The coliseum, a sacred amphitheater carved into the jagged cliffs of Cloudpierce Summit, thrummed with anticipation. Its obsidian terraces were filled with tens of thousands—nobles, warlords, mercenaries, disciples, even shadowy figures from the underworld. All eyes were fastened on the arena below, where history waited to be carved.
The skies darkened unnaturally.
Stormclouds began gathering—not summoned by weather, but by the clash of destinies.
At the center stood two figures—Su Mengtian, eyes smoldering with lightning and poise, and Feng Yanzhao, radiating hellish crimson and infernal frost, the chilling duality of his twin bloodlines painting the battlefield with dread.
For a long moment, they simply stared.
The silence wasn't empty.
It was the breath of gods watching.
Then—a thunderclap.
And the battle began.
Feng Yanzhao struck first, a blurred motion of crimson fury. His fingers slashed the air, forming six overlapping sigils—Infernal Mirror Veins—an arcane bloodline technique that generated six afterimages of himself, each channeling a different elemental pulse. Flames licked upward from one, black ice from another, and shadowy mist from the rest.
Mengtian's pupils narrowed. "He's masking his true self among mirrored constructs…"
His foot shifted just slightly—yet enough to summon a rising surge of wind. With a short exhale, he whispered, "First Pulse—Thunderweft Step."
*Crack!*
Lightning spiraled from his soles. His body blinked out and reappeared between two of the afterimages.
*Boom!*
A violet arc slammed downward. The false construct exploded into smoke—but too slow.
Feng had anticipated it.
From the other side of the coliseum, the real Feng Yanzhao emerged, his hand now gripping a frost-bound glaive.
"Crimson Cry – Iceheart Rend!"
The weapon descended like a glacier-splitting strike. Air froze mid-motion, blades of condensed ice flying out in radial arcs.
Su Mengtian gritted his teeth and clenched his palm. His spiritual core flared, thunderlight coursing through his veins.
"Tempest Bloom – Arc Barrier!"
A semi-transparent sphere of lightning bloomed outward. The ice shards melted before reaching him—but the glaive still came.
*Clang!*
He parried with his Thunder Halberd, drawn in a blink. The clash sent ripples through the entire stadium floor, lightning and frost hissing violently where they touched.
The shockwave threw dust hundreds of meters high.
Above the chaos, Su Mengtian's Guardian Spirit stirred—the thunder-armored warrior, faint at first, but growing more defined. A second pair of hands now materialized behind Su Mengtian, gripping a halberd in mirrored stance.
Feng Yanzhao's eyes flickered. "Your Guardian dares awaken now? You think it's time?"
Mengtian didn't reply.
Instead, he rotated mid-air, lightning weaving around him like a cyclone. His halberd pulsed with a rhythm synced to his heartbeat.
"Second Pulse – Skyshock Descent!"
He came down like a falling star.
Feng, undeterred, roared. His aura twisted violently, and black flames surged upward.
"Abyssflare Lotus – Eighth Petal Unfolding!"
From the heart of his chest bloomed an infernal lotus, and each petal exploded outward, acting as mini-barriers laced with searing darkfire. The petals layered like a spiral shell to absorb the blow.
*Boom!*
Lightning met hellfire. The arena floor cratered.
Even the barrier around the coliseum shimmered.
Dust obscured everything for seconds.
In the crowd, Hallmasters, ancient cultivators, and elite clans narrowed their eyes. This was no friendly exchange.
Inside the dust, Su Mengtian coughed—smoke searing his lungs—but the pain only fed his focus. His Guardian Spirit stepped beside him fully now, the phantom's steps echoing like war drums.
"Let's test how far you've come, Feng Yanzhao," he muttered.
And the battle continued.
The dust cleared, slowly unveiling the aftermath.
The arena floor beneath Su Mengtian and Feng Yanzhao was cratered and fractured, scorched black and etched with crackling silver veins. Charred stone glowed where Su's thunder had struck; glacial residue pulsed faintly where Feng's petals had blossomed.
Su Mengtian rose from his half-kneeling posture, thunder still curling around his arms like living snakes. Beside him stood his Guardian Spirit, now fully manifest—a war-god of lightning draped in thunder-forged armor, silent but immense. Its halberd was broader than Su's, its presence stirring fear even in seasoned cultivators in the stands.
Across the broken field, Feng Yanzhao emerged from a whirlwind of heat. The tips of his long red coat fluttered in molten wind. Ice crackled from his shoulders downward, balancing his rising infernal aura.
