The sky screamed.
That was the only way to describe it.
When the Black Fang commander stepped off the war barge, the air itself seemed to tear apart, layers of pressure folding inward as if the heavens were being crushed between invisible palms. Cultivators on both sides felt it instantly. Some weaker disciples vomited blood on the spot. Others dropped from the sky like broken birds, their spiritual circulation collapsing under the weight of a single presence.
A **Nascent Soul** cultivator.
No—
not just any Nascent Soul.
A veteran.
The Black Fang commander hovered above the battlefield, arms crossed, his black armor humming softly as demonic runes awakened one after another. His gaze swept across the chaos below with calm, almost bored interest, before finally settling on Ye Tian.
"So you're still alive," he said mildly. "Good. I would have been disappointed if you'd already broken."
Ye Tian hovered in midair, blood dripping from a cut along his brow, chest rising and falling as he suppressed the aftershocks of the Fang Hound assault. The newly awakened **Dominance of the Slain** war talent pulsed within him, stabilizing his aura—but even so, the pressure bearing down on him was suffocating.
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Because the mountain moved.
A step echoed across Ironblood Peak.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just a single, measured footstep.
But it carried weight—weight so immense the battlefield shuddered in response. The cracked earth stilled. The howling wind died. Even the raging demonic beasts faltered, their feral eyes flickering with instinctive fear.
Leon walked forward.
No flight.
No technique.
Just walking.
His long coat fluttered behind him as he passed through the defensive arrays and out onto open air, his boots stepping onto nothing but empty sky. Each step solidified beneath him as though the world itself refused to let him fall.
Ironblood disciples felt their backs straighten without realizing it.
Their fear receded.
Their exhaustion dulled.
Their blood burned hotter.
"That's…"
"Sect Master Leon…"
"He's here."
Leon stopped several dozen meters from Ye Tian and looked down briefly.
"You've done well," he said quietly.
Those three words carried more weight than any reward.
Ye Tian bowed his head slightly. "I held as long as I could."
Leon's gaze returned to the Black Fang commander.
"You held more than enough."
The Black Fang commander chuckled, clapping slowly.
"So this is Ironblood's butcher," he said. "Leon of the Ironblood Peak. I was beginning to wonder when you'd crawl out."
Leon's eyes were cold.
"You brought war barges into my territory," he replied. "Killed my disciples. Released demonic beasts near my mountain."
He took another step forward.
"I won't allow you to leave."
The commander's grin widened. "You think you can stop me?"
Leon's aura finally moved.
It didn't explode.
It didn't roar.
It **settled**.
Like an ocean dropping onto the battlefield.
The pressure wasn't sharp—it was absolute. Demonic qi wavered. Enemy formations destabilized. The Black Fang commander's armor flickered as runes struggled to remain active.
"You're already stopped," Leon said.
---
Far behind the frontlines, inside the largest war barge, several Demon Sect elders stiffened.
"This pressure…!"
"That's Leon—!"
One of them slammed his palm down. "Enough of this. Deploy it."
A tense silence followed.
"Are you sure?" another elder whispered. "Using that here—"
"Do it," the first elder snarled. "If Leon kills the commander, this battle is lost."
Reluctantly, the order was given.
Deep within the war barge, ancient seals shattered.
A low, thunderous *heartbeat* echoed through the air.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Ye Tian felt it first.
His war talent screamed in warning.
"What… is that?" Lan Mei whispered, her frost trembling uncontrollably.
Fang Chen swallowed. "That's not a beast. That's… something worse."
The sky above the war barges darkened unnaturally, clouds spiraling inward toward a single point. From within the swirling darkness, something massive began to emerge.
Chains—thick as tree trunks—descended first, glowing with blood-red inscriptions.
Then a hand.
Gigantic. Gray-black. Cracked with ancient scars.
The chains rattled violently as the creature they bound struggled against them.
A roar followed.
Not loud.
Deep.
So deep it resonated inside bones rather than ears.
Several Ironblood disciples screamed as their meridians destabilized just from hearing it.
Leon's expression finally changed.
"Hmm," he murmured. "So they brought **that**."
The Black Fang commander laughed loudly. "Surprised? You should be. We didn't want to use this so early—but you forced our hand."
The massive figure dragged itself further out of the clouds, revealing a colossal humanoid corpse bound in chains, its chest hollowed out and filled with a pulsating demonic core. Runes covered its body from head to toe, sealing and controlling it.
"A War Corpse…" Lan Mei whispered in horror.
Ye Tian's fists clenched.
A War Corpse was not a cultivator.
Not a beast.
It was a **refined battlefield weapon**, created by sacrificing thousands of lives, then binding a powerful corpse with demonic formations until it became a walking calamity.
And this one…
"This one is at least Nascent Soul-level," Fang Chen said hoarsely.
The Black Fang commander spread his arms. "Behold—the **Crimson Devourer**. Created specifically for sect extermination."
The War Corpse's eyes ignited with dull crimson light.
Its chains shattered.
And it began to fall.
Straight toward Ironblood Peak.
"DEFENSIVE ARRAYS—MAXIMUM OUTPUT!" elders shouted.
Barriers flared, layer upon layer, glowing brilliantly.
The Crimson Devourer slammed into them.
The impact was catastrophic.
The outermost barrier shattered instantly.
The second cracked.
The third buckled.
Shockwaves rippled across the mountain, sending cultivators flying and collapsing buildings along the outer ridges.
Ye Tian felt his heart drop.
If that thing landed fully—
Ironblood Peak would be crippled.
Leon stepped forward.
"Ye Tian," he said without looking back.
"Yes, Sect Master!"
"Take your division. Stabilize the battlefield. Protect the disciples."
Ye Tian hesitated. "What about that thing?"
Leon's lips curved upward.
"I'll handle it."
The Black Fang commander laughed. "You think you can stop the Crimson Devourer alone?"
Leon raised his hand.
The air screamed again—this time from **fear**.
"Watch carefully," Leon said calmly. "This is how Ironblood fights monsters."
He clenched his fist.
The mountain answered.
Ironblood Peak rumbled violently as veins of crimson light surged through its foundation—ancient formations awakening one after another, responding to Leon's authority.
The Crimson Devourer froze mid-descent.
Invisible pressure wrapped around its massive body, forcing it to halt.
Leon stepped forward into open air, his aura expanding until it eclipsed the battlefield itself.
"This mountain," he said, voice echoing like judgment, "has killed greater things than you."
He drew his blade.
The world went silent.
And then—
Leon swung.