My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible-Chapter 423: The Final Battle Begins

The masked Vice-Master’s hands completed their seals, spiritual energy gathering around him in a desperate final surge. Blood leaked from beneath his silver mask, evidence of internal damage from their sustained battle, but his stance remained unwavering.

"Severance of the Void King," he said, with a steady voice despite his body’s trembling.

The technique manifested as dozens of spatial cuts forming simultaneously. They didn’t move in straight lines but curved through and creating a three-dimensional cage of destruction that contracted inward with Liam at its center.

Liam’s Dao Array Eyes analyzed the technique even as it closed around him. The complexity was staggering. Each spatial cut was precisely positioned to intersect with the others, creating a web of severing force that left no escape route. Moving in any direction would mean bisection by multiple cuts simultaneously.

Beautiful, Liam thought, with genuine admiration mixing with the adrenaline flooding his system.

He raised the Blade of Tiamat, white flame burning along its edge, and moved toward the cuts.

He spun, the blade becoming a sphere of cutting force and consuming fire. Where the spatial wounds met his weapon, the Essence Refining Flame devoured the spiritual energy anchoring the technique, while the Blade of Tiamat carved through the spatial distortions themselves.

But the Vice-Master had anticipated this. Even as Liam destroyed the first wave of cuts, the man was already there, appearing through a spatial tear directly behind Liam, with his hands glowing with condensed energy.

The strike caught Liam’s already-broken ribs and a white-hot, and overwhelming pain exploded through his chest, and he felt like something puncture his lung. The impact drove him forward, directly into the path of three spatial cuts he hadn’t yet cleared.

Liam twisted desperately, the Blade of Tiamat sweeping up to intercept. He caught two of the cuts, but the third grazed his side, opening a line from hip to ribcage that went deep, with blood immediately pouring from the wound.

He stumbled, his vision blurring, but his right hand never stopped moving. The blade lashed backward in a counter-strike that forced the Vice-Master to retreat, buying Liam precious seconds to recover.

They circled each other, both bleeding, both breathing hard and both pushed far beyond their normal limits.

The Vice-Master formed new seals, his movements slower now, exhaustion making each gesture cost more than it should.

"You’re remarkable," he said, genuine respect in his voice.

"Thank you," Liam said.

They moved simultaneously.

The Vice-Master’s spatial cuts formed a spiral, rotating inward like a drill designed to pierce through any defense.

Liam charged straight into it, the Blade of Tiamat spinning in his hand, the white flame expanding outward to create a sphere of purifying fire that consumed the spatial distortions even as they formed.

He broke through the technique and drove the blade forward.

The Vice-Master tried to dodge, his body moving through a spatial tear to appear several meters away. But Liam’s Dao Array Eyes had seen the technique’s destination point the moment it began. His telekinesis lashed out, catching the Vice-Master mid-transition, yanking him back.

The masked man appeared directly in front of Liam, too close to dodge, his eyes widening behind his silver mask as he realized the trap.

The Blade of Tiamat, still wreathed in white flame, drove through his chest, through his heart and through his back.

The Vice-Master coughed blood, his hands reaching up to grab Liam’s shoulders, to steady himself.

"Worthy..." he managed, blood bubbling from beneath his mask. "Worthy opponent..."

"You too," Liam said softly, and the Essence Refining Flame erupted.

The white fire consumed the Vice-Master completely, refining everything to absolute nothing.

Within seconds, there was no trace that the man had ever existed.

Liam stood there for a moment, the Blade of Tiamat still extended, white flame still burning along its length. Then his legs gave out.

He collapsed to one knee, using the weapon to prop himself up, its point digging into the destroyed courtyard stones to keep him from falling completely.

Blood ran freely from the wound in his side, from his mouth, from dozens of smaller cuts across his body. His broken ribs grated with every breath, each inhalation a struggle.

The assessment was damning. Punctured lung, multiple fractured ribs, deep laceration along his side, his left arm still barely functional, blood loss significant. His exosuit hung in tatters, pieces of it dangling uselessly from his frame.

But even as he catalogued his injuries, he felt them beginning to heal. His enhanced physiology was already at work. He’d recovered noticeably even during his final exchange with the Vice-Master, his body’s regeneration working overtime to keep him functional.

Still, full recovery would take time. Minutes at least, possibly longer given the severity of his current state. And he had no idea if the Pavilion Master would be willing to grant him that time.

