“Not bad. You actually managed to wound my precious Thunder Dragon Beast.”

She recalled the beast in a crackle of lightning. Lixin smiled without warmth, teeth pressed like a knife’s edge, anger coiling around her like a stormcloud. Honestly, I couldn’t fathom why she was mad—if anyone should be angry, it’s me.

“You came to make trouble for us. We didn’t even know you, hadn’t even seen you before. Then strangers show up to pick a fight—tell me who should be mad. As for your Thunder Dragon Beast, it nearly tore me apart. I just returned the favor.”

I bit into a Holy Healing Fruit. Warmth spilled through my veins like spring sunlight, knitting torn flesh, lifting my breath. Relief washed over me, a tide after a storm. That was close—one misstep from death. With that thought, her anger made even less sense, and my dislike only deepened.

“...” Lixin choked on words.

“Did you want me to stand still and let you butcher me?”

“You’re so annoying!”

Shame turned to fury. She raised her hand, and the “vines” she’d used before returned—no, a treant wrapped head to toe in writhing vines, a haggard scarecrow of bark and thorns. My Sword Intent brushed it; divine-tier pinnacle at best, far weaker than the Thunder Dragon Beast.

And she wasn’t done. Around her, spheres of crackling lightning drifted like will-o’-wisps. Her mana swelled by the heartbeat, a tide rising against the shore. She was done playing games.

She skipped the banter. The vine treant lunged on her command. Lixin began her grand casting—an Overdeity-level spell. That’s right. She meant to hit me with Overdeity magic. That Thunder Dragon Beast fiasco had really set her ablaze.

Even so, she wasn’t aiming for mutual destruction. Not yet. I pegged her true strength around Overdeity high stage, but her present surge was only Overdeity early stage. In other words, power under a lid.

Even Overdeity early stage is beyond me as I am. Worse, she comes from another world, and I’ve no clue how wild her Overdeity spells can get.

Another world… I know so little. If I get back to Xinuo, I’m asking her everything.

At this point, I couldn’t hold back either. One Draw Sword Technique forced the vine treant back. I spread my Sword Intent and covered my entire Sword Domain.

Overdeity-level casting isn’t simple. With this world’s rules suppressing her, Lixin needed time to weave the spell.

Thanks to that, I had a sliver of breathing room. If she’d just tossed one Overdeity spell outright, I’d be toast.

I split my focus. I dodged the treant’s lashing vines while following the method Xinuo taught me after my fight with Lixue—unlocking the power of Shattered Light.

Yes. My greatest trump card is Shattered Light. I can only stir a spark of its power, and it lasts mere minutes. But right now, it’s the only way to stand against Lixin.

—Wait. Last time, I barely fought Lixue to a draw like this. Lixin’s even stronger. Will this really work? The thought of that power finally blooming and our fight igniting made my heart flare with fear—and a thrill I couldn’t hide.

“Sword Domain—Condense!”

The instant I honed the entire domain to a single point, Shattered Light stirred. A thread of its might woke, and golden radiance burst forth—so bright it painted heaven and earth in molten dawn.

Was it my imagination? It felt stronger than last time. My body didn’t groan as much under the weight.

With Shattered Light awakened, the vine treant was no threat. A casual sweep of Sword Aura sent it hurtling into the distance, a leaf in a gale. It wouldn’t be back soon.

At the same moment, Lixin’s Overdeity spell clicked into place. Her gestures tugged at the world. Shattered thunderclouds rolled back together like a black sea.

The sky brimmed with storm. Pillars of violet lightning fell in endless volleys. Thunder hammered the air, a war drum without end. The scene screamed of apocalypse, and it pressed on my chest like a mountain.

I couldn’t sit and wait to die. I drew a breath that tasted of ozone and gathered Sword Aura with all I had. Overhead, the cloudbank convulsed. Lightning became beast-shapes, dragons of rage tearing at the seams of the sky. The dread of an Overdeity spell spread like wildfire.

“Thunderlight: World’s End!”

In that heartbeat, the world was nothing but violet lightning. Destructive force fell in spears, each bolt like heaven’s punishment meant to erase all things.

It looked exactly like the heavenly tribulations I’d read about in old novels. No time to dwell on it. Doom was falling.

When my Sword Aura reached the limit my body could endure, I twisted and let it roar free—Sword Qi Storm, my most used technique, the one built for this.

