Chen Wuya's palm pressed into the mud, blood and shredded leaves caught between his fingers. He knelt on the ground, breathing heavily, every inhale like gravel scraping through his throat. Bai Zhi on his back was almost completely motionless, her body temperature frighteningly low; only the faint rise and fall of her chest proved she was still alive. Three men in black closed in step by step, their short blades gleaming coldly in the forest's dim light. Their footsteps spread into a triangular formation, sealing off every route of escape.
He did not move.
It was not that he did not want to—it was that he could not. The meridians in his legs felt as if they had been scorched by fire. The remaining heat of the misaligned force rampaged through his body, yet would not gather. He knew that if he could not hold on any longer, they would all die here.
But amid that deathly silence, something suddenly jolted deep within his sea of consciousness.
[Life signs detected on the verge of collapse. Activating ultimate correction protocol—"Misaligned Force Full Release" mode. Duration unknown. Consequences uncontrollable.]
The system's voice was cold and clear, devoid of emotion and offering no choice.
He bared his teeth in a grin, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. To hell with the consequences. As long as he could stand up one more time.
He closed his eyes. Rather than trying to stabilize his true qi, he deliberately released every restraint on his meridians, allowing the remaining misaligned force to reverse-surge through the eight extraordinary meridians. In that instant, it felt as though countless needles had erupted from his marrow, piercing every limb and bone. His body shuddered violently, veins bulging across his forehead as his teeth ground together with a