Atlas's Heart

Atlas paled, his mind racing. "You know, Master Daokan, I do believe that we've learned a valuable lesson today. Strength, endurance, perseverance—really, there's no need to continue, is there?"

Master Daokan folded his arms, his expression almost amused. "You've been under my skin more times than anyone else I've ever met, Atlas. More than emperors, nobles, disciples, sect leaders—every single one. And now, you've even gotten under my daughter skin as well. It's only fair."

Atlas gulped. He had talked his way out of countless situations before, manipulating, redirecting, charming—but now he was facing something worse than sheer stubbornness.

This wasn't just about martial arts. This was an agenda.

He had never met someone he couldn't manipulate unless they were either too naturally stubborn or had something to gain. Even the stubborn he has made them danced on his palms but Master Daokan? He had both.

Layla watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Atlas. She knew his tricks, had seen him talk circles around people and escape situations no one else could. He was infuriating, but also... strangely entertaining.

"I can't believe he's finally out of options," she murmured to Jiang.

Jiang smirked. "About time someone corners him. He's played you enough, hasn't he?"

Layla rolled her eyes. "Please. If he thinks he's getting out of this one, he's delusional."

Atlas forced a weak chuckle. "Surely, a civilized discussion—"

"Step into the ring, Atlas." Master Daokan gestured toward the arena.

Shen Xue cracked her knuckles, rolling her shoulders with a smirk. "I've been waiting for this."

Atlas turned to her, hands raised in mock surrender. "Now, Shen, let's not be hasty. I would never want to sully our wonderful, professional relationship with something as barbaric as a fight."

Shen Xue tilted her head. "Oh? Because let's go about that. You not only sully the grand hall which frankly even the current Emperor honoured, you made it a like a circus, Bao carrying you like a king and you making many things drop which frankly, would take even more than your body to pay it back.''

Atlas coughed. "I may have been...active..?" 

Shen Xue cracked her knuckles louder. "No, you weren't."

Atlas exhaled sharply and turned toward the rack of wooden training weapons at the side of the ring. If he had to fight, he needed something—anything—to at least look like he stood a chance. His eyes darted over the options: a wooden spear, a wooden sword, a wooden staff, a wooden longsword, and wooden daggers.

He ran a quick mental calculation. A spear would give him range, but he had absolutely no experience using one, and Shen Xue would likely disarm him in seconds. A sword? Too predictable, and she probably knew how to counter every style of swordplay in existence. The staff? He could at least try to keep his distance, but it required finesse—finesse he lacked. A longsword was heavier, unwieldy, and Shen Xue didn't seem like someone he could outmuscle. And daggers? Close combat with Shen Xue was a death sentence.

His stomach twisted. No matter what he chose, he was a prey walking into a slaughter. The real question wasn't which weapon would help him win—it was which one would help him survive long enough to run away if needed.

He remembered back when the first time he encountered Shen Xue —when she pressed a needle against his throat, her expression utterly unreadable. That was when he realized she was different. Calculated. Deadly.

His mind pieced together what he knew about her. She was probably light on her feet, graceful maybe but most efficient. Her strength probably wasn't in brute force but in speed, precision, and knowing exactly where to strike to cause the most damage. Atlas recalled the brief sensation of cold steel when she held the needle to his skin, the way she positioned herself to maximize control with minimal effort.

His gaze flickered back to the weapon rack. If she relied on precision, his best bet was something unpredictable, something that forced her to react instead of dictate the flow of battle.

His hand hesitated, then settled on the wooden staff. It had range, and though he had no finesse, he could at least swing it wildly and hope to keep her from closing in too quickly. He wasn't delusional enough to think he could win—but if he played it right, he might just last long enough to call this a "learning experience."

"Huh," Layla murmured, watching as Shen Xue made her way toward the weapon rack. "Let's see what she picks."

To her surprise, Shen Xue reached for the wooden longsword. Layla's brows rose slightly. "Interesting."

Jiang glanced at her. "What?"

"Atlas just spent all that time analyzing her precision-based fighting style," Layla mused. "But now she's using a longsword. That means whatever deduction he made earlier is now completely useless. This is going to be a good show."

Meanwhile, Atlas watched as Shen Xue lifted the longsword with ease. He blinked. Then blinked again. His brain refused to process the betrayal of logic he was witnessing.

"What?" he muttered. "No. No, that's not right."

He had been expecting daggers. Maybe a needle, or something similarly delicate. But a longsword? He wasn't prepared for that.

