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Chapter 347: Going All-Out
🕑 Added 2024-01-10 17:36:00 +0000 UTCJack’s fists were burning. His heart swam with passion, his eyes wide open in extreme focus.
His punch shot forward. An effective strength of almost five thousand carried it onto the shadow’s sword, through it, and into its face. The shadow exploded in a thousand tiny stars.
Jack paused. His grin widened into a full-blown smile. Last time he was here, this first shadow had taken a lot of effort to defeat…but now, it only took one punch.
The feeling of progress was addictive.
As the shadow died down, two formed in its place. One wielded a mace and the other a staff—a warrior and a wizard. Last time, these two opponents had driven Jack close to the limit of his abilities.
He rushed forward before they were even done forming. His fists sailed forth. The mace wielder blocked them, galvanizing its domain of metal, while the wizard teleported behind Jack and pelted him with fireballs. For a time, the globe became carnage. Blue flames licked the walls, parted by gray metal. There was little chance to see anything—Jack was moving purely based on his Dao perception.
A fireball flew for his face. He could have teleported out of the way, but he wanted to save his energy. He punched it directly. The ball erupted in a shower of sparks, raising the temperature to hundreds of degrees, but it was nothing to Jack’s tempered body. He didn’t even use his Dao to defend—he poured it all into attacking.
As the mace wielder fell on him, a meteor sprang into existence. The light and heat of the flames was sucked in. The shockwaves reverted, tamed by the mother of all explosions. The world went still—and then erupted. A star died on the shadow’s mace. Metal shattered, the gray domain cracked, and the shadow was blasted against the back wall with enough force to ricochet. Before it could even land, Jack was sieging the wizard, dancing at the edge of his range.
Space warped before him. It turned into a spike that jutted forth. If a person’s body was struck by that, they would explode and paint the globe with their innards.
However, magic was only as strong as its wielder. While this shadow wizard was an early C-Grade, it was not particularly outstanding—far weaker than Don Cranxiao had been. Facing its attack, Jack didn’t back down. His hand shot out, coated in purple. He reached inside the space spike and directly twisted it apart, destroying by sheer power.
Lacerations appeared on Jack’s skin as it was stretched, but they healed quickly. His other fist shot out as well, impacting the wizard’s shielding spell, then its face, and breaking both. The shadow dissipated into motes of light.
The globe didn’t give him time to rest. True to its name, it instantly summoned three more shadows, each stronger than the two he’d just defeated—these new shadows were at the three-fruit boundary, the top of the early C-Grade.
That had also been Don Cranxiao’s level. Of course, Cranxiao had been a genius—these shadows were nothing.
Last time he was here, Jack had forfeited as these shadows appeared. This time, he hadn’t even used his Life Drop yet.
With a grin, he did. Life flooded his body. His bones stretched and his body expanded, pulsing with endless strength. Two new arms grew below his armpits. Feeling the familiar rush of power, Jack faintly realized that it felt slightly more subdued than usual, as if he could control it better. He didn’t have time to consider that now, but he filed it away for later.
The shadows charged him. He charged right back, his laughter echoing across the globe walls.
One shadow held a large shield, projecting a sturdy domain that enveloped all three of them. The second shadow wore a triangular hat—as it pointed at him, explosions resounded, and space cracked. Gravity started dancing, while snow and fire appeared on either side of him. His body struggled to endure both extreme temperatures at once.
At the same time, the darkness grew deeper. Monsters crawled out, malformed and twisted. Some resembled humans missing an assortment of limbs, while others were beings formed of pure malice. A bloodthirsty air filled the globe—Jack felt his blood go cold and his mind spin into panic as he realized he was surrounded by cold-blooded killers.
However, his gaze sharpened again. It pierced through the monsters to reach a shadow whose bald head was carved with tattoos. Its malevolent air was even more intense than the monsters’—this was the creator of the illusions.
Other outer disciples might have hesitated here, struggling to rid themselves of their fear. However, Jack had experienced life and death multiple times. Back on Hell, it wasn’t just once or twice that he had been surrounded by real cold-blooded killers.
Compared to them, these monsters were laughable.
“Fuck off!” he shouted.
His fists pierced the air, shattering everything. The killers and monsters dissipated, but one of them remained. It was a wolf wrought in shadows, and as its jaws clamped down on his arm, Jack realized this one was real.
It twisted its fangs and tore off an arm. Pain blotted out Jack’s consciousness, but he forced it down. Clenching his other three fists, he hammered the wolf’s head and quickly killed it. He then teleported to avoid the dual assault of fire and snow.
His arm regrew, fueled by the vast life energy inside him, but his breath caught to his throat. Even this initial stage of the globe contained tricks. That bald shadow wasn’t just a Will cultivator, but also a summoner—if not for his extraordinary regeneration, he would have lost right there and then.
He steeled his mind, taking care not to underestimate the shadows again.
More monsters crawled out of the darkness. Jack unleashed his Dao, burning them through sheer power. All of them disappeared—with the wolf gone, the shadow couldn’t summon another real monster. Or, at least, so it pretended.
One wizard manipulating the elements, one summoner affecting Jack’s mind, and a warrior protecting those two. These three shadows really formed a good battle squad.
But they were too weak.
Jack rushed into them. His domain erupted purple, vanquishing the shadows. Fire roared at him, but he pushed right through. His fist pulled back. It shot out. A meteor crashed into the warrior’s shield and dented it, then another broke cleanly through.
As the warrior dispersed in motes of light, the other two shadows followed quickly after.
New shadows appeared.
