Home / Eastern / Rebirth of the Battle God / Chapter 2: The Holy Law Awakens – Three Punches to Shatter the Heavens
Chapter 2: The Holy Law Awakens – Three Punches to Shatter the Heavens
last update2025-08-31 00:18:28

The heat wasn’t just hot—it was alive.

It pressed against Darian like a beast of fire, crawling under his skin, gnawing at his veins. The little hut around him felt like it was shrinking, the wooden walls trembling with every shallow breath he took. The air itself seemed molten, and even the faintest breeze that sneaked through the cracks burned like coals.

He sat cross-legged on the cracked wooden bench, muscles taut as coiled springs, every pore aflame. Sweat ran down his temples, only to vanish before it could fall. His once-pale skin glowed crimson, as though lit from within.

He clenched his jaw until pain shot down his neck. His body screamed for release, yet his spirit clung to stillness.

From deep inside his chest, a low, terrifying rumble rose—ancient and relentless. It was rivers breaking dams, mountains cracking under pressure, the world itself groaning awake. Darian felt his flesh tear from the inside, every nerve stretched to the brink. His soul burned as if scraped by an invisible blade.

And yet, he endured.

Ten years of endurance.

Ten years of silence.

Ten years of burying every spark of ambition beneath humiliation, beneath exile, beneath loss.

Pain was nothing compared to that. No, he would not break now. Not after coming this far.

The rumbling grew louder. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Muscles twisted and bulged beneath his skin, ropes of tension. Blood filled his mouth, metallic and hot—but he swallowed it anyway.

Hold on.

The words echoed in his mind like a sacred chant. Hold on.

Then, suddenly, everything shifted.

A coolness swept through him like a breeze after a storm. His mind cleared. Pain dulled to background noise. And for the first time, he saw.

Behind closed eyes, a vision unfolded. His body—veins, organs, heart—lay bare, radiant, alive. Energy flowed through him like molten rivers of light, coursing along channels he had only dreamed of mastering.

And there—just below his navel—glimmered a tiny pearl of gold. Small, yet pulsing with infinite power. The Holy Law Origin. Ten years of sacrifice and torment condensed into this singular, radiant point.

Darian’s breath hitched. Awe and relief washed over him in equal measure. The golden light stirred within, then flared.

Energy tore through his meridians, wild and unrestrained, burning yet healing. Molten metal seemed to flow in his veins, searing weakness, mending fracture. His bones hummed. Every fiber of his being resonated with a new, divine rhythm.

This. This was what he had endured everything for.

The golden-red energy surged, merging with his blood and flesh, until he throbbed with rebirth. Pain shifted into euphoria. The world went white, then black. When his vision returned, he lay on the bench, drenched as if dragged from a river.

And yet, he smiled.

A faint voice drifted through the silence, warm and distant.

“Riven… long time no see.”

The name struck a chord deep within him, echoing in his soul.

Darian closed his eyes. “You’re awake.”

A soft, almost playful chuckle followed.

“Not fully. Some pieces are still missing. But some of my soul power has returned. If you hadn’t awakened the Sun, Moon, and Stars Seal ten years ago… I’d be gone forever.”

A memory flickered—the blood moon, the night he gave up everything to awaken the seal.

He reached into his robe and pulled out a simple envelope, plain but heavy with meaning. Beside it rested the Blood Dragon Jade, faintly pulsing, the last link to Halron—the man who had raised him until age four, before disappearing without a trace.

For ten years, Darian had guarded both like treasures, even as life fell to ruin around him. They were the only remnants of a man who once called him son.

Riven’s voice softened. “Was it worth it?”

Darian’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Every second.”

He recounted his years in silence, the Holy Law sealed within, and the Sun Restriction he had uncovered. He spoke of Halron, of promises carved into his heart.

Riven hummed thoughtfully. “You’ve done well. To master even a fragment of the Holy Law… few could survive this path. Silence was never weakness. It was your weapon.”

