Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Oin may be ruthless, or he may be too ambitious.

But Clement had seen far more chaotic times.

In his youth, he fought pirates in Sihanoukville and witnessed firsthand how a small noble territory was torn to pieces by gangs, cults, and famine due to the loss of order.

The noble lords were certainly filthy, but without the noble army to keep them in check, even more children would have died in those poor alleys.

He believed that the knife handle must be in the hands of a few.

Even if the person holding the knife has blood all over their hands.

Xilun is different.

He refused to bow his head, refused to submit, and refused to become anyone's weapon.

If such a person possesses power, he will tear apart the old order and bring forth a new fire that no one can control.

Clement could not allow it.

"team leader!"

The second-in-command led four guards into the reservoir, their short axes, muskets, and grappling hooks all aimed at Xilun.

Clement raised his hand, signaling them to disperse.

Xilun remained standing by the stone platform.

A crossbow bolt pierced his shoulder, and a silver chain dangled onto the ice. Blood trickled down his sleeves, only to be quickly frozen into reddish-black streaks.

His eyes were sometimes clear-headed, sometimes deep and unfathomable.

The internal progression continues.

The potion was like a storm, pushing the second-tier body toward the threshold of becoming a mutant.

The so-called distortion is not about becoming a monster.

Instead, it allows the body to accept a different set of rules.

The rules of Xilun are water, cold, and a will that remains clear-headed even in the deep sea and under the moonlight.

He heard the water boiling.

It's not water from the reservoir.

It is the water in the blood, the water in the lungs, the moisture flowing between every inch of flesh and blood.

The boiling water was suppressed by the cold, and countless white mists rose up.

The white mist was drawn by the lunar phase silver marrow, transforming into tiny silver threads that stitched together his tattered body, which had been chased for nearly a month.

The old wound is shrinking.

The severed muscles re-engage.

A faint popping sound came from deep within the bones.

Faint black-blue lines appeared on his skin, like wet marks left on rocks after the tide recedes.

The deputy's eyelids twitched violently when he saw this.

"shot!"

Three gunshots rang out simultaneously.

The lead bullet tore through the cold mist and struck Xilun in the chest and abdomen.

Xilun looked up.

The ice around the reservoir suddenly cracked, and several thin curtains of water bounced up from the cracks.

Remnants of the water-sealing net are still suppressing the water flow.

The water curtain is very thin.

It was so thin that it could barely stop a lead bullet.

But they froze the moment they rose, turning into three transparent ice mirrors.

The lead bullet struck the ice mirror, causing its speed to drop sharply.

The first bullet still pierced through, striking Xilun in the chest and embedding itself in his flesh.

The second one missed by half an inch, grazing past my side.

The third one was caught in the ice mirror, hovering in mid-air, spinning and emitting hot smoke.

Xilun reached out and flicked his fingertips lightly.

The lead bullet flew back.

Snapped!

One of the guards had his forehead split open and fell backward.

The reservoir was quiet for a moment.

Clement was not shocked.

He took advantage of the quiet moment to get to Xiren.

The rapier was raised.

This time, the sword was no longer aimed at a vital spot, but rather at the crossbow bolt lodged in Xilun's shoulder.

The cyan sword light severed the silver chains and also tore open the wound on Xilun's shoulder, causing the chill to become temporarily disordered.

Clement pressed his left hand against the end of the sword hilt, his feet sinking into the ice, his whole body as steady as a nail.

You will not succeed.

His voice was deep.

"A person like you will only drag those around you into a bigger vortex."

Xilun finally saw him for who he truly was.

You're wrong.

Xilun's voice was hoarse, and every word he uttered was tinged with frost.

"I didn't drag them into the vortex."

He raised his gun, the tip pressed against the spine of the sword.

"The whirlpool has arrived."

Boom!

A muffled sound suddenly came from the depths of the reservoir.

The water flow, which was blocked by the remnants of the water-sealing net, began to vibrate.

It wasn't the water outside that was responding to him.

Instead, the newly generated power within Xilun began to influence the outside world.

A dark blue mist spread from beneath his feet, the ice cracked, and scalding white steam billowed from the cracks.

Water boils under ice.

Clement's expression changed drastically.

He finally realized that his promotion had entered its most dangerous and uninterrupted phase.

Xilun's body is being reborn.

And this underground reservoir is about to become his sea.

The water tank boiled.

Beneath the ice, the dark pool water churned and crashed, as if countless unseen giants were tumbling and turning underwater.

White vapor gushed out from the crack, and upon encountering the chill around Xilun, it quickly condensed into fine, snow-like ice crystals.

Heat and cold clashed in the narrow underground space.

Water seeped from the stone walls, the railway tracks trembled, and the roar of water flowing back into the main canal came from afar.

The fragments of the water-sealing net emitted a dull hum.

Those extraordinary metals should have suppressed the water's force, but at this moment, they seemed to be dragged between two completely opposite forces, being washed by boiling water on one side and corroded by frost on the other, with the dark patterns on their surfaces constantly flickering.

The deputy yelled, "Back to the entrance! Don't go near the water!"

However, his warning came too late.

