Alex stood where the others had left him, unsure of what to do next.
Out in the distance, gunfire rattled through the air. Explosions followed, shaking the ground with every thundering echo. The screams came next—distant but sharp.
'Argh…' Alex let out a long, cold breath. Frustration gnawed at him.
"It really sucks to be the weakest in the team, doesn't it," he muttered under his breath.
Still, Tamsin had been right. The area they'd cleared was quiet now. Every camera had been destroyed, every soldier driven off. With the main fight raging far ahead, no one in the base even realized Alex was still around.
That didn't mean he could relax.
'It's still best if I find somewhere safe instead of standing out in the open,' Alex thought.
He scanned around and found one of the makeshift buildings nearby. The structure looked like it had been thrown together in a rush—metal sheets for walls, crates stacked for cover. Inside, rows of weapons were lined up along the wall, but there wasn't a single person in sight.
Alex walked in quietly, stepped over some scattered shells, and picked a corner. He sat down, crossing his legs, his back straight against the cold wall.
Slowly, he closed his eyes.
The world outside faded as his consciousness sank inward.
Inside his sea of consciousness, Alex could see his qi core pulsing faintly in the dark. Its glow was weak, flickering like a fading ember. The flow of energy trickled slowly, not yet refilled.
But what Alex didn't know—what no one had told him—was that even this slow recovery speed was remarkable. For a paragon less than a year into cultivation, it was the kind of talent others would kill to have.
The reason Alex felt like his main core was slow was simple—he was comparing it to his artificial core. And that one was refilling at a ridiculous pace.
Inside his sea of consciousness, Alex's gaze shifted toward his bloodline core. It floated beside the others, faintly glowing.
A thin crack of light ran across it diagonally like a frozen bolt of lightning. The energy inside it hummed softly, wild and restrained at the same time.
'Perhaps if they knew I had a bloodline power, they might have let me go with them,' Alex thought, the idea slipping through his mind.
He shook his head slightly.
'I don't know why, but something tells me I should keep it hidden. At least until I figure out what my bloodline power really is.'
His attention returned to the qi core.
'The artificial qi bank has already passed halfway,' he noted.
A thought formed quickly after.
'If I use the qi absorption technique, I can speed it up even more.'
Every paragon warrior—or mage—could choose to learn a qi absorbing technique. It was one of the basics, a way to draw qi faster from the air and pull it into their cores.
Even without it, the body naturally restored qi on its own, like how a tired person recovered stamina by simply sitting down and breathing.
But Alex's recovery rate was already abnormal. His qi bank, even without a technique, was filling up fast enough to make a seasoned fighter jealous.
Still, he wasn't satisfied.
He crossed his legs tighter, straightened his posture, and began the technique. His breaths deepened.
Each inhale pulled in invisible energy; each exhale pushed out the excess.
The air around him shifted, faint particles of qi flowing toward him like mist being drawn to a flame.
Within seconds, the artificial qi core pulsed bright and steady—full once again.
'Now, let's transfer that to the main core,' Alex thought.
At his command, the qi stored in his artificial core surged forward like a stream bursting through a dam.
It flowed smoothly, merging with his main qi core and filling the empty spaces within.
A faint hum echoed inside his sea of consciousness as the two cores balanced their energies.
But Alex didn't stop there. He continued absorbing qi from the air, pulling it through every pore, every breath, feeding both his cores in rhythm.
Then, he triggered another command.
[Overlap]
Blue light flickered across his body as the system registered the activation.
The Overlap technique was one of those skills Alex rarely touched — not because it was weak, but because it was hard to control.
It allowed the user to perform multiple internal processes at once.
Most paragons used it to balance their qi and mana, a talent only a few could master without burning themselves out.
Right now though, Alex had something else in mind.
Using Overlap, he split his focus — one part of his mind continued absorbing qi into the artificial core, while the other directed energy through his body, restoring the small damages from the recent blasts.
'Now, let me focus on healing this body,' Alex thought, eyes still closed.
His breathing deepened. Threads of qi flowed to his muscles, patching up torn fibers, calming the ache under his ribs. The process was slow, but steady.
Thankfully, none of his bones were broken. Most of what he felt was the aftershock — pain radiating through his nerves, bruises from impact, nothing life-threatening.
"My peace energy should have been able to suppress this kind of pain easily," Alex muttered, voice low and strained. "But most of it's already being used to maintain the artificial qi core."
He let out a shaky breath.
"Maybe the only reason I'm still conscious is because what little peace energy I have left is holding the pain back," he added with a faint, humorless smile.
From the books Alex had read—the ones given to him by the Fact Dragon Roar Faction—most spoke of what peace energy could do: an energy so mysterious it could bend reality itself, defying the laws of science, technology, and even magic.
He kept that thought in the back of his mind as he focused his qi to accelerate his healing.
