The Elysium Across Deep Space

“Don’t be so stubborn, Old Chen. No one is trying to drive you into a corner. In the end, it’s just a sparring match to foster competition and achieve the goal of advancing together,” the old man in traditional clothing said amicably.

“Do you really think I’m not aware that someone wants to suppress the Old Arts?" Old Chen said with a cold tone.

“You’re as stubborn as always, Old Chen. After the passing of the Four Elders of the Old Arts, there are only a few strong and thoughtful individuals left in this field, like you and maybe a couple more.” The old man in traditional clothing shook his head. He wore a calm expression, but spoke with confidence.

Old Chen remarked, “How confident of you, Chang Heng. It seems that discovering a pathway to transcendence and experiencing a significant boost in strength has completely transformed your introverted nature.”

Chang Heng, the old man in traditional clothing, had short black hair. Despite a few wrinkles that appeared when he spoke, he bore little resemblance to an old man. His eyes held a profound strength that came from his heart. What was most astonishing was the faint halo surrounding his body, as if he possessed some enigmatic power.

He stood on the brown frozen ground, his body radiating a hazy light. Just a short distance away, a battleship loomed, blending the elements of mythology and technology into a surreal scene.

Everyone’s heart raced as they witnessed this spectacle. Terra Nova had seen the emergence of many new species over the years, and recently, it had been revealed that these species were brought from somewhere else. Rumors suggested that the New Arts was connected to that place.

Old Chen stepped forward and asked, “You want to fight me again after all these years?”

The intense conflicts between the New Arts and the Old Arts had started long ago, although outsiders failed to grasp its significance.

Chang Heng shook his head and replied, “No, I'm only conducting theoretical research at the moment.”

The crowd was stunned by this revelation.

“Let’s settle it directly and see if the declining Old Arts can serve its final purpose!” someone shouted from a distance.

It was a three meters tall muscular man who carried a black steel baton that made a resounding sound as it struck the ground. Despite his towering stature, he displayed remarkable agility and strength. The steel baton in his hand weighed about one hundred kilograms.

Wang Xuan was amazed by the sheer height of this person.

“He’s one of the recent human species who had undergone multiple genetic modifications while still in the womb,” Wu Yin whispered.

“Is he very strong?” Wang Xuan asked.

Wu Yin nodded solemnly and replied, “Very strong. His physical abilities alone allow him to leap ten meters high in the air. He possesses incredible strength, like the fierce generals of ancient times who could lift heavy cauldrons effortlessly. He can also run as fast as the tigers and leopards in the forests.”

These were the capabilities of a super body, and the best among them were even more terrifying, similar to Superman. The three-meter tall super body was incredibly muscular with tough but translucent skin. The tall man challenged, “Those who practiced the Old Arts, come duel with me. I shall spar with you using your cold weapons!”

Before Old Chen could respond, a voice came from mid-air. “Chen Yongjie, I am your opponent!”

The middle-aged man, who had previously piloted a silver-gray mecha, now appeared in a blue, nearly translucent mecha. It had a soft metallic luster and seemed to be made of unusual materials.

Standing next to Qing Mu, Wu Chenglin’s face contorted in surprise as he softly murmured, “That’s a new type of mecha developed last year. The material is highly unique, sourced from the place where the New Arts was founded. It’s incredibly strong and is exceptionally resistant to external damage.”

Old Chen looked up and said, “I bet that mecha isn’t cheap, right? It probably costs a few hundred millions Novadollars. If I were to strike it down, wouldn’t you all be heartbroken?”

“Chen Yongjie, you are still as conceited as ever!” The blue shiny mecha hovered above, as the voice of the middle-aged man echoed from within. “Times have changed. Mechas can now be mass-produced and scaled up to be as powerful as experts. In the field of Old Arts, how many experts can possibly emerge in an era?”

“When the Old Arts defeated you and you switched sides, your disdain for the Old Art became apparent. Your actions are truly despicable. I firmly believe that individuals like you have played a major role in the ongoing efforts to suppress the Old Arts completely.” Old Chen's voice carried a chilling tone as he locked his gaze on the blue mecha hovering above.

