defenses.

In the second instant, the weaker ones who dared charge forward were blasted away completely.

In the third instant, the entire base was sprayed with flesh and blood. The force of bodies hurled backward ripped through metal walls, revealing the darkness behind.

In the fourth instant, the remaining punches converged on the nuclear bomb. The special metal shell was pierced, its structure thoroughly destroyed, rendering it an inert, unusable dud.

Only after all this did Liu Tian, with ease, retrieve the now-floating prism.

To his surprise, after merging, the prism—which had previously radiated ever-increasing heat—seemed to return to its normal state, no longer burning with its fierce temperature.

But that didn’t matter. A surge of warm energy flowed from the prism into his hand, a sense of fulfillment rising from the depths of his soul.

Now, having seized complete control of the situation, Liu Tian opened the [Effort] panel in his mind. The energy points there soared wildly: two hundred, three hundred, four, five, six hundred...

Climbing all the way to two thousand before finally stopping!

Yet after two thousand, the source points within the prism seemed to have been utterly drained. Not another drop could be squeezed out.

Now Liu Tian finally had time to examine the fused prism—it looked the same as before, but upon closer inspection, countless points of light within formed a clock. A countdown ticked away, the numbers having already fallen to 995, dropping with every passing second.

What did this mean?

Boom, boom, boom!

While Liu Tian was still pondering, explosions erupted everywhere. The entire base—no, the whole island—was engulfed in pillars of fire.

Unlike the time the Holy King Ming Yue unleashed a full-scale bombardment with the Heaven’s Wrath system, this time the blasts came from within the island, detonating at its weakest points. All underground tunnels were blocked, and Easter Island shook violently, tilting to one side. Soon after, the volcano beneath the ground erupted, sending a fountain of magma skyward...

"This island is going to sink. You really had the nerve to do it." Though he couldn’t see exactly what was happening, the violent tremors rocking the underground base told the Holy King Ming Yue all he needed to know as he dragged the half-dead Lan Meng along.

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Though faced with the crisis of a sinking island, the Holy King Ming Yue felt no fear—he himself would not be able to leave before the island was fully submerged, but there was someone who could, and that person was right in front of him.

"You seemed to be thinking some very unfavorable thoughts about me just now," Liu Tian said, poking Lan Meng’s face.

Those who have delved deeply into the secret martial arts can often sense others’ murderous intent toward them, and Liu Tian, having reached this stage, could perceive even more—not just killing intent, but other emotions as well.

With this heightened sensitivity, Liu Tian had sensed the overwhelming malice that had just emanated from Lan Meng—not murderous intent, but something so vile it made him shudder.

"…"

Lan Meng did not lash out. He simply used the last of his strength to look at Liu Tian, as if to etch him into his memory forever. Then, as his eyelids fell shut, the poison coursing through his body claimed his last breath before his eyes could fully close.

"Dead..." Liu Tian smashed Lan Meng’s corpse into pulp with a punch, then stomped to scatter the remains even further—now, whether Lan Meng had really died before or not, he was truly, utterly dead.

Liu Tian lifted his head, intending to press the prism to his chest, but the merged prism now displayed an immutable nature; he had no choice but to grip it tightly in his hand.

"Follow me. I may not have much time left!" Clenching his fist, Liu Tian shot out like a cannonball, drilling through the earth even faster than the world’s most advanced tunneling machine.

In less than three minutes, accompanied by a towering column of seawater, Liu Tian and Ming Yue burst through the surface one after the other.

There!

Scanning the horizon, he easily spotted the location of their previous ship.

With a single step, Liu Tian compressed the thin air beneath his feet, dashing toward his master as if walking on solid ground. Only then did the Holy King Ming Yue realize—Liu Tian had never needed his help to fly after all.

So why, then, had Liu Tian insisted on dragging him along under the pretense of being a burden?

Ming Yue could guess the reason, but he no longer cared.

For above them, beneath the stellar canopy, as Lan Meng died, the constellations shifted, and two distinct star patterns appeared simultaneously.

On the left, beneath the brightest star, a cluster of luminous points gathered, with dimmer stars heaped below like a footstool.

On the right, two bright stars balanced the sky, left and right, while in the center, a dim but unignorable star presided, with countless others rising and falling, gathering and dispersing.

Though the rivers-of-blood constellation had faded, this new celestial display left the Holy King Ming Yue just as bewildered and lost.