Atlas turned back to Master Daokan, raising a hesitant hand. "Hypothetically speaking, am I allowed to use more than one weapon?"

Master Daokan gave him a flat stare. "Why?"

Atlas cleared his throat. "Oh, no reason. Just a scholarly inquiry. You see, as an intellectual, I believe in thorough research and adaptable strategies. It would be a grave disservice to the art of combat if I were limited in my choice of tools."

Shen Xue smirked, resting the blade on her shoulder. "You're panicking."

"Me? Panicking?" Atlas let out a forced chuckle. "Pffft. Please. This is just... tactical recalibration. A moment of strategic enlightenment."

Master Daokan sighed. "Use as many weapons as you wish. It will not change the outcome."

Atlas perked up slightly. "Oh? A generous and wise decision, Master Daokan. Truly, your fairness knows no bounds."

Shen Xue raised an eyebrow. "You're going to need all the help you can get."

Atlas placed a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Yes, yes, but let's consider the optics of this. Shen Xue, daughter of the great Master Daokan, a warrior of unparalleled skill, choosing to wield multiple weapons against little old me? A simple, unassuming scholar? Doesn't that seem... dishonourable?"

Shen Xue narrowed her eyes. "What are you getting at?"

Atlas sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "I mean, if I, a humble man of intellect, were to choose one single weapon while you, a prodigy of combat, required multiple... what would that say about your confidence? Your honour as a warrior?"

Shen Xue's grip on the longsword tightened slightly. Layla, watching from the sidelines, nearly choked on a laugh. "Oh, he's really doing it."

Jiang smirked. "He's actually trying to guilt-trip her into fighting fair."

Master Daokan watched in bemusement but said nothing, letting his daughter handle it.

Shen Xue's gaze bore into Atlas. For a moment, she seemed genuinely considering his words before scoffing. "Nice try. You're still going to lose."

Atlas sighed, shrugging. "Ah, but at least I lose with dignity. Now, let's begin."

Atlas took a deep breath and adjusted the weapons he had selected. His primary choice was the wooden staff, giving him the best chance to keep Shen Xue at bay. As a backup, he tucked a wooden dagger at his waist—something he hoped he wouldn't have to use. Finally, strapped to his back was a wooden spear, an option he could switch to if things got desperate.

Jiang, watching from the sidelines, nudged Lin Wuye with a smirk. "Does Atlas have any conceivable way of lasting more than five seconds?"

Lin Wuye exhaled, shaking his head. "Against the daughter of Master Daokan? The same Shen Xue who restored all our qi points earlier, on par with Yan? No. Not unless he discovers a hidden divine bloodline in the next few seconds."

Layla folded her arms, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Honestly, I just want to see how long he keeps talking before Shen Xue gets tired of it and smashes him into the ground."

Master Daokan raised his hand, signalling the start of the match. "Begin."

Atlas took an exaggerated step back, twirling his staff in a way that was meant to look impressive but only succeeded in making him seem wildly uncoordinated. "Now, Shen, let's talk about this rationally. Fighting is such a crude method of conflict resolution—"

Shen Xue lunged.

Atlas barely had time to react before she was upon him, her longsword slicing through the air with practiced precision. He stumbled back, using the staff to desperately block the strike, but the sheer force of the impact sent vibrations rattling through his arms.

"Hah!" he forced a laugh. "You're fast, but I—"

Another strike. This time, he barely managed to twist his body in time to avoid taking a direct hit. Shen Xue's movements were fluid, relentless, like a predator toying with its prey.

Jiang smirked. "Three seconds. Not bad."

Lin Wuye chuckled. "He's still breathing, which is a surprise."

Atlas decided now was the time for a tactical retreat. He jumped back, reaching behind him to grab the spear strapped to his back. With a dramatic flourish, he pointed it at Shen Xue. "Ah-ha! Behold, the weapon of warriors!"

Shen Xue tilted her head. "You don't know how to use that, do you?"

Atlas hesitated. "That's subjective."

She sighed, then moved again. He thrust the spear wildly, hoping to create some distance, but Shen Xue was already too close. With a swift motion, she sidestepped his attack, grabbed the spear shaft, and wrenched it from his grip before tossing it effortlessly across the arena.

Atlas blinked. "Right. Expected that."

Layla laughed. "Five seconds. He's exceeding expectations."

Atlas exhaled sharply and pulled the dagger from his waist. "Plan C!"

Shen Xue's smirk grew wider. "You mean 'Plan Desperation'?"

Atlas had no response—mainly because Shen Xue was already coming at him again.

