The battlefield was a storm of chaos, yet in its center, one man stood alone.
Linghu.
Atlas, Layla, Bao, Jiang and Lin Wuye had no choice but to bring him down.
Bao gritted his teeth, forcing his body forward as he activated Step Five (Incomplete). His muscles screamed in protest and his lungs burned. Each swing cracked the earth beneath him, dust and debris rising with every strike. His sword felt heavier with each motion, but he pushed through.
Jiang followed up by unleashing Step Four (Incomplete), his blade cutting through the wind with force equivalent to a full Step Eight. The pressure around him twisted violently, tearing through stone and surroundings alike. His hands trembled, his Qi fluctuating wildly—his body wasn't ready for this technique.
But what choice did they have? If they didn't push past their limits, they wouldn't survive.
Layla inhaled sharply, focusing her energy to use Step Four (Incomplete). She also infused it with Rot Qi.
And then they clashed.
Linghu's eyes flickered with curiosity. The sheer force of their combined attacks bore down upon him, winds shrieking, the ground beneath them cracking apart from the relentless storm of Qi. He could feel it.
Bao's blade came down first, a tremendous arc of force, its weight undeniable. Jiang followed a heartbeat later, his strike precise, carrying the raw intensity of a storm. Layla was next, her movements sharp, her Rot Qi swirling around her, warping the air itself. Kai's explosion detonated in the background, an inferno threatening to swallow them all whole. And above them all, Lin Wuye's presence loomed, his technique—Step Ten: Heaven's Collapse—gathering the kind of power that could shake mountains.
Yet, even as the attacks bore down upon him, Linghu was aware.
His mind processed it all in fragments—each movement, each flaw, each strength. He didn't think, he understood.
Jiang's step was a fraction too forced. Bao's grip, just a little too tight. Layla's Rot Qi, unstable, eating away at her just as it aimed to consume him. Atlas was watching, waiting.
Linghu moved with his arm snapped upward, his palm colliding with Bao's blade mid-swing, stopping it cold. The force alone should have shattered his bones—yet he simply absorbed it, redirecting it into a pivot. Jiang's strike came next—Linghu turned his wrist, twisting the blade off-course, its momentum disrupted.
Layla's sword followed—a blur of speed and corruption.
Linghu leaned back. The tip of her blade missed his throat by a hair.
Then, he countered.
A single palm, open and precise, struck directly into her shoulder. The moment it connected, Layla's world fractured. It was her soul recoiling, being torn from her body and slammed back in.
And Linghu hadn't even used his full strength yet.
"DAMN YOU FOR DESTROYING MY NEW HOME!" Kai roared, his voice with fury as he joined the fight, making it a 6v1
He launched himself forward, fist clenched tight, every ounce of remaining Qi surging through his body. His skin shimmered with residual energy, his breath ragged, his body trembling from overuse—but he didn't care.
Linghu barely turned, his expression unreadable, before raising a single hand.
Kai's punch met Linghu's palm.
For an instant, everything seemed to freeze.
Then Kai smirked. He had never planned on just punching.
A massive explosion detonated at the point of contact, engulfing Linghu in flames. The force was so immense that it sent a fresh shockwave ripping through the battlefield, throwing debris and bodies in every direction.
The moment the fire burst outward, Kai's body gave out. He had used everything—every last drop of Qi, every ounce of willpower. His eyes shut, his body going limp as he collapsed where he stood.
Whether the explosion had worked or not, he didn't know.
But at least he had given it his all.
Lin Wuye, watching for his moment, preparing Step Ten: Heaven's Collapse.
Lin Wuye exhaled, his grip tightening around his sword. Step Ten: Heaven's Collapse was not just a technique, it was everything he could use without consequences. He still had more in him, but his body was his limitation. If he had been in his prime, this fight might have already been over.
But he wasn't.
Linghu turned to face him fully, finally acknowledging him as a real threat. "You're still standing?"
Lin Wuye rolled his shoulders, despite the sharp pain tearing through them. "I'm old, not dead."
With a deep breath, he moved.
The wind howled as he surged forward, his sword a streak of silver against the darkened battlefield. Linghu's eyes narrowed, his stance shifting at the last possible second as he lifted his arm to parry.
CLANG!
The force of the impact split the ground beneath them.
Lin Wuye didn't let up. He twisted his blade, redirecting the force of Linghu's block into a rapid follow-up. A sweeping arc aimed at his ribs.
Linghu countered with a palm strike, sending another shockwave through the air. But Lin Wuye was swinging again.
He attacked relentlessly, using precise, controlled strikes—each one flowing into the next. The battlefield trembled under the sheer speed and power of his technique. Step Ten wasn't just strength. It was absolute mastery.
Linghu finally spoke between deflecting attacks. "For an old man, you're troublesome."
Lin Wuye twisting his sword mid-air before crashing down with a strike so powerful Linghu was forced to block with both arms.
"I've been told."
They clashed again, but now, the force behind Lin Wuye's blows was undeniable. The very air whined under the pressure, cracks forming along the ground where their feet stood.
Yet, Linghu wasn't overwhelmed.
"Enough of this." Linghu's Qi surged, his own technique finally manifesting. The moment Lin Wuye's blade came down again, Linghu moved and he was fast.
A fist buried itself into Lin Wuye's stomach.
Pain exploded through his body, his breath stolen instantly. His sword nearly slipped from his grasp, his ribs screaming in protest.
He forced himself back up, gritting his teeth through the agony.
He still have more techniques.
Lin Wuye's body ignited with raw Qi, his veins glowing with an ethereal brilliance as he pushed past his current limits. Step Eleven: Tempest's Cataclysm.
The moment the technique activated, blood burst from his arms, his legs, his chest—his very body unable to contain the sheer force of Qi raging within him.
Linghu, witnessing the transformation, finally acknowledged the threat before him. His expression hardened.
"So, even you are willing to break yourself"
His own Qi surged violently to use Second Strike: Phantom Rupture
Their attacks collided.
The shockwave ripped apart the battlefield, the ground splintering in all directions. Lin Wuye met it head-on, sword flashing as he swung with all the power his failing body could muster.
The force of the impact was unlike anything before—a deafening explosion of Qi that sent a hurricane-like shockwave ripping across the battlefield, sending both warriors skidding backward, their bodies battered.
Lin Wuye was unconscious.
As the smoke cleared from the impact, Linghu emerged standing.
His robes were torn, his body bleeding, but his stance—unwavering.
Atlas staggered back, his breath shallow as he took in the battlefield before him.
Jiang was on the ground, his sword barely clutched in his trembling fingers, his chest rising and falling with ragged, uneven breaths. His Qi was flickering but he had used most of it.
Bao had collapsed against a shattered pillar, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His body twitched involuntarily, but he wasn't moving.
Layla was slumped against a mound of rubble, her sword planted in the dirt beside her for support. Her arms were covered in dark veins, the Rot Qi taking its toll.
Lin Wuye lay face down, his body still after being blasted away by Linghu's last attack. His once-proud form, the master who commanded respect, was now in dirt.
Atlas felt his stomach twist.
Everyone is down..?
His body screamed at him to move, but his legs refused. Fear gripped him.
What the hell are we fighting?