Santiago was out cold—completely knocked out. Even with the 99 Years Supreme Skill protecting his heart, the old guy just couldn't handle this level of shock. But he came to pretty quickly, because—his butt was on fire.
Why was his butt on fire?
Because his butt was being rubbed raw against the ground at high speed. Physics 101: force times distance equals work, and Santiago's butt was covering a lot of ground right now—so the amount of heat building up was no joke. It was so hot, he almost started howling.
The sound of friction filled his ears, and the wind whipped around his wide-open eyes, making them sting and turn red. Santiago tried to keep his eyes open and lift his head, but it was pitch black all around; he was basically blind, with no clue where he was. The burning sensation under his butt told him he was sliding fast down some kind of ramp.
This damn ramp wasn’t smooth—at least not like a kiddie slide. His butt was burning like crazy. But if you think it was rough enough to stop him, think again; he just kept sliding. No matter how much he yelled, scratched, or grabbed at things, he couldn’t slow down at all.
While clawing around, he realized he was inside a pipe about a meter wide.
The pipe twisted left and right, up and down. Whenever he hit a sudden dip at high speed, he’d go flying and smack his head on the top, then fall back down, howling in pain.
Thinking about what he'd just gone through, plus the endless darkness now, Santiago’s nerves were pretty much shot.
Santiago had seen some wild stuff in his day—he was a financial vampire, after all, and had survived plenty of close calls. Twelve years ago, he’d escaped down a trash chute from a high-rise, just like this. Back then, though, the chute ended in a nice, sponge-lined dumpster.
But now, where did this tunnel end?
Could this be... a living hell?!
Up ahead, there was light.
Boom! Out of nowhere, a deafening explosion thundered through the pipe behind him, like a bolt of lightning cracking open right at his heels. The wild roar and the sound of the pipe splitting made his heart nearly stop. Before he could react, he was shot out of the darkness at top speed.
Whoosh—he was airborne, then crashed to the ground. His old butt felt like it split into eight pieces as Santiago rolled and tumbled, trying to burn off all that momentum. Smack! He landed hard on a busted mattress across from the hole, nearly knocking out his dentures. When he frantically looked back, he saw the hole he’d been shot from belching smoke and dust—clearly, that thunderous blast had wrecked the pipe.
If he’d come out just one second later...
A wave of terror gripped his heart, cold sweat pouring down. He realized the person who caught him didn’t care one bit about his life—which, frankly, was the scariest part.
Right—his captor!
A flash of that white-haired witch popped into his mind. Santiago snapped back to reality, instantly freezing as he scanned the room, trying to figure out what kind of torture chamber she’d set up for him.
But when he turned around, he was completely stunned.
It was a mine—a forgotten corner of an abandoned mine. Old mining lamps had been repurposed, casting a dim yellow glow. The depths of the mine were shadowy and full of eerie wind, like something unspeakable was lurking in the darkness. But in that gloomy light, one little area looked totally out of place—a tiny tea table, a fancy flower screen, red porcelain bowls, fragrant snacks, an incense burner, a veiled lamp. This part of the mine was decorated so cozy and elegant, it clashed hilariously with the spooky surroundings.
A middle-aged woman and a young woman sat calmly at the tea table. The younger one was ethereal and graceful; the older one radiated serenity and wisdom. Both were stunning beauties. Santiago instinctively ignored the young woman and stared wide-eyed at the older one. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, mouth hanging open, shaking all over, cold sweat pouring down.
"How... how is this... No, no way... You—" Santiago forgot everything else; the presence of this middle-aged woman shook him even more than the white-haired witch: "So...Sophia..."
"Looks like we found the right person." Susan Morrow lifted her eyes, gazing deeply at the old man in front of her. Her voice was calm, her eyes sharp: "Please, tell us everything you know."
"I..." Santiago started to speak, but the young woman suddenly frowned. The next second, an invisible but powerful shockwave swept through the mine. No loud sound, but dust started raining down everywhere. Santiago’s head spun, his balance thrown off—he could barely stand.
"Ea-earthquake!" Santiago yelled in panic. If an earthquake hit this mine, they were doomed for sure!
But the young woman set down her teacup and waved her hand. A glow spread out, covering the whole mine, and everything instantly stabilized.
"What happened?" Susan Morrow looked at Dream Monroe, concerned. "Was that an earthquake? Do we need to evacuate?"
"No need. We can't leave yet anyway," Dream Monroe replied, setting down her teacup. "Besides..."
She didn’t finish her sentence—because something else happened.
