Smoke swirled across the broken ground, rising from shattered stones and cracked ley-lines. The battlefield had become a wound in the world itself—a crater of collapsed space and trembling spirit.
Kai Feng and Yin Shuang stood together, battered and breathless.
The Immortal Paragon loomed above them, untouched, her robes rustling in the windless air.
"Foolish mortals," she said, her voice echoing through the crater like a chime cast in arrogance. "You stand beneath a mountain and try to cut it with a feather. Your mortal Qi means nothing. Your sword, your formations, your will—quaint. But you cannot breach the sky."
She raised her hand.
A shimmering spear of condensed Immortal Qi formed above her palm—long, cold, and impossibly sharp. It hummed with a tone that made the air around it flicker like a mirage.
Yin Shuang stood in front of Kai, her sword held high.
"We can't hold this much longer," she muttered.
Kai's hand, clutching his side, was slick with blood. "No… we can't."
He looked up at the spear.
Then at her.
And the knowledge passed between them.
An unspoken decision.
A final truth.
"The gap between mortal and immortal," Yin said softly, "is too wide."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Even the Paragon paused.
Kai looked at Yin. "There's only one path left."
Her lips pressed into a line, but she nodded. "Immortal Qi."
A sharp laugh echoed across the battlefield.
The Paragon's spear dissipated for a moment—not from threat, but from amusement.
"You intend to defeat me with Immortal Qi?" she asked, incredulous. "Fools. You have no such thing. And even if you did, your bodies would collapse the moment you try to use it."
She smiled.
"It would devour you. Immortal Qi is not a gift—it is a fire no mortal can hold. Your meridians would shatter. Your sea of spirit would rupture. You'd die screaming."
Kai took a breath.
"I know."
And he opened his hand.
The Celestial Eclipse Manual appeared in the air above Kai, spinning slowly, pages fluttering in phantom wind.
It shone brighter than it ever had—silver, gold, and deep black interwoven like threads of dusk and dawn.
Kai raised both hands.
"I wasn't meant to wield it forever," he said. "It's a guide. A path. But the final step… the last gift…"
He placed his hand on the manual's spine.
"Is sacrifice."
The runes across the book flared.
"Celestial Eclipse Manual, you were crafted by Mo Xuan using Immortal Qi. Return to your original form!"
It began to unravel.
The Celestial Eclipse Manual dissolved into raw Immortal Qi, the full, untempered essence of the Immortal Mo Xuan who created it.
A sphere of roiling energy pulsed above his palm, casting long shadows over the ruins. It crackled with power that warped reality. Even the air recoiled. The light dimmed across the sky.
Yin stepped toward him, eyes wide. "Kai—your body can't contain that."
He didn't look at her.
"I know."
"You'll burn from the inside out. Or worse—your core will rupture. You'll never cultivate again."
"I know."
She grabbed his wrist.
"You'll die."
Kai turned his gaze to her.
"I'd rather die… than let her walk away from this."
She stared at him—really stared—and saw the pain behind the calm. The resolution behind the stillness.
She let go.
But only after placing her hand over his.
"Then let me help you bear it."
Kai smiled faintly. "No. You're Jiang Xue's daughter. You have to live. You carry more than I do."
"I carry you," she said fiercely. "So don't ask me to watch you die."
The Immortal Paragon watched them in silence, the glow of the sphere reflected in her emotionless eyes.
"You're going to use that power to attempt a sealing?" she asked. "A mortal forging a cage from a flame he cannot hold?"
Kai nodded.
"Yes."
"You will fail."
Kai stepped forward, the energy in his palm spinning faster, louder.
"Maybe."
And with that, he moved.