The duality of his power—black frost and abyssal flame—wove around him like a snake and a phoenix, intertwined and unstable.
"Tch," Feng scoffed, brushing frost from his eyebrow. "That Spirit of yours… it's grown sharper. Stronger."
Su Mengtian didn't reply. His eyes had narrowed, and the hum of his bloodline was rising—each beat of his heart syncing with the crackle of his thunder.
*He's measuring me again… watching, adapting. He hasn't even released his Second Core yet. Just like I haven't released my full Spirit Mode. This phase is the dance before the chaos…*
They moved at once.
*Boom!*
Their second exchange was faster—no windup, no ritual. Feng blinked to Su's left, thrusting his glaive with a downward slice, but it was a feint. From his shadow, a spear of blood-forged ice exploded upward.
Su tilted to dodge and whispered, "Third Pulse – Static Veil."
His skin shimmered—layers of lightning armor encased his body in translucent rings. The ice struck the veil and shattered before touching skin.
Su's Guardian Spirit flicked forward, echoing its master's move. Twin halberds crossed against Feng's glaive with a thunderous clang.
Feng grinned. "Two against one? I like those odds."
He dug his boot into the stone, summoned a second glaive forged entirely from black flame, and with a roar, ignited both.
"Demonflare Dual Dance – Mirror Fang Slash!"
He spun in place, both glaives carving crimson arcs that folded on themselves, slicing a radius of pure destruction. Lava geysers burst from the slashes, and a vortex of black ash erupted.
Su Mengtian didn't flinch.
His halberd spun once, and he slammed it into the ground.
"Fourth Pulse – Thunderbind Roots!"
From the point of impact, jagged bolts of lightning erupted in branching, root-like tendrils. The roots surged across the stone floor, weaving under the flames and grabbing Feng's ankles with crackling chains of force.
The infernal whirl halted—one moment too long.
Su and his Spirit charged forward.
They moved in mirrored motion—Su slightly behind, his Guardian Spirit leading like an afterimage in flesh. Their halberds slashed in perfect arcs, vertical and horizontal, both aimed for Feng's chest and thigh.
Feng snarled and bit his thumb, drawing a sigil of blood in the air with one hand while deflecting with the other.
"Blood Mark – Ninth Fang Awakened!"
A shockwave pulsed from his body. From his back exploded a cloak of crimson spectral blades—nine in total, orbiting him like blades of divine judgment.
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
Three blades intercepted Su's attack. Another four intercepted the Guardian Spirit's sweep. But two got through.
Feng's shoulder armor cracked. His ribs burned from the second hit.
"Damn…!"
He reeled back, skidding across the stone.
Blood dripped from his lip, sizzling where it hit the stone.
Su Mengtian didn't give chase. Not yet.
His breath was calm. His halberd shimmered with golden lightning now, no longer silver-violet. The transition had begun.
*The Thunder Guardian Dragon bloodline is stirring… it senses a threshold. This isn't even the peak of what we're meant to do. I can feel it. The thunder inside me isn't just reacting—it's yearning to break free.*
He inhaled, deeply, and for a moment, the sky rumbled again.
Thunder answered.
Feng wiped blood from his mouth. His expression twisted—not in fear, but in a smile. "That's it, Su Mengtian… show me why they call you heir of dragons. Show me that thunder you've been hiding all these years."
He stabbed his glaive into the earth and raised his hands. From behind him, a portal of obsidian opened—wide, vast, like a rift into another world.
From it emerged a titanic winged creature—his Heavenly Icefire Drake, summoned in partial form, its body wrapped in black-scaled wings and frost-laced flames. Its roar echoed like glaciers breaking and volcanoes waking.
In response, Su Mengtian's Spirit raised its halberd and pointed it to the sky.
*Boom!*
A thunderbolt struck from above, piercing the coliseum barrier and splitting clouds apart. It hit the Guardian Spirit—and merged into it.
*Thunder Resonance complete,* Su thought. *He's pushing forward with summoning fusion. Then so will I.*
He stepped forward, slowly, calmly.
Then declared aloud:
"I, Su Mengtian, bearer of Thunder Guardian blood… summon thee—Manifest, Sovereign Aspect of the Guardian Spirit!"
Lightning engulfed the coliseum. The sky turned deep violet. His Guardian Spirit grew twice its size—then shrunk—until it merged directly with Su's own body, forming spectral armor of dragon-scale lightning plating across his torso, arms, and legs. His eyes turned gold-white.
The ground beneath him split.
The crowd leaned forward.
The world held its breath.
And so battle continued, one step closer to the edge.