Mars' POV

The lake was gone.

What remained was a vast, broken basin, its water scattered or evaporated, the ground beneath carved with overlapping scars.

Mars stood near the center of it, chest rising and falling unevenly, his armor cracked, blood running freely down his side.

Around him lay bodies.

Cultivators.

Hundreds of them.

Some had been cut down cleanly. Others had been burned, crushed, or shattered beyond recognition.

The Shadow Beyond the World Dao left little behind when its users died, but even accounting for that, the scale was obvious.

Mars had killed countless cultivators.

He wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

His movements were heavier now.

Then he twisted his head.

The space beside him folded.

Mars dodged without thinking, his body moving on instinct as a blade of compressed darkness passed where his neck had been a moment earlier.

He countered immediately, fist slamming into the distortion.

"Got you," Mars growled.

The blow didn't land cleanly. Instead,

it glanced, tearing a figure partially into reality before it slipped away again.

"You people really do follow the same Shadow Beyond the World Dao. All of you have same habits, and same tricks," Mars said, breathing hard.

A voice laughed.

The Fourth Step Cultivator finally revealed himself fully, stepping out of the folds of reality with an expression of mild amusement.

He looked uninjured, and relaxed.

Unlike Mars.

"You've done well. I'll admit that. Third Step Martial Artist, fighting like this against cultivators trained in concealment and ambush."

He glanced around at the battlefield.

"Still, it ends here."

Mars didn't reply.

He attacked.

They clashed again, and this time the difference was clear.

The cultivator had been toying with him.

Every exchange ended with Mars taking another wound.

Cuts appeared along his arms. His ribs cracked.

Once, a blade slipped through his guard and nearly pierced his heart.

The cultivator stepped back, watching Mars stagger.

"You know, you're interesting. Most people beg by now," he said casually.

Mars laughed hoarsely. "You talk too much."

"I enjoy this. Watching Martial Artists struggle with their dying breath," the cultivator replied.

Mars clenched his fists.

As they fought, something else finished forming.

An opening.

Space trembled slightly behind the cultivator, a faint instability that could be exploited. It was subtle, fleeting, and perfect.

Mars noticed it immediately.

But his body refused to respond.

His legs shook. His vision blurred. He was too injured. Too exhausted.

The cultivator followed his gaze and laughed.

"Oh? You saw it?"

Mars didn't answer.

"Yes," the cultivator continued, almost delighted. "That opening was intentional. I wanted to see your face when you realized it existed… and that you couldn't use it."

Mars' teeth clenched.

The cultivator stepped closer. "Don't worry. We can capture the Heavenbreaker Neo Hargraves whenever we want. That gives me plenty of time to enjoy breaking you."

The words cut off.

A bolt of lightning surged upward from beneath the ruined lake, tearing through the cultivator's side before he could react.

The strike was brutal and precise, burning flesh and severing control.

The cultivator screamed in rage, staggering back.

Mars didn't hesitate.

He forced his body to move, every muscle screaming in protest, and struck.

This time, the blow landed cleanly.

The cultivator's chest collapsed inward as Mars drove his fist through him, the Shadow Beyond the World Dao unraveling violently.

As the cultivator fell, Mars leaned forward, panting.

"That," Mars said hoarsely, "was the real opening I was looking at."

He dropped to one knee, blood pooling beneath him.

"You cultivators are always too arrogant," he added quietly.

A shadow appeared in front of him.

Mars looked up.

Zeus stood there, lightning crackling faintly around his body.

"Stand," Zeus said.

Mars forced himself upright, leaning on his knee.

"Where do we need to go? Where are the other cultivators?"

Zeus shook his head. "Not the cultivators."

Mars frowned. "What?"

"We need to stop Neo and Apollyon. And kill them both," Zeus said.

Mars froze.

"…What?"

"You should have noticed it during this fight. Cultivators who follow the same Dao behave the same way. They have the same patterns, reactions, and escalation."

Mars stayed silent.

"Four," Zeus continued. "Four is the number of calamity for Cultivators too, not just Martial Artists. If either Neo or Apollyon breaks through to Fourth Step during their fight, it's over. For everyone."

Zeus turned, preparing to leave.

Mars grabbed his arm.

"No."

Zeus looked back sharply.

"What are you doing?"

"You're not going there. You're not killing my friend," Mars said, forcing strength into his voice.

Zeus frowned. "Do you not understand what's happening? Or are you choosing not to see it? If one of them reaches Fourth Step, the Cosmos is finished."

"If you can see this, then so can Neo."

"You have blind faith."

"It's brotherhood."

He raised his fist.

The meaning was clear.

If Zeus tried to pass, Mars would stop him. Even if it killed him.

…

Neo's POV

The surrounding Qi shifted, no longer flowing naturally. It began to spiral, pulled toward a single point with increasing force.

Apollyon.

Neo narrowed his eyes as the energy surged into Apollyon's body, layer after layer of refined Qi being absorbed and compressed.

The golden spirits above him vibrated, their light growing unstable.

Apollyon frowned for the first time.

"This…"

Neo's expression hardened.

