—Tyrant's Barricade. Also known as the Molten-Iron Sword Corpse.
Two years after the end of the previous loop, on the eve of the final battle against the Emanator of Abundance, Shuhu, Yunli poured her entire soul and countless priceless materials into forging this ultimate weapon, using her beloved greatsword, Ol' Iron, as its core.
Categorized as a longsword and rated EX-Class, its sheer destructive output was entirely on par with the Divine Keys forged from Herrscher Cores. If pushed to its absolute zenith, a single swing was capable of violently cleaving the continental plates of the Proper World in half.
On the night before that apocalyptic battle, a hardened Yunli ruthlessly knocked Fuli out cold and hid him away. Clad in top-tier gear and wielding this peerless divine weapon, the young girl marched fiercely onto the battlefield, resolved to fight Shuhu to the bitter end.
As for the result...
After the girl died in battle, a heavily wounded Shuhu carried her severed head to where Fuli was hidden. Taunting the boy, the Emanator pressed the head against his cheek, granting him the first, and only, kiss of Yunli's life.
It was freezing cold. And it reeked of blood.
Naturally, Fuli completely lost his mind.
As the second recognized master of Tyrant's Barricade, he forcefully summoned the divine weapon that resonated with his soul and dragged Shuhu into a brutal, suicidal deathmatch.
And then, he lost.
Not only were the countless divine weapons Yunli had gifted him utterly destroyed, but under Shuhu's frenzied assault, Tyrant's Barricade itself, along with Fuli's severed sword arm, was mercilessly swallowed by the raging Quantum Tides.
And that was where the problem began.
Upon falling into the domain of the "Sea," Fuli's severed arm was broken down and assimilated in the blink of an eye.
However, Tyrant's Barricade drifted aimlessly through the Sea of Quanta for untold eons. Under the endless, repetitive scouring and erosion of the tides, it lost nearly all of its miraculous properties and apocalyptic power.
Forget the world-sundering, continental-cleaving might of its prime; right now, even a mass-produced C-Rank standard-issue weapon would probably provide a better stat boost than the current Tyrant's Barricade.
Even so, despite the near-infinite passage of time and the relentless erosion of an incredibly hostile environment, the blade refused to shatter.
Why?
Because back when she first forged Tyrant's Barricade, Yunli had taken a certain idiot named Fuli into consideration. The boy seemed cursed by the heavens, breaking his weapons in combat at the drop of a hat.
Of the twenty-four Guanming Glazed Sword Souls she had made him, over half had been shattered after only a short period of traveling together.
A famous master blacksmith once said: "You must treat your gear like you treat your lover."
So why are you constantly swapping out your weapons?! Where exactly are you getting all these 'lovers'?!
Harboring this deep-seated, jealous 'grudge', Yunli poured every ounce of her knowledge and lifeblood as a Master Artisan into bestowing Tyrant's Barricade with one fundamental, core trait:
Absolute resilience. It would never bend, warp, or break. Simply put, it was eternally indestructible.
—For the rest of your life, having this one weapon (having me) is all you'll ever need! Stop thinking about going out and messing around with other swords, you hear me?!
Of course, much like the recorded confession that General Huaiyan only delivered to him after her death, Yunli had never actually managed to say those words out loud.
And so, Tyrant's Barricade drifted through the Sea of Quanta. No matter what happened, it remained unmoved and unbroken.
Over those long, agonizing eons, various space-borne minerals and quantum dust continuously clung to its surface, calcifying into a thick, heavy outer shell that made it look exactly identical to her old greatsword, Ol' Iron.
You could interpret this as a divine artifact purposefully concealing its own brilliance;
You could see it as an instinctual, self-generated protective shell;
You could even explain it away using the concept of shape-memory alloys, much like the legendary, rust-proof ancient Sword of Goujian.
Since Tyrant's Barricade was originally forged from Ol' Iron, it was completely understandable that it subconsciously sought to return to its original form.
Until one day, it plummeted from the sky like a meteor, embedding itself diagonally into the peak of a desolate mountain within a lonely World Bubble.