She moved with deceptive ease, her sword slicing through the air in slow, deliberate arcs. To the untrained eye, it might seem like she was merely warming up, but Layla could see the truth. "She's toying with him," she muttered. "She's barely using a fraction of her strength. Even Bao would put up a better fight than this tragedy."

Jiang nodded. "She's testing him. Seeing how long it takes before he runs out of tricks."

Atlas, meanwhile, was sweating bullets. His mind raced as he dodged and parried, barely keeping up. "Now, Shen, let's be reasonable," he said between hurried breaths, sidestepping yet another swipe. "I am but a humble scholar! A man of intellect! Would you strike down an unarmed philosopher?"

Shen Xue scoffed. "You're armed. And you're not a philosopher."

"Minor details," Atlas said, ducking under another swing. "But let's think about this logically. Wouldn't it be a more valuable use of your time to fight someone, I don't know, worthier?"

She lunged, forcing Atlas to stumble backward. "Oh? And who do you propose?"

"Jiang!" Atlas pointed wildly. "Jiang is strong. Trained. He—"

Jiang crossed his arms. "Not a chance."

Atlas let out a strangled laugh, narrowly avoiding a downward slash. "Master Lin Wuye! A legendary warrior! Surely, a more engaging opponent!"

Lin Wuye smiled. "You're on your own, Atlas."

Atlas groaned, barely managing to sidestep before Shen Xue's blade although wood nearly took his arm off. "You're all heartless!"

Layla laughed. "Oh, I'm loving this."

Master Daokan watched the fight unfold, his expression unreadable. "He's clever, but cleverness alone won't save him."

Yan Shuren, his trusted disciple, crossed his arms. "It's amusing, though. I've never seen someone try so hard to avoid a fight while actively fighting."

Ren, the youngest yet already an undeniable prodigy, observed with keen interest. "He's adapting. Not efficiently, but he's trying. It's almost admirable."

Meyu, standing beside them, sighed. "Almost. He talks a lot, but he's still going to get beaten into the ground."

Yue Wuye, watched with an amused glint in her eye. "I think he knows that. But still, he fights in his own way. It may not be the strongest, but it's uniquely him."

Atlas, meanwhile, had somehow backed himself into a corner, staff gripped tightly as Shen Xue advanced. "Now, now, let's not be rash. What if we—"

Shen Xue swung. Atlas yelped and barely ducked, the force of the strike sending a rush of air past his face. The sheer pressure of the blow carved into the ground behind him, rustling the trees at the edges of the arena. Leaves tore from their branches, scattering like frightened birds. Even the spectators felt the impact ripple through the air, a gust washing over them like a stormfront.

Atlas blinked at the destruction behind him. "Okay, okay! How about a break? Just a small one? Water break? No?"

Shen Xue grinned. "No."

Out of pure spite, she channelled a fraction of her qi, sending a controlled yet forceful strike toward Atlas. The very air around her vibrated from the sheer pressure.

But the moment it made contact, the energy crackled and dissipated, swallowed by an unseen force. Instead of immediately reflecting back, the energy lingered within Atlas, coursing through his body like a foreign entity seeking to root itself. His limbs twitched involuntarily, an uncomfortable heat pooling within his heart. The shockwave should have rebounded, but instead, it resides within Atlas. Shen Xue barely tilted her head, watching curiously as the energy sputtered and fizzled against his skin, yet did not lash back toward her.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh?"

Atlas, oblivious to what just happened, flailed in panic, his body feeling strangely heavier, like something unnatural was pressing against his insides. He barely managed to duck. He hadn't even realized what his own body had done.

"Ha! Missed!" he blurted out, before immediately scrambling out of the way of another precise blow.

The next few moments were a chaotic display of comedic dodging—Atlas twisting, rolling, and flinging himself to the side in ways that resembled more of a dance than actual combat. "Too slow!" he taunted before tripping over his own foot and narrowly avoiding what would have been a direct hit to his ribs.

Layla snorted. "This is both the worst and best fight I've ever seen."

But his luck couldn't last forever.

Shen Xue finally adjusted, realizing that her Qi-based attacks were useless. With one well-placed strike, she abandoned energy entirely and relied on sheer physical force, slamming the blunt force of her longsword squarely into his stomach. The impact sent him flying backward, his entire body feeling as though it had been struck by a battering ram.

Atlas hit the ground with a loud thud, gasping as the wind was knocked out of him. But beyond the pain, a deeper, more insidious sensation churned inside him. The energy he had absorbed was still there, refusing to leave, slowly poisoning his very being. His limbs twitched violently as he tried to process what was happening.