The transformation was already completing.

Apollyon was being forced forward, pushed toward the Fourth Step Heavenbreaker realm due to rebirth.

Neo raised his head.

He was not looking at Apollyon.

He was looking at the Golden Threads above Apollyon.

The Golden Threads—no, the Dao of Fate and Paradox—was entering his body as his breakthrough to Fourth Step Heavenbreaker rank was being completed.

Apollyon was trying to stop the Dao.

But his body was too exhausted, having just used all his strength to reach the "Dusk."

At that moment, Neo rushed forward.

The heat from Apollyon's body was burning him to the deepest corner of his existence.

But Neo knew he could not stop here.

He used Primordial Chaos.

A purple energy began to cover his sword.

[Dao of Destruction has noticed you.]

[You have gained Dao of Destruction.]

Neo looked at the message.

Dao of Destruction.

Rank 2.

It was one rank lower than Dao of Creation, which was ranked First.

Why?

Neo did not know.

He felt like Dao of Destruction should be stronger than Dao of Creation.

'No, perhaps it's me who has more compatibility with death and destruction.'

'That's why it's stronger than Dao of Creation in my hands.'

With these thoughts, he swung his sword.

Not at Apollyon.

But at the Dao itself. At the Golden Threads trying to enter Apollyon's body.

They were cut, miraculously.

But they quickly regenerated.

He had only bought a few seconds for Apollyon.

Too late! Too late! Too late! Too late! Too late! Too late! Too late!

You've lost. Both of you!

Hahahahahaha!

The Golden Threads buzzed manically.

Yet, a calm voice tore through them.

"Thank you."

Apollyon had managed to recover some of his stamina thanks to the time Neo bought.

So.

Before he lost his body to the Dao.

Before he invited the calamity.

He began to move.

'Is that a dance?' Neo wondered.

Yes, it was.

The dance of Funeral.

Apollyon was repeating the moves of his battle with Neo. The only difference was now he was alone.

W-What are you doing? Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!

The Golden Threads began to go crazy, realizing what he was doing.

They quickly tried to take control of him.

But Apollyon just danced.

Alone.

Just like he always had been.

From Dawn to Sunrise.

From Sunrise to Morning.

From Morning to Noon.

From Noon to Afternoon.

From Afternoon to Sunset.

From Sunset to Dusk.

Training. So that he could leave this foreign land faster. So that he could return to his father and help him before it was too late.

And yet, he was afraid.

Would it be enough?

Would he be strong enough to help him?

He did not know.

But…

He could train.

So, he trained.

More.

From Dusk to Night.

Stop! You crazy lunatic, stop! You will die! Forever! Not even time reversal will save you! Nothing! No one will be able to revive you!

The sky darkened.

As if night had arrived.

Apollyon was tired.

He was shivering from the cold.

And yet, he trained.

More.

From Night to Midnight.

A pitch-black darkness descended, shrouding everything.

Apollyon completed his nine steps.

Dawn. Sunrise. Morning. Noon. Afternoon. Sunset. Dusk. Night. Midnight.

They were the nine steps of rebirth.

Of Apollyon.

Of Heavens.

"O Heavens Above….."

Apollyon looked above, having completed the nine steps.

"Show me your Path."

The Heavens moved.

They began to move into his body.

Forcefully. Violently.

His flesh was ripped apart.

His Realm was alleviated.

But…

He was smiling.

Because he reached it.

The Fourth Realm.

Through the thirty-third—no, through the first—Dao, the Dao of Martial Arts (Extreme Heavens).

Apollyon's body and existence were being ripped apart.

Dao of Fate and Paradox was trying to take control of him.

But the Heavens that had entered his body were destroying everything.

Their terrifying power had momentarily pushed back Dao of Fate and Paradox, allowing Apollyon to control his body despite reaching the Fourth Step.

"Fourth Step and Fourth Realm. I guess you are stronger than Celestial Worthy now. Congratulations," Neo said.

"Hold your weapon, Neo."

"Why?"

"I am going to cripple you."

"This is the answer you found?"

"I apologize," Apollyon said. "But you are the Eternal Transcendent. As long as you keep getting stronger, you will invite the Calamity. So, I will cripple you, just like with Ultris."

"Even though I helped you?"

"I apologize."

Neo smiled and raised his weapon.

He did not question Apollyon or blame him. Because he could see what Apollyon was trying to do.

Stop this madness! Right this second! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!

It was not just the Golden Threads.

Even the Daos within Neo were roaring, ordering him to kill Apollyon before he made his move.

He exhaled.

Then, he poured everything into his sword.

For the final clash.

Apollyon poured everything into his fist.

Their attacks clashed.

A cataclysmic explosion occurred, causing blinding light to appear.

As the light disappeared, Apollyon's fist had shot through Neo's heart, while Neo's sword had not reached him.

"That was a wonderful attack."

"Why?"

"…"

"Why did you not use Primordial Chaos?"

Neo thought about it.

"I wonder why. I don't understand it myself."

Apollyon closed his eyes.

'Truly.'

'You are as kind as your father.'

Chains erupted from Apollyon's hand.

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