Jack had expected a slightly increased number of stronger shadows, maybe four or five. Instead, nine formed, each at the two-fruit boundary. Their individual power was weaker than the shadows he’d just defeated, though their combined might was naturally greater.
He didn’t have time to be surprised. The moment these shadows appeared, they erupted into battle. Attacks besieged him on all sides. Jack could no longer save energy. His domain operated at full force, barely enduring the suppression of nine others. Weapons and magic broke against his fists, but there were always more. The attacks came without pause.
Jack was forced to teleport. He punched through space, appearing behind a wizard shadow and shattering its spine. Yet, as he teleported away, a new shadow formed in its place.
What!?
More attacks rained on him. In the globe’s restricted space, he barely had room to dodge. He couldn’t use his superior strength to bully the shadows. He was forced into a run, only occasionally striking out and killing an enemy.
Yet, no matter how many he killed, new ones formed in their place. The new ones were also stronger. As he killed more of them, their strength climbed from the two-fruit to the three-fruit boundary, until a shadow appeared whose power eclipsed all others.
A mid C-Grade. About as strong as the planetary overseer had been.
Jack finally realized where the Ceaseless Murder Globe got its name. The first three battles were only a warm-up; after that, shadows spawned endlessly, gradually becoming stronger and stronger. It really was ceaseless murder—if he stopped moving for even a fraction of a second, he would lose.
This sort of battle was frantic and absurd. Even keeping track of what was happening was difficult. It pushed one to the very limits of their ability, forcing them to erupt with their full potential or die trying. It was a unique situation that could push one beyond the brink.
Jack loved it.
He had never felt so alive. His Dao flowed freely, his body rapidly regenerated, his fists kept breaking bodies. The battle filled his mind, became all he knew and could think about. There were no erroneous thoughts, no considerations, no fear. Only stone-cold killing.
It was difficult to describe the ecstasy that flooded Jack’s soul. He was simultaneously a God and an ant. He was everything and nothing—the ultimate warrior.
Shadows kept dying. A second mid C-Grade appeared, then a third. Against those mighty shadows, Jack could only avoid them to fight others—though he was stronger, defeating them would need enough time for the rest to dogpile on him.
His margins of error were thinning. Even with his newly tempered body, he was nearing his limit. The only reason he still persisted was the regeneration offered by the four-armed battle form, which repaired his constantly injured body. Otherwise, he would have lost long ago.
Finally, an even stronger shadow appeared. This one was at the five-fruit boundary, its strength approaching the late Don Cranxiao’s. With this addition, the battle sped up. Finally, Jack was cornered. Attacks rained down on him endlessly, while the five-fruit shadow locked space to prevent him from escaping. He lasted for only two seconds before he was overwhelmed, his domain was broken, and his body suffered countless blows.
A spear teleported before his throat and came to a stop, its tip only an inch away from ending his life.
At that moment, all shadows froze. They retrieved their weapons and bowed at him, then slowly disappeared.
Jack had finally lost. He sucked in a breath of cold air, exhausted. After fighting intensely for what felt like hours—but was probably just a few minutes—his brain struggled to return to normal.
The silence was deafening. The stillness, dizzying.
Finally, Jack regained his bearings. His robes were torn and his hair disheveled. As the Life Drop’s energy receded, it left behind a body of shallow wounds, the kind he couldn’t spare the energy to regenerate.
“I look like shit,” he muttered, his voice echoing. “Heh.”
Slowly, he walked to the globe’s exit. The door rose by itself, revealing the void outside and the excited stares of over a hundred talented C-Grade cultivators. Even the Envoy stared at him with curiosity.
As they saw his strained form, those gazes turned into incredulity.
Generally speaking, most cultivators would lose or give up before they reached the stage of looking like that. After all, nobody wanted to be ridiculed by others.
But Jack didn’t care. As he walked out of the globe, with his tattered robes barely covering his body, he carried the air of a gladiator. His fighting spirit still hadn’t died down completely—the weakest of those present unconsciously took a step back, then caught themselves.
Were they really afraid of a D-Grade?
Everyone was filled with rising wonder. They turned their gazes to the ranking obelisk, which would reveal Jack’s result. Brock looked on with pride—Dorman with excitement, and the ponytail girl with curiosity. The rest of the crowd shared a mix of those feelings.
While the globe’s magic formation assessed Jack’s performance, the crowd erupted into discussions yet again.
“I think he’ll rank at 780,” said a man.
“I say 750.”
“730.”
“720!” said Osmu Sosmu, not really believing it but wanting to create excitement. A few others berated him good-heartedly. After all, even some mid C-Grades couldn’t pass the 750 mark.
Jack looked on silently.
Finally, the obelisk rumbled. Jack’s name disappeared from its previous place of 950, and a large row of names was wiped away as they all moved a rank down. People looked up to find the new position of Jack’s name.
And up. And up.
Finally, when the first person spotted the name, he gasped. Others shared his reaction, while a few stared at Jack like he was pranking them.
Yet, the truth was clear for all to see. His name and ranking were perfectly visible on the ranking obelisk.
Rank 675… Jack Rust!
Comments
Greg Lambert
Great stuff. Fun chapter.
Knight Rhoden
Rank 675 as a D-Grade? Let's stop for a moment and recall that the Black Hole Church is already made up of geniuses. And all of the disciples are C-Grade. Jack beat the ranking of at least 300 other genius C-Grades, while a D-Grade himself. At this point I genuinely wonder if an Elder will come down to have a look at the commotion cos' I doubt this has ever been done before.