As soon as a guard stepped onto the broken ice, the ice beneath his feet suddenly melted, and scalding hot water enveloped his calves.

The man screamed and tried to pull away, but the boiling water suddenly froze, sealing his boots and flesh in the ice.

Before he could even swing his knife to cut through the ice, a line of water emerged from beneath the ice.

The waterline is not thick.

Like a thin, transparent rope.

It wrapped around the guard's neck and gently tightened.

The screams abruptly stopped.

Clement unleashed a flash of sword light.

The water line was cut.

But the guard had already collapsed, with only a very thin red line on his neck.

"Everyone retreat!"

Clement finally gave the order.

He was not afraid.

Instead, they knew that ordinary guards staying here would only become sacrifices in the process of Xilun's ascension.

The deputy immediately dragged the remaining crossbowmen back towards the main canal.

Only Clement and Siron remained in the reservoir.

Xilun stood between ice and mist, his figure appearing and disappearing.

His breathing became slower and slower.

With each exhale, a faint layer of frost would appear around him; with each inhale, boiling steam would be drawn into his lungs, turning into an even deeper chill.

The changes inside my body have reached an unbearable level.

His bones were as if they were being shattered inch by inch by a heavy hammer, and then recast by cold water.

The blood was sometimes cold and sometimes hot, sometimes like an icy river and sometimes like a rolling tide.

The heartbeat was completely out of control, but it didn't break down.

The wildness of the water beast's heart was drawn deep into the slumbering man's spine, while the lunar silver marrow wove a cool silver ring around the edge of his soul, preventing him from being swallowed up by the chaotic scenes.

He then saw the interior.

At the edge of the black ice field, the deep sea rises.

The silver moon sank into the sea, shattering into countless rays of cold light.

The cold light illuminated the surface of the sea, but beneath it lay neither fish nor monsters, but rather every trace of blood he had left over the past month.

The reefs of Baiya Town.

The icy sea beneath the sealed-off water network.

The pool in the Quarry Valley.

Sewage from a dry well in an abandoned village.

A blood-stained maze in a lime kiln.

There were also grey-feathered seagulls that Rena sent.

All suffering flows into this sea like a river.

He stood in the middle of the sea, his wounds opening up one by one, only to freeze again.

In the distance, there is a door.

The sound of tides came from behind the door.

Another version of myself was standing in front of the door.

The man was covered in black and blue scales, and his eyes were devoid of emotion, like a humanoid weapon sculpted from the cold sea.

Xilun looked at him.

The other person was also looking at Xilun.

He didn't speak.

But Celen understood what that meant.

Aberrant individuals.

The third stage is not simply about becoming stronger, but about acknowledging that the body has deviated from its original human form.

If willpower cannot suppress the distortion, power will take over flesh and blood, and flesh and blood will devour people.

He can't become like that.

Not at least not now.

Rhodes was still waiting for him to return to the mansion.

After Lena escapes with her belongings, she will definitely try to contact the Brotherhood.

Kusso's group of rude gunmen have probably been cursing in the North District for days.

If Teacher Lund can't find him, he might take his spear and fight his way to White Cliff Town.

And there's Oin.

There's also the Black Death cult.

And then there are the enemies still lurking in the fog.

He cannot surrender himself to the effects of a drug.

He had to hold the newborn body in his own hands.

In reality, Xilun suddenly bit the tip of his tongue.

The taste of blood welled up in my throat.

In that instant, his eyes cleared again.

Inside, a dark blue figure raises his hand, seemingly wanting to push open the door.

Xilun reached out first and pressed down on his wrist.

"My body."

He said in a low voice.

"I'm in charge."

boom!

The interior sea suddenly explodes.

The silver moonlight bursts into the sky, like thousands of rays of light piercing the Black Sea.

In the underground reservoir, all the mist was illuminated simultaneously.

That wasn't the glow of the sun.

It was a cold light, a mixture of silver, dark blue, and crimson, that spread along the ice, stone walls, water vapor, and bloodstains.

Deep within the dimly lit abandoned mine, it was as if a sudden dawn had arrived, illuminating every piece of broken stone with a moist sheen.

Clement stood in the light, his fingers gripping his sword slightly.

He had seen many third-order advancements.

Noble families have secret chambers, apothecaries, stable spells, and guards at their gates. Most people experience pain and hardship during their advancement, sometimes even needing to be chained to prevent mutations that could harm others.

But West London is different.

He advanced in a desperate situation where he was being hunted down, seriously injured, lacking medicine, and without any ritual protection.

He did not kneel down.

There was no roaring.

They did not pray to any deity.

He simply stood there, like someone opening a tattered umbrella in a storm, then gradually pressing the entire storm back into their palm.

Clement suddenly felt a strange sense of respect.

It's very light.

But it truly exists.

If this person is willing to serve the Tusol family, given time, he might become a blade even sharper than Gran.

If this person were born into a noble family, they might be nurtured with all available resources to become the future guardian of the family.

Unfortunately, there is no such thing.

Xilun is destined not to kneel.

And Clement was destined not to let him leave.

"You're almost done."

Clement slowly raised his sword, a blue light flowing from its blade. "So this is all I have left."