Darian nodded. Eyes sharp. He circulated his Aetherial Force, and the Holy Law Origin blazed like a sun inside him. The room shivered. Light spilled from his pores. Energy condensed in his core, thick, pure, unyielding.

He felt power unlike anything before, stronger, brighter, almost divine.

“That’s Holy Dao Battle Qi,” Riven whispered. “Ten times stronger. Purer. Sharper. You can cross realms in combat now. You’re no longer bound by who you were.”

Darian’s gaze hardened. Faces of the past—Halron, Lucian, Aeris—flashed before him. He would prove himself. He would honor the vanished man, honor his promise.

Outside, dawn spilled across the courtyard, golden on cracked stones.

Laughter cut through the morning.

Kaelen Valeblue, scarred cheek, cocky grin, surrounded by young elites, laughed loudly and cruelly.

“Three punches to blow me away?” he sneered. “Still the same trash, Darian? Ten years of silence, and you come back babbling?”

Aeris watched nearby, her beauty icy, her disdain sharper than ever. Once betrothed to Darian, she had discarded him the instant Lucian returned. Now she wanted to see him fall again.

Darian stepped into sunlight, black robe brushing dust. Calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that made people uneasy.

He stopped, met Kaelen’s gaze.

“Done laughing?” His voice was quiet, polite even. “Move. Good dogs shouldn’t block the road this early. Brings bad luck.”

Laughter faltered. Uneasy glances passed between the young elites.

Kaelen smirked. “You dare call me a dog?”

Darian folded his hands behind his back. The wind lifted his robe. For a heartbeat, he looked like a statue carved from stillness itself.

“Yesterday, I held back. Today, I won’t.”

Kaelen roared, aura exploding outward. The Duskwrath Tiger Soldier Fist, Ironbody Tier technique, sprang to life—a spectral tiger howling, stomping the ground. Everyone stepped back. Darian was supposed to be crippled, a Fifth Stage weakling. What could he do?

Darian didn’t flinch. Eyes calm, studying the tiger like a piece of art. Then, lightning-fast, his right fist shot out.

The world shattered.

A thunderous bang split the air. Dust spiraled. Kaelen staggered, boots skidding against the courtyard’s edge. His phantom tiger flickered and broke apart.

Silence. Heavy, suffocating silence.

“You… forced him back?” someone whispered.

Kaelen’s face darkened. “You’re not Fifth Stage. You’re Sixth!”

Murmurs swept through the crowd. From crippled to Tendon Refinement Great Completion, and he had done it quietly.

Kaelen’s tiger reformed, energy claws slashing.

Darian tilted his head, amused. “Tiger Soldier Fist? I know that one too.”

Golden light burst from his palm. His Holy Dao Battle Qi surged, forming a radiant, divine tiger.

They collided.

Kaelen’s dusky phantom shattered. Backlash sent him flying. Blood sprayed. He hit the ground, gasping.

Darian stepped forward. Calm.

“Second punch—Tiger Shatters the World.”

Before Kaelen could react, the blow struck, and air crushed from his lungs. He rolled, face pale, pride shattered.

Darian’s voice, soft, precise. “Third punch. Let’s see if I can blow you away.”

His fist blurred. The courtyard erupted. Kaelen hurtled into the far wall, blood spraying, defeated utterly.

Silence reigned.

Those who had mocked him were frozen in disbelief. Aeris’s smile faltered, replaced by raw fear.

Darian brushed dust from his robe, as if clearing away the last ten years of ridicule.

“I said three punches,” he murmured. “So three punches it is.”

He passed Aeris without a glance. She trembled with rage.

“Darian! This means nothing! Lucian will crush you in a month!”

A faint smile. “Lucian, huh?” Dangerous, quiet. “I’m looking forward to it.”

His footsteps faded. The courtyard, once laughing, now held uneasy silence. Dust swirled. Sunlight streaked his robe. Beneath his skin, the Holy Law Origin pulsed—a quiet reminder of unstoppable power.

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