Jiang winced. "Oof. That looked painful."

Lin Wuye chuckled. "He doesn't have Qi to soften the blow. But... did you see that? The Qi attack didn't affect him."

Jiang furrowed his brow. "Wait. That energy didn't fully return to Shen Could it be that Atlas's body absorbs Qi?"

Yan Shuren crossed his arms. "There are two possibilities. Either his body acts as a vessel, temporarily holding qi until he expels it through physical contact—or, worse, his body simply has no way to regulate qi at all, meaning it will keep accumulating until it tears him apart from the inside."

Jiang frowned. "So either he has to fight back, or he'll be dealing with something far worse than just losing this match?"

Yan Shuren nodded. "Exactly. But there's another question to consider. If his body cannot regulate Qi, what happens when he finally releases it?"

Lin Wuye, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "There are two likely outcomes. If his body is merely storing the Qi, then when he does release it, it will be uncontrolled—wild, chaotic, and potentially destructive to himself and those around him. However, if his body fundamentally rejects Qi as a foreign entity, then forcing it out could damage his meridians beyond repair. Either way, the longer he holds it in, the worse it becomes."

Jiang frowned. "So he's either a ticking time bomb or slowly poisoning himself just by standing there?"

Lin Wuye sighed. "Exactly. Either he learns how to consciously control and release it, or he won't make it out of this fight in one piece."

Master Daokan, arms crossed, observed Atlas with a contemplative expression. "The question is, what happens if he does manage to release it?"

Yan Shuren glanced at him. "You're worried about the scale of the effect?"

Master Daokan nodded. "If his body is storing Qi without control, then the release could be catastrophic. If it's simply expelled, it might just disperse harmlessly. But if it rebounds with equal force..." He trailed off, letting the implication settle.

Yue Wuye frowned. "That would mean anyone in range could be affected. Depending on how much he's absorbed, it could cripple him or even Shen herself."

Ren, watching closely, finally spoke. "Should we intervene if it comes to that?"

Master Daokan remained silent for a moment before exhaling. "No. Not yet. He needs to figure it out himself. But if it spirals out of control, then we step in. Atlas has been a headache for too long, but I have no intention of watching him die today."

Atlas wheezed, lifting a trembling hand. "Objection... to... this entire situation..."

A sharp, searing sensation coiled within his chest, unlike anything he had ever experienced. It wasn't just pain—it was something worse. It felt like his own body was trying to reject itself, like an unnatural force was twisting through his veins, trying to find an exit. His limbs felt heavy, his breath uneven, his heart hammering as if it were moments away from shattering. Every fiber of his being screamed at him that something was wrong.

And yet, Atlas scoffed, letting out a breathy chuckle. "Tch... is that all?"

Because to him, no pain could ever compare to his past.

The stench of burning wood and iron filled his lungs. The cries of desperation, the metallic taste of blood in the air, the overwhelming heat—all of it had been etched into his very soul. He had stood amidst the wreckage of his old life, watching it crumble, powerless to do anything but survive.

Pain? Pain had been starvation in the gutters, wounds left untreated, betrayals from those he once trusted. Pain was learning that the world had no mercy for the weak, that suffering was inevitable unless you found a way to stand above it all.

Pain was realizing no one was coming to save him.

So no, whatever this was—this roiling storm inside his body, this creeping venom in his bloodstream—this was nothing.

Nothing compared to what he had already endured.

Atlas exhaled sharply, shaking off the lingering echoes of the past. But his body disagreed. The storm within him raged stronger now, an unbearable heat pooling deeper into his core, sinking into his bones like molten iron. Every breath felt heavier, like his lungs were filling with something thick and suffocating. His fingertips trembled as they clenched around his staff, veins subtly pulsing with an unnatural glow that flickered in and out of sight.

Shen Xue noticed it first, pausing in mid-stride. Her eyes flickered to his hands, her usual smirk fading just slightly. "Huh."

From the sidelines, Lin Wuye narrowed his eyes. "His body's reacting. The Qi inside him is still building up."

Jiang scoffed. "At this rate, it doesn't matter if he fights back—his body might break apart before he figures it out."

Atlas, meanwhile, took a shaky step forward, finally managing to parry one of Shen Xue's held-back strikes. He barely registered the motion, his mind split between the fight and the unbearable heat searing through his body. "Oh wow, would you look at that? I blocked something. Let's all take a moment to appreciate this historic event."

Shen Xue arched an eyebrow. "You're still joking?"

