Against The True Gods-Chapter 137: The Past, Present and Future(II)

But Caine knew he would lose immediately if he relied on the advantages of all the abilities he had gained and the advancements he had made after his reincarnation.

To win, he had to limit himself entirely to the scope of knowledge and skill he had acquired before his own death.

It would be a challenge—a dance with death—but it was a dance he welcomed, and a challenge he met with a faint smile.

The arts were one of his heart’s deepest passions.

’Focus.’

The Nine Arts: The Arcane Arts, The Martial Arts, The Sacred Arts, The Artisan Arts, The God Arts, The Primal Arts, The Primeval Arts, The Primordial Arts, and finally, The Archaic Arts.

The Arcane Arts and Martial Arts, in a sense, mirrored one another. The Arcane Arts were a study of the world and the supernatural, the harnessing and control of its forces. They were the arts of comprehension and manipulation—understanding the esoteric to shape and command the world’s hidden currents.

The Martial Arts, on the other hand, focused on the mastery of the body, blood, and flesh.

They studied the innate, seeking to emulate runes through natural movement, intertwining veins and muscle to create something greater.

Where the Arcane Arts sought to conquer the supernatural forces of the world, the Martial Arts sought to conquer the self. Together, they moved in perfect harmony—a reflective dance of internal and external mastery.

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The Sacred Arts, though, were simpler in their origins. During the longest time of his life, Caine had been unable to wield energy, crippled in his ability to interact with qi. The Sacred Arts were born out of necessity—a study of all energies and essences, providing ways to fuel his spells even in the absence of innate power.

These arts became the foundation of his terrifying control over qi, a skill that later defined him.

Then came the Artisan Arts, even simpler than the Sacred Arts. They embodied the mundane: painting, singing, poetry, philosophy, botany, and so much more.

But under Caine’s mastery, these humble practices became a profound and unified profession, bridging creativity and understanding into something grander.

These were the arts Caine had started with, and they remained among the most vital tools in his arsenal.

The Primeval Arts followed—arts tied to professions and practices involving tools and weapons.

The Primal and Primordial Arts, however, were entirely different.

The Primal Arts mimicked and schematized the ways of beasts, turning their instincts and movements into replicable techniques. The Primordial Arts applied a similar philosophy, but on the scale of the natural world.

For example, the Primal Arts could allow Caine to mimic the stealth of a shadow leopard, while the Primordial Arts could allow him to move like the shadows themselves.

When paired, these two disciplines became terrifying. Together, they formed the foundation of Caine’s Martial Arts—a union of the beastial and the worldly.

The God Arts, however, were something altogether unique. Caine had discovered them purely by coincidence, while exploring a strange ruin during a long-forgotten mission.

These arts allowed him to call upon the power of higher entities said to exist beyond the material plane. Most of Caine’s Tarnished Spells were rooted in this discipline.

Finally, there were the Archaic Arts. In simple terms, they represented the foundation of all other arts. They were Caine’s purest understanding of runes and their artistry, the culmination of his research and mastery.

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These nine arts, brought to their highest level, had allowed Caine to defy death time and time again. And now, they would serve him once more.

This time, they would be the tools with which he created his greatest Artes to date.

***

Ignoring what Oldest was doing, Caine closed his eyes and sank into a deep state of focus.

He made certain not to call upon his Dao Heart.

But he didn’t stop there. His True Wills moved, forming chains that snaked through his bond space and aspects, locking them all down.

His mind shut itself off, falling into a state of slumber, as did all his abilities. The only things left active were his Primal Will and his nine rings.

Caine lowered his stance, his eyes remaining closed, a steaming breath escaping his lips.

The flow of his blood slowed, his heartbeat falling into a sluggish, steady rhythm.

Everything within him calmed into an eerie, deliberate stillness.

Then, in an instant, his fist shot forward. It hadn’t even fully extended before his legs skidded across the platform, forcing his body backward. His other arm moved downward in a sharp strike, only for the opposite arm to sweep backward in tandem. His legs moved in sync, reversing and sweeping forward.

His blood rumbled and began to pick up speed, the sound of rushing rivers echoing faintly across the platform.

Caine’s movements remained erratic and seemingly senseless, his body falling into a rhythm it could neither stop nor comprehend.

The fluttering sound of his robes filled the air, accompanied by the impact of his fists, the rushing of his blood, and the creaking of his bones.

The atmosphere bent and twisted under the force of his movements, unable to resist the pull of his Will.

Qi flowed into him of its own accord, fueling his flesh and quickening his movements. His speed increased to the point where his strikes left overlapping afterimages in their wake, colliding and blending into one another.

The afterimages trembled, then began to form intricate formations, each one dancing in tune with Caine’s rhythm. These formations grew more complex with every passing moment.

The qi surrounding Caine split into 3,800 distinct streams, each coiling and weaving around him in perfect harmony.

Caine’s speed surged once more.

The impact of his fists echoed like falling meteors. His blood coursed through his veins with the intensity of a cosmic river. His hair swayed with a fiendish cadence, as though caught in an otherworldly storm.

Before anyone could comprehend it, a spear had materialized in his hands.

His speed became absurd, his movements a blur of light and brilliance. The spear tore through the air, shredding it apart with every strike. His steps echoed like primordial drums, shaking the platform with each beat.

Caine spun upon himself and his spear, the weapon swimming and weaving around him as if alive.

Runes bloomed across his body in rapid succession, their patterns aligning into formations that built upon one another endlessly.

RUMBLE!

From the shadows beneath him, creatures began to emerge.

Dragons coiled around his arms, their movements following the impact of his fists.

Phoenixes spiraled around his legs, leaving blazing trails in their wake. The phantom of a great ancient turtle loomed behind him, anchoring his growing presence like an unmovable mountain.

The spear in his hand flowed with the fluidity of koi fish, reflecting the natural grace of water.

His muscles rippled like vines under pale, reflective skin.

The more his movements intensified, the more his rhythm transformed.

What began as a violent, primal dance of jagged patterns evolved into something majestic—smooth, calculated, and attuned to the very frequency of the heavens.

His steps aligned with the qi streams of the world. His heartbeat resonated with the earth’s core. His breath harmonized with the cadence of the winds.

As his movements slowed, Caine’s eyes opened.

For a moment, his dance returned to chaos.

But only for a moment.