It was later discovered by a seasoned Cloud Knight reconnaissance team, flagged as a lost Zhuming Demonic Sword, and eventually assigned as Kiana's mission target via the Matrix of Prescience.
Was the Matrix wrong? No.
Was Tyrant's Barricade a Zhuming product? Absolutely. It was the magnum opus personally forged by the contemporary Master Artisan!
(Illustration: Kiana begging for food)
The only tragedy was that right before Kiana returned from her sword training, eagerly rubbing her hands together to pull her very own 'Excalibur' from the stone, Tole—one of the Borisin vanguard's Four Heavenly Kings—raided the World Bubble. During the pillaging, Tole, who possessed considerable skill with a blade, managed to draw the sword from the peak and claim it as his own.
True, the weapon's current offensive amplification was worse than a C-Rank mass-produced blade, and practically useless to anyone other than Fuli and Yunli.
But its core trait—absolute indestructibility—was a very real, tangible, physical fact.
And the Borisin just so happened to be a race that despised flashy magical gimmicks, preferring weapons that offered extreme durability and brutal practicality.
And so—
Seer Mangus unhurriedly snapped her fingers, ordering in a raspy, eerily overlapping voice:
"Tole."
"Here, Seer."
"Stall her. Thirty-seven seconds."
"Yes!"
The massively built Borisin warrior stepped forward. He hefted the door-sized Tyrant's Barricade and leaped into the air, bringing it down toward the charging Yunli with the terrifying momentum of a falling meteor!
Facing him, the young swordmaster habitually prepared to swing her Ol' Iron, intending to violently bat him out of the air just as she had easily done to the rest of his kin.
However, just as her gaze accidentally swept across the pitch-black greatsword in Tole's hands—
In that microsecond!
As if struck by lightning, her pupils violently contracted!
Fuli's Stigmata of Reason allowed him to instantly master any tool created by sapient life. Yunli didn't possess such a convenient ability; instead, she possessed the innate, instinctual ability to communicate with the souls of swords.
And so, the young girl read its memories:
"Heheh, I'm the super Great King Yunli! With me protecting you, you won't have a single problem!"
A smug, incredibly energetic girl's voice.
"Heck yeah! The Li-Li duo is completely invincible!"
The thrilling excitement and boundless trust of fighting side-by-side.
"Shuhu ain't shit! Ol' Iron will smash her to pieces!"
The heroic resolve right before the final, apocalyptic battle.
"No crying when you read my message! This Great King hates seeing people cry the most!"
The deep reluctance and tender affection hidden beneath a mask of forced toughness.
"Li-bao..."
"Li-bao?"
"Li-bao~"
"Li-bao!"
Dark skies hanging low, bright stars follow in tow~
Fireflies fly, who are you missing tonight~
"Li—"
"Open!"
Right at the exact microsecond Yunli's mind violently shook from the overwhelming tsunami of memories crossing life, death, and spacetime, Mangus's raspy voice abruptly echoed!
A Buddhist śarīra—a sacred relic glowing with seven-colored glazed light—shattered beneath the girl's feet without warning. A blinding golden aura exploded outward before violently contracting, heavily warping the space around Yunli in less than a ten-thousandth of a second!
Clack!
By the time the infant-fist-sized relic fell back to the dirt, Yunli's figure had completely vanished!
"Heh~"
The corners of Mangus's mouth curled up into a highly satisfied smile. Everything was perfectly under control.
—The Prison Realm. A supreme sealing artifact formed from the śarīra left behind by the legendary Great Monk Jianzhen after his passing.
The relic required a full minute to analyze the target's information and physical data. Once the analysis was complete, it generated a localized, reality-warping containment field that forcefully sealed the target. Even an S-Rank powerhouse couldn't resist it.
Furthermore, once sealed, even Mangus herself couldn't undo it.
This was precisely why she had ordered Tole to stall Yunli for thirty-seven seconds. Thanks to the relentless suicide bombings from the Borisin infantry earlier, only those remaining seconds had been needed to fulfill the one-minute requirement.
That being said, deep down, a hint of confusion still gnawed at Mangus.