Atlas forced a grin. "Of course. If I stop, I might actually process how much pain I'm in, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" The moment his staff met her blade, something in the air shifted. A faint, invisible ripple pulsed outward, a flicker of force that Shen Xue instinctively recognized.

She adjusted her grip. "So you can parry now? Let's see how long that lasts."

Atlas groaned, shifting his stance. "Can we at least pretend I have a chance? Maybe give me an honorary warrior title? Atlas the... uh... Enduring? That has a nice ring to it."

Shen Xue lunged again. Atlas barely blocked in time, his staff vibrating violently from the impact. The pain inside him twisted, tightening like a vice. He winced but forced out another quip. "Oh no, is that the best you've got? I expected more from the great Shen Xue!"

Atlas barely had time to react before she struck again, this time faster. He managed to block once more, but the pain in his core worsened, like the very act of resisting her was accelerating the turmoil inside him. His breath hitched as another wave of agony crawled up his spine.

Meyu frowned, watching from the sidelines. "His face is getting pale. And... is it just me, or does he look different?"

Ren tilted his head. "His aura is shifting. The more he fights, the more unstable his presence feels."

Master Daokan exhaled slowly. "His body wasn't meant to handle Qi. But right now, it's trying to adapt, whether he wants it to or not."

Atlas staggered slightly, his vision flickering. His limbs twitched with an unnatural energy, his breathing ragged. He glanced at his own hands, the veins beneath his skin glowing faintly. "Okay. New problem. I think I might explode. And not in a cool way. More like a 'pieces of me end up in different provinces' kind of way."

Meyu covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. "He's still talking like that?"

Lin Wuye exhaled. "It's probably a coping mechanism."

Jiang smirked. "Or a death wish."

Atlas, refusing to acknowledge the severity of his situation, wiped the sweat off his brow with a shaky hand. "Shen, I have to say, for someone so deadly, you really do have unfair advantages. You're quick, precise, and let's be honest—frankly too good-looking for me to focus properly. This is psychological warfare. I demand compensation."

Shen Xue's eye twitched.

Layla snorted. "Oh, he's going to regret that."

Shen Xue exhaled, rolling her shoulders before gripping her longsword with both hands. "Fine. I'll make sure you stop talking."

She moved. Faster. The blade became a blur as Qi flared around her, amplifying her strikes. Atlas barely managed to parry the first blow, the impact rattling through his bones. The second one sent him skidding back, his feet struggling to find balance. The third? He wasn't fast enough.

The longsword slammed into his side, sending a shockwave through the ground beneath him. The earth cracked under the force, a spiderweb of fractures spreading outward. His clothes tore at the edges, the fabric unable to withstand the sheer weight of the strike.

Atlas let out a wheezing laugh as he stumbled. "I... I feel like that was personal."

Shen Xue scoffed. "Oh, it was."

The pain in Atlas's core deepened. His body convulsed slightly as more Qi poured into him, absorbed upon impact. His limbs felt heavier, his breath more erratic. The glow pulsing through his veins brightened, the energy inside him reaching an unbearable threshold.

Meyu's smile faded. "His body... it's breaking down, isn't it?"

Lin Wuye's expression darkened. "He's absorbing too much, and it's not dispersing. If he doesn't find a way to let it out soon, it won't matter how much pain he's used to—his body will tear itself apart."

Layla's smirk faded as she watched Atlas's erratic movements. His attacks were no longer calculated—or as calculated as his usually sloppy combat could be. Now, they were instinctual, wild.

"Wait… he's still attacking?"

Shen Xue frowned, sidestepping another swing of his staff with ease. "He's not thinking anymore." Another strike came at her, and again she parried effortlessly. "His body is moving on its own."

The atmosphere around them shifted. Even as Shen Xue countered every move, something felt off. Atlas, despite the clear agony in his face, kept advancing. He had no technique, no form—only a desperate, automatic response to the energy wreaking havoc inside him. His body wanted to expel it, and the only way it knew how was to keep hitting her.

Shen Xue's grip on her sword tightened. "If this continues—"

"Enough," Master Daokan's voice cut through the arena, his tone firm. "Shen Xue, do not use Qi strikes anymore. If you do, you may push him past the point of return."

Shen Xue hesitated but ultimately lowered her stance slightly. "Understood."

Lin Wuye exhaled, now focused entirely on Atlas's movements. "We need to be ready to stop him if this gets worse. If he loses control completely, we might not be dealing with just a match anymore."

Atlas, ever the opportunist, let out a weak chuckle despite his rapidly deteriorating condition. "Well, at least if I explode, you'll all remember me as a trailblazer in the fine art of self-destruction."