Woooo—there was no wind, but suddenly a weird wailing echoed through the mine, as if the whole place was crying in pain. Boom! A violent explosion erupted from the tunnel, blasting out a huge cloud of dust. An ominous sense of disaster gripped Santiago’s heart. He panicked, fell on his butt, and instinctively scooted closer to the two women, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the source of the quake.
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Susan Morrow immediately grew worried: "Did something go wrong over there?"
"Auntie, you really don’t need to worry about her. Honestly, there aren’t many people on Earth who could handle her now." Dream Monroe gazed into the void above, her usually calm face showing surprise and anticipation. She murmured, "I never thought she’d reach this level so fast. With this kind of power, maybe..."
On the surface, the desert was in chaos.
A powerful shockwave whipped everything into a frenzy. Sand and gravel tumbled like chestnuts in a wok, bounced like water splashing in a bass drum, and exploded like confetti from a firecracker. When it all settled down, it formed a bizarre pattern—a giant ripple appeared in the desert, spreading out from a central point in a cone shape, cutting a massive gap into a towering dune and stretching onward to a rocky mountain.
In the rocks, 'God' was deeply embedded, blood streaming from his mouth and nose, his eyes filled with utter shock.
He couldn’t believe not just how badly he’d been beaten, but—he could tell the other person hadn’t even used much force, probably less than his own max power. Yet with the same amount of strength, all he could do was make a big crater in the desert, while this woman could pull off something like that!
Is this... still martial arts?!
"Ever since my first day learning martial arts, I’ve had one question: Where does martial arts actually lead?" Yang Qi strolled over, not too fast, not too slow. "I’m not trying to be dramatic, but I noticed the path of martial arts isn’t all that broad. Aside from basic theory and self-control, all those flashy moves come from the same set of principles. It’s like fantasy warriors with their power slash, follow-through slash, super follow-through slash, or flaming strike—the power keeps ramping up, but at the core, it’s all the same thing."
That’s just stacking up stats on paper.
'God' staggered to his feet, let out a wild roar, and lunged again.
I am God. Even in death, I will not be crushed!
"Aaaahhh!" His form expanded once more, explosions booming as God’s fists unleashed shockwaves. The air cracked, and his raw strength now matched that of two dragons.
But this time, Yang Qi didn’t even bother dodging. She swung her arm in a broad, sweeping chop—confident and majestic. Her force was still within the range of a single dragon, but under some mysterious influence, God’s strength scattered like loose flour, while Yang Qi’s was pure forged steel.
She had energy to spare, speaking easily—as if she was just sharing martial arts tips with an old friend.
"Aside from just stacking stats like you, is there a higher level to martial arts? Is there something truly different, a complete transcendence beyond physical moves? Like magic has advanced techniques, does martial arts have super martial techniques? The answer is—yes. I’m lucky; I saw it for myself when I first started training. Master Tang’s internal martial arts are a terrifying example of super martial technique. The core idea is 'Qi'—force guided by will. If you fully understand or crack your opponent’s Qi, internal martial arts are almost unbeatable."
"But my external martial arts focus on something else—the core is called 'Force.'"
Yang Qi’s voice brimmed with power, and her hands didn’t hesitate. In a flash, her hand clamped onto God’s face. A strange shockwave engulfed him—his head spun, he felt dizzy and sick. The red glow flickered; the vertigo lasted less than a tenth of a second, but in that blink, Yang Qi had already dragged God’s head several hundred meters, smashing it right back into the dent in the rock wall.
"Ah—!" Blinding white light burst forth as God slammed his arms down.
"Master Tang’s specialty sounds pretty basic, so I can’t make mine too flashy—otherwise it’d look shallow. My internal skills aren’t up to par, so the impact is huge and hard to control. If I hit too hard—please forgive me."
Smack—a fair hand slapped the side of God’s face.
"Please try this: The first Force of the Eight Force Fist—a fusion of Dragon Subduing Palm, Demolition Palm, Lion’s Roar, and more, with stun and armor-breaking effects—Shock Force: Cataclysm."
The slap was fierce, but not out of control. Strong, but not cruel. It was like a massive earthquake in Earth’s history: unstoppable, overwhelming, and terrifying—sweeping away everything in its path.
In the face of this terrifying earthquake, rivers changed course, mountains collapsed, tectonic plates shifted, lava erupted. This was the most primal disaster, the ultimate apocalypse—no ruler or empire could stop it. Even the deepest, toughest rocks cracked and shattered, so how could mere mortals stand against it?
Crack, crack—God seemed to hear the sound of yellow light on his skin breaking, his jaw and neck bones snapping, the entire rock wall behind him splitting. Boom! Dust exploded as huge cracks raced across the cliff, fanning out from the spot where that slap landed—like the whole mountain got a giant slap to the face.