Although the sealing condition strictly stated "one minute of analysis," that crucial minute could either be an objective minute in the real world, or a subjective minute perceived inside the target's mind.
This meant that if the target experienced a moment of intense mental shock, hesitation, or a flood of thoughts that made an instant feel like a minute, the condition would be met, and the seal would trigger immediately.
But Mangus had never counted on sealing Yunli this way.
The girl was a genuine S-Rank powerhouse! Her mental fortitude was vastly superior to ordinary people. Hoping she would suffer a massive mental lapse in the middle of a high-speed deathmatch was a pipe dream; burying her under mountains of corpses to buy time was a far more realistic strategy!
And yet?
Less than a second had passed in reality, and the seal was already complete.
It was as if the very moment Yunli laid eyes on that pitch-black greatsword, her mind had been instantly flooded by an ocean of intensely rich emotions and memories, immediately satisfying the Prison Realm's harsh requirements.
—Just what in the world did that girl remember in that one subjective minute?
Mangus couldn't figure it out.
But regardless, successfully sealing the only true S-Rank threat on the board was a massive victory.
Of the four members of the Crychic Squad, Yunli was the only one capable of posing a genuine, physical threat to her grand design. The other three might have had their own unique quirks, but their raw combat power was lacking. They were just flowers in a mirror, utterly inconsequential.
With this thought in mind, she commanded:
"Tole, pick up the Prison Realm."
Because it was a śarīra formed by an enlightened Buddhist monk, the relic possessed a strong, indiscriminate purification aura. If Mangus touched it herself, her Borisin disguise would melt away, revealing her true form as the Lord Ravager, Phantylia.
"Yes, Seer."
Tole slung Tyrant's Barricade onto his back and walked toward the relic containing Yunli.
As an elite of the Eclipse Pack and a top candidate for the title of Borisin Warhead, the Critical-Class warrior had long since suspected Mangus's true identity.
But he chose to ignore it.
If following an outsider disguised as their Brood Mother meant he could lead his people back to glory, allowing them to ruthlessly crush those arrogant Xianzhou bastards underfoot and wash away their past humiliations? Then so be it.
He bent down, extending his thick, hairy palm toward the relic lying quietly in the dirt.
BOOM!
A terrifying anomaly erupted!
A pale, delicate, yet impossibly devastating fist violently shattered its way out of the indestructible relic, violently smashing directly into the face of the Borisin warrior!
"Give it back..."
"GIVE IT BACK TO MEEEEE!!!"
Following the fist was the young girl's apocalyptic roar of pure, untethered rage!
With a single, sickening crunch, the delicate fist shattered Tole's unprotected head as easily as a sledgehammer smashing a ripe watermelon!
Her momentum didn't stop there. Continuing forward, her bloody hand tightly gripped the hilt of the pitch-black greatsword strapped to the headless corpse's back—the hilt of Tyrant's Barricade!
CRACK! The mineral crust enveloping the blade completely shattered, revealing the cold, gleaming, peerless longsword beneath!
Tragically, that was as far as she got.
"Mongke Tengri, chini hüchindeer, ezen daisig hee!—"
(Eternal Blue Sky, by your power, destroy the enemy lord!)
Mangus's twelve blurred faces opened their mouths in unison, chanting a bizarre, ancient, and deeply ominous melody.
Fueled by the incantation, the absolute sealing arts forcefully re-engaged. Despite Yunli's arm violently struggling to break completely free, the crushing spatial pressure ultimately dragged her—along with Tyrant's Barricade gripped tightly in her hand—forcefully back into the confines of the Prison Realm.
Not daring to be careless, Mangus rapidly slapped countless layers of reinforced sealing spells over the relic. Only when she was absolutely certain the girl couldn't break out again did she finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Her gaze shifted slightly, falling on a nearby Borisin soldier who stood frozen in terror after witnessing the horrific scene. Mangus coldly ordered, "You. Pick it up and follow me."
"Y-Yes! Seer!"
The female Borisin snapped out of her daze, her face flushing with uncontrollable excitement and immense pride at being chosen. She practically scrambled forward, carefully scooping up the relic in both hands, and hurried to stand at Mangus's side.