A colossal tornado rose without warning, piercing sky and earth. It slammed into the violet deluge. The two forces howled, neither giving an inch, thunder and wind locked fang-to-fang.

But something was off. The moment the tornado touched the purple bolts, the pressure eased. It wasn’t as crushing as I’d feared—Overdeity-level magic shouldn’t feel like this. It felt as if the tornado of Sword Aura was suppressing the violet lightning instead.

What was going on? In my fight with Lixue, even with a spark of Shattered Light, I never got the upper hand. This result was absurd. Was Lixin holding back? No—impossible. I shook off the doubt. Whatever the reason, this was good for me.

“Impossible… That sword is exuding the aura of the Primordial Source! Faint, but unmistakable!”

She stared at Shattered Light in my hand like she’d seen a myth step out of legend, shock breaking across her face.

Aura of the Primordial Source? What is that? Why would it shake her like this? Questions flickered through my head like fireflies.

It looked like the Sword Qi Storm suppressing her thunder was tied to that “Primordial Source aura.” And it only flared after I woke Shattered Light.

I still didn’t grasp what the Primordial Source actually was. But that it restrained Lixin’s Overdeity spell—no doubt. As for why it hadn’t worked like this against Lixue, maybe “Ice Illusion Moon” also bears that same aura? Like Shattered Light, it can birth a Sword Spirit.

Seeing the storm thin and the violet bolts falter, I didn’t hesitate. I detonated the tornado of Sword Aura, ripping the thundercloud layers apart, then unleashed the strongest sword art I currently command.

“Heavenly Sword: Radiance!”

Dazzling gold erupted along the Shattered Light Sword, shooting skyward as a pillar that pierced the clouds. It swept away the violet lightning, tore the storm to shreds, and left the world drenched in glorious light. It went so smoothly it felt like a dream—an Overdeity spell, erased just like that? Is the Primordial Source aura really this overwhelming?

I pressed the advantage. Before Lixin could recover, I swept my blade—Sword Qi Dance. Dozens, then hundreds of arcs of Sword Aura bloomed before her like a storm of petals turned to blades.

“What?!”

She snapped awake too late. She threw up a hasty barrier. It shattered like glass in a hailstorm. She went flying, coughing up blood, her aura faltering hard.

“Are Overdeity-level powerhouses really this weak?”

I glanced at Shattered Light, golden glow still cascading down its flat. Three, maybe four minutes since I stirred it—yet I’d beaten Lixin with shocking ease, relatively speaking.

“Cough… cough… That terror, that despair—that’s the Primordial Source aura, without a doubt!”

She staggered upright, face pale as moonlight. She yanked out a vial, drank, and color crept back. Her eyes burned with heat and greed as they fixed on Shattered Light in my hand. “A weapon bearing the aura of the Primordial Source is an Origin Artifact. Only beings of the Origin Realm are worthy to wield it! To think a mere brat of the Mizumi Clan is carrying an Origin Artifact—what a waste! I’ll take it!”

Her words fell—and her figure vanished, a shadow torn by lightning.

Bad!

A surge even stronger than “Thunderlight: World’s End” bloomed at my back. She’d stopped holding back against this world’s suppression. She was ready to stake everything.

The motive was crystal clear—steal Shattered Light. I couldn’t allow it. I lunged forward to open space, but she hounded me like a shadow. The spell she was weaving—close-range, lethal.

“Staff of Destruction: Drain.”

Her voice crawled up my spine, cold as a grave. A mortal crisis wrapped around me like winter ice. Thank the heavens I’d braced for it.

“Reverse Blade: Instant Kill!”

Clang!!

I caught her staff on the flattened arc of my blade. The pressure crashed down like a falling mountain, far heavier than “Thunderlight: World’s End.”

The Primordial Source aura seemed to falter. Shattered Light groaned under her staff. Worse—my Sword Aura clinging to the blade was being siphoned away.

“Ugh!”

Strength bled from my limbs, cold and steady. The gold along Shattered Light dimmed, a waning sun. Maybe she was draining it. Maybe the time limit was biting. Either way, I was in trouble.

“Yumigawa Sumeragi, hurry up and die—then hand me that sword!”

Her grin went feral. With her left hand she gathered a violet orb steeped in the power of laws. She thrust to strike—

“Don’t you dare harm my dear big brother! Aurora: Sacred Aegis!”

“Nether Hell Chains.”

“Flower Moon: Ice Prison.”

…