Shen Xue's grip tightened further. "Shut up and stop moving."

Atlas, of course, did neither.

Instead, his instincts took over once more. His body jerked forward without his consent, swinging the staff wildly at Shen Xue. She parried effortlessly, but he didn't stop. Every blocked strike sent another wave of agony rippling through him, the qi inside growing more volatile, more unstable.

The wooden staff in his hands began to change.

The air around it shimmered unnaturally, distorting like heatwaves on a summer road. The once ordinary wood darkened, almost as if absorbing the same energy wreaking havoc inside him. Faint lines of glowing inscriptions—symbols no one could immediately recognize—etched themselves along the shaft.

Layla's eyes widened. "Is that... manifesting?"

Master Daokan's expression darkened. "No. It's reacting to him."

Jiang took a step forward. "That's never happened before, has it?"

Lin Wuye shook his head. "No. And considering the state he's in, we have no idea what will happen next."

Atlas's consciousness finally slipped. His vision tunnelled, the world around him dissolving into darkness.

He was somewhere else.

A city, one long lost to time, loomed over him. Towering buildings, blackened by soot and fire, stretched endlessly into the sky. The air was thick with smoke, suffocating, oppressive. Screams echoed through the alleyways, fleeting and desperate before being swallowed by silence. The scent of iron and ash clung to everything, seeping into his skin like an old curse that refused to fade.

Atlas knew this place. He wished he didn't.

A younger version of himself staggered through the ruins, barefoot and clad in rags. His stomach twisted with hunger, his limbs weak from exhaustion. He clutched a small pouch close to his chest—his only possession, filled with scraps barely worth eating. His breathing was shallow, every step heavier than the last.

Then, the voices came.

"Oi, look at this one."

Atlas stiffened. He turned, met with the sight of three older boys blocking the alley's only exit. Their clothes were better—patched but sturdy. Their eyes were sharp, cruel. Predators who had long since learned that the world favored the strong.

"Didn't we tell you?" the tallest one sneered. "This is our street."

Atlas took a step back, his grip on the pouch tightening. "I found this first."

The second boy laughed, a rough sound like gravel scraping against metal. "And now we're finding it for ourselves. Hand it over."

Atlas shook his head. He had fought too hard for this. He wasn't going to let them take it. Not again. Not this time.

But his body was too weak, his arms too frail. When the first punch came, he couldn't even raise his hands in time to block it. Pain exploded in his ribs as he was knocked to the ground, dust rising around him. The second kick sent his pouch flying from his grasp.

"No—!"

The third boy grabbed it before he could, shaking it open and sneering at the pitiful contents. "Barely enough for a rat. You really thought you'd get away with this?"

Atlas gasped for breath, fingers digging into the dirt. On the cold road. Nobody around. He forced himself onto his hands and knees, his body screaming in protest. He had to stand. Had to fight. But he was just a starving, broken child. And they were bigger. Stronger.

Pain? He had learned pain long before this moment. The bruises, the hunger, the loneliness—those had become constants, things he simply endured. But that day, something inside him had truly broken.

Because as they laughed and walked away, leaving him in the dust, Atlas realized something worse than pain—

Powerlessness.

Meanwhile, in the real world, Atlas's body moved eerily in sync with Shen Xue, his reflexes sharpened despite his unconscious state. Every strike she made, he countered—sloppily, but effectively. But with each clash, his body trembled, his breath becoming more erratic. The energy inside him was no longer just unstable; it was growing.

Shen Xue frowned. "This isn't right."

Layla's eyes widened as she observed him more closely. Then, realization struck. "Wait… he's not just absorbing it anymore."

Meyu turned to her, panic rising in her voice. "What do you mean?"

Layla swallowed hard. "He's pulling in energy from the environment. Look at the weapons rack."

They turned, and their stomachs dropped. The wooden weapons—swords, spears, staffs—were crumbling into dust, the energy within them siphoned away. But worse, far worse—

Master Daokan stiffened. "Everyone. Hold your Qi."

The masters around the arena exchanged alarmed glances. They could feel it now—Atlas wasn't just absorbing energy from Shen Xue's strikes. He was pulling at the very essence around him. Even their own Qi trembled, as if being drawn toward him.

Yuxe Wuye placed a gentle hand on Meyu's shoulder, sensing her distress. "It will be fine. Master Daokan will handle it."

But as she said it, her gaze never left Atlas. Because deep down, even she wasn't certain of that anymore.