It wasn't as instant as when Saka healed him with magic, but it was still far faster than any natural human recovery. With qi constantly flowing into his body, wounds sealed and bones knit together. In no time, he would be battle-ready again—fit to rejoin the war.
---
Meanwhile, Tamsin, Gwen, and Merrick were holding the final defensive line at the base. Chaos reigned. The enemy had unleashed their full might.
Multiple Tankers rolled through the field, their rotating turrets firing relentlessly at the trio. Gunfire roared from every direction. Helicopters thundered overhead, raining down ballistic hellfire.
But deep down, they all knew—it wasn't over yet. They still hadn't faced a Paragon warrior.
Gwen's whip lashed out, coiling around a nearby chopper. With a fierce yell, she channeled her qi down to her legs. Energy exploded beneath her boots as she yanked, dragging the helicopter out of the sky and slamming it down with a fiery crash.
The chopper came crashing down.
BOOM!
With a deafening explosion, fire bloomed across the battlefield. Gwen didn't waste a second—she was already aiming for another one.
"Hey…" she said, her voice echoing through the comms, "I can't help but think—what if we're attacking the wrong people?"
Though miles apart in position, the team was linked through the system.
"The report said the target's here," Merrick replied, calm but sharp. "Maybe they're just waiting for us to get tired… before they swoop in."
Merrick crouched on a half-demolished platform, his sniper rifle gleaming under the light of burning wreckage. He exhaled slowly, squeezing off round after round, picking off soldiers below.
Then—one of the Tankers locked onto him.
With lightning reflexes, Merrick sensed the danger. He pushed off the crumbling ledge, spinning midair just as—
BOOM!
The Tanker's blast obliterated the platform beneath him. Shards of metal and dust shot into the air.
But mid-flight, Merrick already had his sights lined. He fired.
His bullet—no ordinary round—gleamed faintly as it tore through the smoke.
Merrick's weapons, forged from Paragon beast remains and crystal, were designed for precision and lethality. His sniper had a special feature—Seeking Effect. Once fired, his rounds locked onto their targets, weaving through the air like guided spirits. No matter how fast they ran, no matter how hard they tried to dodge—there was no escape.
The sniper bullet was meant to be just another qi-infused round—but this one hit like a qi cannon.
Upon contact with the Tanker, the massive metal beast was torn apart, split open like paper before fire.
Meanwhile, while Gwen and Merrick were busy holding their lines, Tamsin was in his own storm.
His twin swords danced—each swing slicing through iron like silk. Sparks rained as he darted between vehicles, cutting through barrels, armor, and steel plating.
At one Tanker firing at Gwen, Tamsin flashed forward. In a single movement, he slashed through the Tanker's iron pipe, crippling it. He didn't stop there—he moved like a whirlwind, dismantling one armored vehicle after another, leaving trails of molten scars in his wake.
"If they think this will tire us out," Tamsin said, voice calm amidst the chaos, "then they're in for a huge surprise."
Merrick, on the other hand, was busy sniping soldiers, his rifle humming with qi discharge. But even as he took aim, something felt off.
His instincts screamed. He looked up.
Several massive rocks were plummeting toward him.
Without hesitation, Merrick raised his rifle—one, two, three shots. Each bullet hit dead-on, detonating the boulders midair. The explosion shattered the air, turning the falling rocks into dust and debris.
Tiny fragments rained down, but they barely grazed him. Merrick's gaze was fixed higher—on the cliff above.
There, a silhouette stood. Still. Watching.
---
Meanwhile, Gwen was cutting through waves of soldiers, her whip slicing through armor and bone alike. But mid-swing—
SNAP!
Her whip stopped midair, caught by a hand.
It didn't move. Didn't even tremble.
"I think that's enough killing for one day," a calm voice said.
At Tamsin's side, while he was darting from place to place, slicing down the enemy like a crimson storm, a sudden yellow, crescent-shaped slash came tearing through the air toward him.
The moment it struck his qi barrier—BOOM!
The barrier shattered like glass. The attack didn't stop there; it smashed straight into Tamsin, sending him flying backward.
Midair, he twisted his body and landed hard, boots grinding across the dirt as sparks flew from the friction.
'There's no way an attack like that came from someone my level… or below,' he thought, eyes narrowing at the blood staining his chest.
That single strike had broken his barrier, bypassed his battle suit, and still had enough force to injure his Stage 5 Paragon body.
When he looked up, he finally saw who had attacked.
A middle-aged man stood ahead, wearing a black robe that fluttered gently despite the chaos around them. His black hair, streaked with white, was tied neatly into a knot.
Just one look, and Tamsin's system confirmed it—
[Stage 7 Paragon Warrior]
"Stage 7 Paragon warrior?" Tamsin muttered, tightening his grip on his swords. "That wasn't in the report."