As for the remaining Borisin soldiers? They immediately swarmed forward like a pack of starving hyenas, fanatically tearing into and cannibalizing Tole's headless corpse.
Meanwhile, in a desolate desert far from the battlefield.
Having temporarily cut off contact with their teammates, Fuli and Castorice sat on the scalding sand, staring blankly at each other.
"I mean, we did make contingency plans for worst-case scenarios right from the start," Fuli said, sitting cross-legged and resting his chin in his hand, looking deeply perplexed. "But how do I keep running into apocalyptic crises like this?"
"Keep?" The girl blinked.
"Yeah."
Fuli let out a heavy sigh, giving her a brief, abridged summary of all his past near-death experiences.
Castorice fell silent for a moment before speaking softly, "Lord Fuli, it's said that in this universe... one out of every four people is a natural-born harbinger of disaster."
Her tone was incredibly serious, as if she were citing a well-documented, objective scientific fact.
"Cassie." Fuli slowly turned his head, looking at her with an incredibly strange expression.
"Hm?" Castorice tilted her head, a perfectly measured look of innocent confusion on her face.
"You've got quite the deadpan savage streak, you know that?"
"Um... thank you for the compliment?"
"Don't mention it." Having thoroughly witnessed his teammate's 'natural black' personality, Fuli dusted off his pants and stood up. "Anyway, let's stick to the plan. Use your Zero Red Butterfly to track down the others."
"Understood." Castorice stood up gracefully, quietly following behind him.
Likely because Mangus had locked all her attention on sealing Yunli, the two of them didn't encounter any significant pursuers.
Yet, after walking for several hours, Fuli was starting to feel deeply uncomfortable.
He finally stopped and turned around in exasperation, staring at Castorice—who had just been quietly walking right next to him a second ago, only to instantly dart backward like a startled rabbit to put distance between them.
"My lady, what exactly is the meaning of this?" Fuli threw his hands up. "One second you're close, the next you're far away. Are we playing Red Light, Green Light out here?"
"Well, um..."
A faint, nearly imperceptible blush crept onto the girl's cheeks. Her eyes began to dart around nervously, and her hands unconsciously twisted together in front of her.
Fuli just stared at her. I'm not moving until you spit it out.
Seeing his unyielding stance, Castorice knew she couldn't dodge the question.
She pressed a hand to her chest, speaking with the tone of someone who had gathered immense courage. "Lord Fuli... earlier, during the final moments of our fight with the Borisin army."
"Did you... touch me?"
"Did I?" Fuli tilted his head in thought before realization dawned on him. "Ah! Yeah, I did!"
The situation had been insanely critical. This stubborn girl had insisted on staying behind as the rearguard, even though her combat stats were severely crippled by the enemy formation. In a panic, Fuli had grabbed her shoulder and forcefully hurled her backward onto the launchpad.
With that reminder, Fuli finally understood why Castorice had been acting so bizarrely the entire trek.
The girl standing in front of him was a Golden Bloodline. Because of her terrifying, innate constitution, she was forever tethered to death. Any living being her fingertips touched would instantly wither and die.
While it was uncertain how this affected Sequence or S-Rank powerhouses, it was an absolute law for anyone at the Critical-Class or below.
And yet, Fuli was perfectly fine.
Honestly, his survival didn't surprise him. Back when they had first met, he had actively wondered if his Stigmata of Death could grant him immunity to her death-bringing blessing.
He just hadn't wanted to test it on a whim. If his immunity failed, he would have wasted a precious revival charge for absolutely no reason.
Yes, theoretically, his Molting Rebirth allowed for infinite resurrections as long as he had enough energy. But the catch was that every time he revived, his physical body de-aged!
This was the exact reason Fuli never used his resurrections to intentionally grind for damage resistances. Peerless Nine Turns was a hyper-adaptive organ, not something that magically turned him into the Herrscher of Finality.
Every single time he died, his physical age regressed by several months upon revival.
If he died fifty times, he would literally shrink back down into a zygote! By that point, how was it any different from actual death?
Even Big Sis Rita wouldn't be thrilled about that level of de-aging!
(Illustration: Castorice)
...