“In the end, this is still a battle between the New Arts and the Old Arts. What does it have to do with people like you who are piloting mechas? Once a practitioner of the Old Arts enter the right mecha, they can easily defeat all of you!” Old Chen exuded a murderous aura. His words made everyone’s heart skip a beat as he dismissed the mecha faction as if it were not even a worthy rival.

“The Old Arts are difficult to master, so those who had been genetically modified or piloting mechas began exploring the New Arts. Eventually, some succeeded in venturing down this path. In the end, it boils down to a battle between the Old and the New Arts, with no other third-party factions involved!” Old Chen said coldly and disdainfully.

“How dare you look down upon those in the mecha faction?!” the man in the blue mecha retorted indignantly.

Old Chen shot him an indifferent look and said, “Your past defeat has clouded your judgment. How powerful do you think you are? The moment I get into a mecha, you’re nothing more than a humanoid target concealed in a pile of scrap metal. Not just you, but all of you!”

Wang Xuan marveled at Old Chen’s courage and scornful attitude toward everyone on the opposing side. His words could easily incite public anger.

“Old Chen, do you truly believe that you can single-handedly take on everyone? Even if you achieve impressive battle results, you won’t be able to sustain it for long. While it proves your remarkable mastery of the Old Arts, it doesn’t reflect the overall strength of the Old Arts. Once you die, so will the Old Arts, with no one left to continue its legacy. No one will even mention the Old Arts again!” Chang Heng said.

Other experts in the field of Old Arts were also present, and upon hearing Chang Heng’s words, a surge of indignation washed over them. Although Chang Heng was not addressing them directly, his words struck a nerve, provoking them and challenging their skills, daring them to respond.

An expert from the field of Old Arts stepped forward and said, “Old Chen, today is not solely about you. Don’t stand in our way.”

It was a burly man in his forties. Standing at nearly two meters tall, he carried a long alloy sword. While he was considered tall and robust among ordinary people, he appeared petite compared to those with super bodies.

With little exchange of words, the two immediately engaged in combat. The clash of their weapons created an ear-splitting symphony of metal as sparks flew everywhere.

The middle-aged man managed to block the three-meter tall super body. Their strength seemed evenly matched, indicating the middle-aged man’s considerable skill in the Old Arts. After all, he was born as an ordinary person, while his opponent was born a different species.

In an ancient battlefield, both of them would have been regarded as fierce generals.

“It’s a shame that practicing the Old Arts cannot transcend the limits of the mortal body. In a cold weapon duel like this, it ultimately becomes futile,” the old man in the traditional clothing remarked.

Suddenly, the three-meter tall man’s super body emitted a hazy blue light, causing his strength to skyrocket. He effortlessly shattered his opponent’s long alloy sword and impaled him with a steel baton.

Blood gushed out as the middle-aged man’s face contorted in excruciating pain. The steel baton had pierced through his chest. He tried to grasp it with both hands, but was unable to muster his strength.

“Brother Li!” Qing Mu shouted, recognizing this man as an old acquaintance of his.

The man with super body lifted him up and swung the steel baton with tremendous force, hurling the middle-aged man like a scarecrow over ten meters away. He crashed to the ground with a sickening thud, covered in blood, and never moved again.

Qing Mu and a group of Old Arts practitioners swiftly rushed over to the middle-aged man’s side. After assessing his condition, it became evident that his injuries were fatal. He had been pierced through the heart and his internal organs had been destroyed by the piercing blue light.

“Too ruthless!”

“Brother Li!” someone cried out in sorrow.

“I guess the experts of the Old Arts aren’t as impressive as they claim,” a voice from the opposing side remarked. A middle-aged man in his forties stepped forward.

Despite his withered and thin appearance, his eyes shone like golden lamps. He added, “As a practitioner of the New Arts, I must express my deep disappointment in all of you. Other than Mr. Chen, I highly doubt anyone else in the field of Old Arts is worthy of my attention.”

Old Chen stepped forward and made his way toward the middle aged name.

The middle-aged man within the blue mecha spoke, “Old Chen, are you finally ready to make a grand entrance?”