Then, suddenly, Atlas's body convulsed. A deep, guttural sound escaped his throat as the energy trapped within him reached its breaking point. His veins, glowing like molten lines beneath his skin, pulsed violently. The energy within him, wild and untamed, surged to the surface.

A massive shockwave erupted from his core, the sheer force sending tremors through the ground. The moment his staff struck downward—whether by instinct or fate—the very earth beneath Shen Xue cracked apart. The force carved a deep, jagged rift behind her, splitting the arena floor in two. The ground didn't simply break; it was as if an invisible blade had carved through the stone itself, exposing layers of earth that had remained undisturbed for centuries. The rift extended far beyond the arena, jagged and raw, a terrifying display of uncontrolled power.

Shen Xue's breath hitched. For the first time in the fight, her eyes widened—not out of surprise, but out of genuine alarm. She had been prepared for many things, but not this. Not an attack of this magnitude from someone who had no control over his own energy. Her instincts screamed at her to move, but even she had hesitated for just a fraction of a second, thrown off by the sheer destruction behind her.

Layla, Meyu, and Yuxe Wuye were caught in the aftermath, the force of the strike sending a powerful gust outward, strong enough to knock them off balance. They staggered back, barely able to stay on their feet as the shockwave rattled the entire arena. Beyond the arena, the shockwave had not gone unnoticed.

In the heart of Jinhai City, merchants and travelers alike paused as the distant sound of the explosion reached their ears. Birds scattered from the rooftops, and the very air seemed to hum with residual energy. The city guards, stationed at the high walls, exchanged uneasy glances. Even the sect elders, deep in meditation within their chambers, opened their eyes as a ripple of unseen force passed through their surroundings.

Meanwhile, within the Imperial Palace of Jinhai, the current Emperor, Jinhai sat in quiet contemplation within his grand chamber, surrounded by his advisors and generals. The shockwave sent a subtle tremor through the air, making the golden incense burners sway slightly. The Emperor's eyes snapped open, sharp and calculating, as he immediately recognized the disturbance for what it was—a release of power unlike any in recent memory.

A moment later, he turned toward one of his royal investigators, his voice calm yet firm. "Find the source. Immediately."

The official bowed deeply. "At once, Your Majesty."

The Emperor remained seated, fingers steepled together as he stared at the horizon beyond his palace walls. He was one of the few in the world who could match Master Daokan in raw strength and wisdom. And if something had shaken even the heavens themselves, it was not something he could ignore.

Far beyond the Regime of Jin, across the vast ocean, within the towering halls of the underground network in Europe, Emery, seated amidst an array of intricate equations and sketches, felt the faint disturbance as if it were a whisper carried by the wind. His fingers froze mid-turn over a page of old parchment, his gaze flickering toward the horizon.

"Well now," Emery murmured, drumming his fingers against the table. "Isn't that interesting?"

What... the hell?" Layla muttered, brushing dust off her sleeves as she regained her footing.

Meyu's heart pounded in her chest. "That wasn't just a normal energy release. That was—"

Then she noticed something else.

All eyes remained on Atlas, who remained unconscious, his body finally still. But the rift behind Shen Xue remained—a scar in the earth, and a warning to all who had witnessed it.

A hush fell over the spectators. Even the masters, for the first time in a long while, were left momentarily speechless.

Master Daokan, however, was the first to recover, his voice low but firm. "That technique... I recognize it. It is not something he should be able to do."

Lin Wuye, still processing what he had just witnessed, exhaled sharply. "If I'm not mistaken... that was an incomplete form of the Devouring Pulse. But it shouldn't exist in someone like him. He has no cultivated Qi. No formal training. How is this possible?"

Jiang, arms crossed, muttered, "And more importantly... what happens if he does it again?"

Lin Wuye's gaze lingered on Atlas's unconscious form, his mind racing through possibilities. "That's the question, isn't it? If his body can naturally absorb Qi, then release it in such a destructive manner... he might not have any control over when it happens. This was incomplete, unstable. If he does it again, the next one could be worse."

Master Daokan took a slow step forward, his expression unreadable as he extended his hand toward Atlas. His qi flared subtly as he analyzed the boy's state, his senses stretching deep within him. Then, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Fascinating," he murmured. "His Qi is... gone. It's returned to nothing, as if it never existed at all."

Lin Wuye's brows furrowed. "As it should have been. His body isn't meant to retain Qi yet for a brief moment, it harnessed an immense force beyond reason. And now, it's simply vanished? That should be impossible."

