But Tian Lei did not yield.
The air tore with the force of their arrival—storms of divine heat swirling like cosmic furnaces. Every heartbeat became a battle, every breath a trial. His hammer gleamed white-hot in his grip, veins of molten gold threading through the handle, pulsing in rhythm with his own burning spirit.
The first wave struck—twelve flame beasts, each one carrying the will of a Heaven-ranked fire. They came like a hurricane, their forms shifting between dragons, lions, and serpents of pure plasma.
Tian Lei moved.
He didn't fight to destroy them. He tempered them.
Each swing of his hammer sent shockwaves of qi cascading through the realm, reshaping the flames instead of scattering them. His strikes weren't violence—they were refinement. Sparks flew in radiant arcs, and each contact between his hammer and a spirit's form forged it anew, its essence drawn into his own Heartflame.