Chang Heng let out a soft chuckle. “Old Chen, don’t you think it’s about time to acknowledge that, apart from yourself, there isn’t much remaining in the field of the Old Arts? It’s a dying art!”

“Don’t provoke me, or I'll slaughter all of you in an instant!” Old Chen snapped, his voice dripping with murderous intent.

Among the group of Old Arts practitioners, an old man in his sixties stepped forward and said, “Old Chen, I’m sure you know about my circumstances. My practice has gone awry, and I don’t have much time left to live. Let me take the fight, even if it means my death. I don’t want to die without challenging those who follow the path of the New Arts.”

He had every intention of going out without knowing who his opponent would be. The idea of Old Chen being the only person among those who practiced the Old Arts to fight was simply unbearable. It would be a blow to their collective pride and only serve to validate the claims of what those people across the street had said—the Old Arts had declined to the point where it was no longer worthy of attention.

Old Chen sighed. He knew this old man well, stubborn and determined. He would not back down even if someone tried to stop him.

Although he appeared old and frail, there was a hidden strength within him. His fists emitted a faint halo of light, and there were faint rumbles coming from within his body, subtly hinting at the power he possessed. He directed this force toward the thin middle-aged man, who had taken the path of the New Arts.

The middle-aged man’s face paled. Realizing that he could not match the old man’s strength, he quickly retreated, avoiding a direct confrontation. Only when the old man’s fists dimmed did he seize the opportunity to counterattack.

The two men engaged in a fierce battle, their movements so swift that the sound of wind and thunder accompanied each strike.

After a few exchanges, the old man suddenly stopped moving. His body began to wither, and a red haze escaped from him, as if his soul had been drained. His eyes lost their spark, and he stood there, motionless.

The red haze reached the withered middle-aged man, who condensed it into a sharp sword. With a swift swing, he severed the old man’s head.

“No one should interfere!” Old Chen’s voice thundered with anger, causing the ears of those present to ring.

“Old Chen, can’t you see? The decline of the Old Arts is inevitable!” someone coldly remarked.

“So, what’s next, Old Chen?” The middle-aged man in the blue mecha sneered coldly.

Old Chen looked up at his blue mecha in the air and replied, “I’ll start with you!”

He drew a black sword that measured over a meter in length. The sword lacked any cold gleam and did not seem particularly sharp. He pointed it toward the sky and the back of his clothes ripped open, revealing a pair of silver wing-like extensions on his back. Without delay, streams of silver light burst forth, launching Old Chen into the air.

“Those propellers were developed by my family. They’re incredibly fast, capable of catching up to mechas,” Wu Yin explained to Wang Xuan.　

The middle-aged man was shocked by its astonishing speed. Nevertheless, he fearlessly swung his large sword at Old Chen. “I would love to see how you can break this new material…”

Clang! The next moment, the alloy sword in his hand shattered. Old Chen had only swiftly passed by him, then gracefully returned to the ground and sheathed his black sword.

Blood rained from the sky as the blue mecha in mid-air was split in half. It was astonishing to see how effortlessly an advanced mecha constructed with revolutionary materials was destroyed!

The middle-aged man, severed at the waist, plummeted from the sky, meeting a gruesome end upon impact.

Old Chen, who had landed gracefully on the ground, silently strode toward the three-meter-tall man with super body. With a powerful strike, Old Chen slapped the steel baton out of his hands.

The force was immense, causing the hands of his opponent to bleed and all his nails to be broken. The steel baton flew several meters away, and the man with super body staggered backward, overwhelmed by the impact.

Old Chen moved like a streak of light, closing the distance in an instant. He landed a forceful slap on his opponent’s chest. The three-meter-tall man was sent flying twelve meters before his super body disintegrated in mid-air, transforming into a horrifying rain of blood that crashed to the ground!

“Old Chen, are you sure you want to fight alone?” someone shouted.

“If you’re afraid, then you can come at me all together!” Old Chen’s voice echoed, as he effortlessly leaped over ten meters in an instant to confront the withered middle-aged man who had chosen the path of the New Arts.