Master Daokan straightened, his expression firm. "Whatever just happened, his body has reset. But that doesn't mean he's unharmed. He's in a deep coma. His core may be empty again, but the strain on his body and mind... he won't wake up anytime soon."

Before anyone else could react, Meyu rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside Atlas. "Atlas!" Her voice cracked as she shook his shoulder lightly, her hands trembling.

"You idiot, wake up! You always talk your way out of things, so talk your way out of this!"

Her breaths came unsteady, panic settling deep in her chest. Atlas had always been unbreakable—annoying, infuriating, reckless—but unbreakable. And yet now, he looked so still, so fragile, his usually sharp and witty face eerily quiet.

Yuxe Wuye followed behind her, kneeling gracefully before placing a reassuring hand on Meyu's shoulder. "He's alive," she murmured, her voice a calm contrast to the storm raging in Meyu's heart. "Master Daokan will ensure he's taken care of. He will wake up."

Meyu squeezed her eyes shut, gripping Atlas's torn sleeve tightly. "He better. He always gets out of things. Always. He talks, he schemes, he finds a way. He wouldn't—he can't just—" Her voice broke, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Not like this."

Her fingers trembled as they clutched his sleeve, as if holding on tightly enough would keep him from slipping away.

"He's all I have left."

Yuxe Wuye knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "He's not gone, Meyu. He's just... lost right now. But he'll find his way back. He always does."

Meyu hiccupped, burying her face against Yuxe Wuye's shoulder, her body shaking. "He's an idiot. A reckless, frustrating idiot.''

Yuxe Wuye stroked her hair gently, her voice soft. "Then trust him to be that idiot. To fight his way back."

Meyu squeezed her eyes shut, nodding against her. "He has to."

Layla, still standing a few steps away, folded her arms. Unlike the others, she didn't rush forward, but that didn't mean she felt nothing. Even in her past life, hardened as she was, she had never been immune to moments like this. Her fingers tightened around her sleeve.

"Damn you, Atlas... you always find a way to make things worse."

Despite her words, there was no mockery in her tone. Only a rare flicker of something else—concern.

 "So, what do we do with him?"

Master Daokan exhaled. "We ensure he survives first. And then, we prepare for when he wakes up. Because this is only the beginning."

Layla's gaze lingered on Atlas's still form for a moment longer before she exhaled sharply, shaking her head. As much as she cared, survival was still her priority. The coming winter wouldn't wait for anyone, and no amount of sentiment would keep their people from freezing.

She straightened, crossing her arms. "As cruel as it might sound, I need to head back tomorrow. We need supplies, and I don't intend to sit around waiting when there's work to be done. So, who's going to take care of him?"

Master Daokan didn't hesitate. "I will." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "Shen Xue will assist me."

Shen Xue nodded in agreement. "I'll help. It was my match with him that caused this. It's only right that I take responsibility."

Layla gave them a long look before arching an eyebrow. "And what about when he wakes up? I assume you have some plan beyond just keeping him breathing?"

Master Daokan's expression didn't change. "He'll be useful. He's already proved he can survive in the most unexpected ways. Perhaps it's time we officially make him our own personal merchant as well''

Meyu, who had been silent up until now, visibly bristled. "Are you seriously—"

Before she could go off, Yuxe Wuye gently placed a hand on her arm and turned to Meilin. "We will leave tomorrow. Master Daokan has already ensured that we will be more than adequately treated in the main city."

Layla, still watching Atlas, nodded slowly. "Then let's make sure we're ready."

Meyu stood in silence, her gaze fixed on Atlas's unconscious form. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides as she wrestled with the decision before her. Atlas had always been the one to push forward, the one to take risks while she stood at his side. Now, for the first time, he wouldn't be there to lead the charge.

Yuxe Wuye, sensing her turmoil, spoke gently. "You don't have to decide now, Meyu. But whatever choice you make, it should be for yourself, not just for him."

Meyu swallowed hard. "If I go with the Silver Lotus, I can handle Atlas's business. Make sure everything he built doesn't fall apart while he's like this. But... if I stay..." Her voice wavered.

"If I stay, I can make sure he's not alone when he wakes up."

She turned to Master Daokan, her expression torn. "If I stay, will I be allowed to?" Master Daokan studied her for a long moment before nodding. "If that is your decision, then yes."

Meyu inhaled sharply, glancing one last time at Atlas. She had followed him for so long, through every scheme and reckless gamble, through victories and failures alike. Now, for once, she had to decide for herself.

"I need to think about it," she finally admitted.

Yuxe Wuye gave her a small nod. "Then think quickly. Whatever you choose, we leave at dawn."