His right hand was still frostbitten and the chill left by Siron lingered deep in his wrist.

Every time he wielded the sword with all his might, the chill would pierce his bones like a nail.

But he didn't stop.

He held the rapier horizontally in front of his brow, and ran two fingers of his left hand across the spine of the sword. Blood seeped from his fingertips and was absorbed by the blade.

The pale blue light gradually deepened.

The sword intent was compressed into an extremely thin line.

The glow of the sunset in the entire reservoir seemed to be sliced ​​apart by that single, sharp line of light.

Xilun looked at him.

He's just one step away from finishing.

The body reconstruction is mostly complete, the aberrant traits are taking shape, and the spiritual core is being suppressed by the lunar silver marrow.

But the door was not yet fully opened, and the power of the third tier lingered within his body, like a tide crashing against a dam.

Clement's timing was impeccable.

Any earlier, and it wouldn't have killed him.

If it's any later, they might not be able to kill him.

Right now.

"Silon".

Clement's voice was deep.

"If there is an afterlife, don't stand against the order."

Xilun gripped the golden spear.

The surface of the gun barrel was covered with white frost, which shimmered with a dark gold under the glow of the sunset.

"If the order you're talking about is paving the way with other people's lives."

He exhaled a puff of frosty mist. "Then I'll stay here."

Clement stopped talking.

The next instant, he vanished from the spot.

It's not that it's so fast you can't see it.

Instead, the sword line arrived first, and then the body appeared.

The cold mist above the reservoir was split in two.

The ice cracked, boiling water flowed out, and even the glow around Xilun was cleaved in a dark slit.

The name of the sword is unknown.

But the sword intent was very clear.

Abandon change, abandon defense, abandon room for maneuver.

Seeking only a sliver of hope, they severed all chance of survival.

Xilun raised his gun.

But his body suddenly stiffened.

The promotion backfired at this moment.

The new life force deep within the flesh and blood clashed with the old meridians in a final act, and the old wound on the left rib suddenly burst open, spurting out black and red blood.

The crossbow wound on his right shoulder was also stretched open by the medicine, and the bones made a sickeningly loud, dislocating sound.

The golden spear was a moment too slow.

That instant was enough for Clement to kill him.

A cyan sword line pierced the rosy light.

Only three inches away from Xilun's brow.

At the entrance to the main canal, the deputy and the remaining guards held their breath.

They witnessed victory.

Seeing that the dark figure, who had been chased for nearly a month but still refused to fall, was finally about to be nailed to death by the captain's sword in front of the promotion gate.

However, the fog moved.

It's not the cold mist from the reservoir.

It was a thick fog that was rolling in from deep within the main canal.

The fog carried the smells of the sea, mineral dust, and blood, along with a chilling, almost deathly stillness.

It was as if it had been lying in ambush, waiting only for the moment the sword fell before suddenly plunging into the battlefield.

In the mist, a hand was raised.

Xilun's hand.

He didn't have time to fully raise his gun, but he raised his left hand instead.

That hand was placed in front of his brow.

A palm of flesh and blood blocked a sword strike from a third-tier opponent.

The tip of the sword pierced his palm.

It should be consistent throughout.

But the next moment, Clement's expression changed.

The sword tip stopped.

It's not that it's stuck by a bone.

Instead, it was frozen.

Starting from the tip of the sword, a layer of dark blue frost spread at a visible speed.

The cyan sword line seemed to be pressed into the deep sea, its sharpness dimming inch by inch, the crimson, cyan light and frost intertwined, emitting a sharp cracking sound.

Xilun raised his eyes.

The mist churned behind him.

In those eyes, the silvery-white light finally merged into the deep black-blue, forming a stable and cold halo.

The door in the interior scene is open.

Seawater surged into the ice field.

The silver moon sank into my heart.

The body is reborn.

Xilun clasped his five fingers together.

Crack.

The first crack appeared on the tip of Clement's rapier.

"Your sword strike."

Xilun's voice was soft, yet it pierced clearly through the fog.

"I blocked it."

Clement drew his sword.

The sword did not move.

The blood from Xilun's palm flowed down the sword's edge, but condensed into tiny ice crystals halfway down.

Those icicles were not simply attached to the surface of the sword, but were like countless tiny teeth, biting into the depths of the blue-green blade.

When the Profound Yin Breathing Technique came into his hands, it finally revealed its true ferocity.

In the past, cold breath could freeze blood, water, and wounds.

Now, it can even freeze attacks.

Clement acted decisively, slamming his left hand onto the hilt of his sword.

The sword trembled.

The third-tier sharpness exploded from within, forcefully shattering a section of frost. He used the recoil to retreat half a step, pulling the sword tip from Xilun's palm, bringing with it a string of frozen blood beads.

But he was unable to completely retreat.

The golden spear of Xilun has arrived.

There is no Red Star.

There are no complicated gun routes.

It was just a simple stab.

Clement felt as if he were facing not a gun, but a cold vein of water rising from the depths of the Black Sea.

The spear tip pierced the fog, aiming straight for the throat.

Clement parried with his sword.

clang!