Liam forced himself to stand, every muscle protesting, his body screaming that it needed rest. He reached down and tore away the last remnants of his shattered exosuit, the pieces falling to the ground with soft metallic clinks.

The suit had kept him alive through a devastating battle, its protective field absorbing hits that would have been fatal, and also allowing him to dodge techniques that should have killed him.

Lucy had boasted that it could survive jumping into a sun, and after today, Liam believed it. The exosuit had more than earned its place in his arsenal.

His only regret was that he’d never gotten to use the rebound function she’d been so proud of. Perhaps in the next battle, if he survived this one. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Liam smiled to himself despite the pain jolting through his body, feeling his left arm responding better now, able to lift without the shooting agony from before. His ribs still throbbed with each breath, but the sharp edge of the pain had dulled. His body was recovering, slowly but surely.

The smile vanished from his face as an extremely oppressive pressure descended from above.

It hit him like a physical weight, making his knees buckle, forcing him back down despite his attempt to stand. This wasn’t the spiritual pressure of a Nascent Soul cultivator, even at their peak.

Liam raised his head with tremendous effort, his neck muscles straining against the crushing force, and looked up.

A figure hovered in the sky above him, descending slowly. The man appeared to be in his sixties, with a face that might have been handsome once but was now twisted with burning rage. His robes were pristine white with red lotuses embroidered along the hems, the mark of the Pavilion Master. His eyes blazed with fury as he surveyed the destruction below.

"Are you," the man said, his voice cold enough to freeze blood, each word precisely enunciated, "responsible for all this destruction?"

Liam looked up at the hovering figure, blood still dripping from his mouth, his body trembling under the oppressive pressure. "Identify yourself first."

The Pavilion Master’s face contorted with rage. His spiritual pressure exploded outward, cascading down like an avalanche of crushing force.

The weight increased tenfold. Liam’s remaining knee hit the ground despite his efforts to resist. His spine bent under the pressure, forcing his head down, the Blade of Tiamat the only thing keeping him from being flattened completely. He could feel his bones creaking, his organs compressed, his vision darkening at the edges.

This was Void Amalgamation Realm. The next major cultivation boundary beyond Nascent Soul.

Even at peak condition, Liam knew he couldn’t defeat a Void Amalgamation cultivator. The gap was simply too vast. Not impossible to bridge eventually, but not in his current state.

But Liam wasn’t willing to give up.

He gritted his teeth, blood running between them, and released his racial aura. The crushing pressure of his own presence erupted outward, pushing back against the Pavilion Master’s spiritual pressure. It did little to actually reduce the force bearing down on him, as the tier difference was too great but it gave him just enough resistance to move.

Slowly, agonizingly, Liam raised his head. The effort cost him everything, his neck muscles screaming, his vision swimming, but he forced his head up until he could look the Pavilion Master in the eye.

And then, with tremendous effort, with every ounce of defiance he could muster, Liam raised his right hand and extended his middle finger toward the sky.

The Pavilion Master’s face went from cold rage to incandescent fury. Under normal circumstances, he might have maintained his composure under the provocation. But after seeing his organization—his life’s work—reduced to rubble and ashes, after witnessing the corpses and complete absence of his most trusted subordinates, control was beyond him.

"You dare!" the Pavilion Master roared, and without further warning, his hand swept down.

A massive dark palm materialized in the air, easily a hundred meters across. The palm descended like the hand of an angry god and the ground cracking from the pressure wave preceding its arrival.

The speed was tremendous. The palm hurtled toward Liam like a meteor, promising complete annihilation, leaving no time to dodge and no space to escape.

And Liam smiled.

Despite the pain, despite his injuries, despite the certain death approaching at impossible speed, he smiled.

The palm was fast, yes. Devastatingly powerful, absolutely.

But it was readable and that meant it could be countered.

Liam’s hand tightened on the Blade of Tiamat, white flame erupting along its length with renewed intensity.

His Dao Array Eyes analyzed the incoming technique, seeing through its structure, identifying its weaknesses, calculating the optimal counter in the fraction of a second he had available.

His body was broken but he has what he would call near infinite energy, still his chances of survival were minimal.

But he could still fight.

And if he was going to die here, in the ruins of the Devouring Petal Pavilion, surrounded by the ashes of those who’d hurt Master Han, then he’d die standing, blade in hand, smile on his face, taking this bastard with him if possible.

The dark palm descended and Liam raised the Blade of Tiamat to meet it, white flame blazing bright.

And the final battle truly began.