The height of the fountain will not exceed its source

"None of them."

Pluto King's voice was as calm as a pool of stagnant water.

"I only wanted you to know that the strongest weapon you possess isn't your fists, isn't your strength, isn't your speed, but your will. But your will has always been battered by wind and rain, pushed along by others. You haven't found the thing that can anchor your will, so you will never be able to throw the punch I threw."

Situ Xuan's pupils suddenly contracted.

Pluto King raised his right hand, and the fist covered in Black Iron Battle Armor slowly clenched. His movement was very slow, slow enough that Situ Xuan could see the process of each finger bending. Yet it was precisely that slow movement that made Situ Xuan feel as if the entire space were trembling, as though what that fist held was not five fingers, but the entire universe.

"That punch was the answer I spent three years finding."

Pluto King's voice was low and heavy.

"It is not strength, not technique, but a kind of understanding. It is my understanding of this world, of life, of battle. It is what settled inside me after I experienced loss, loneliness, despair, and long, endless years."

He loosened his fist and opened his hand, his palm utterly empty.

Situ Xuan looked at that empty palm and was silent for a long time.

On the Barren Land, wind blew from afar, whipping up fine grains of sand that struck the two of them. Beneath the dark-red sky, the figure wrapped in heavy black armor stood between the starry heavens and the earth like an ancient, unchanging statue.

"What is this?"

Situ Xuan suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse and low.

He was not asking about that empty palm, but about that punch. About the