Outside the Flame Clan compound, the air was thick with killing intent. The gates bristled with experts of the Iron Cloud Clan, their oppressive qi weighing down upon Virtian City. Word had reached their ears through covert spy networks that the kid with the Dragon King bloodline had appeared, and in response they mobilized a strike force of top‑tier cultivators, determined to bring him down.
Ian was, of course, present among them. His heart burned with vengeance. Centuries ago, the Iron Cloud Clan had been humiliated, their pride shattered by the dragon boy's adopted father and Elijah. Today, Ian sought repayment in blood—and this time, the dragon boy would not escape his grasp.
He stood at the forefront, his aura blazing at the peak of the Sky Limit Realm. Behind him, fifteen elders of equal strength and six half‑step Transcendent cultivators formed a wall of hostility, their combined qi pressing down like a storm. Together they demanded, with silent menace, that the Flame Clan surrender the boy.
Before Ricard or any Flame Clan elder could respond, a figure appeared first.
Silver‑blue light shimmered faintly around him, his aura masked yet sovereign. Jalen stepped forward, calm and unyielding, his gaze fixed upon the group of Iron Cloud cultivators.
Ian smirked. "So you didn't run away like last time, hiding behind your elder's flame and vanishing in smoke. Good. Since you've chosen to stand before me now, I'll end this swiftly."
With a sneer, he unleashed his cultivation. Metal qi surged from his body, condensing into dozens of swords that whistled through the air toward Jalen. The blades gleamed with killing intent, sharp enough to pierce mountains.
But before they could reach him, the swords melted into liquid slag, consumed by the blue fire qi radiating from Jalen's body. Gasps erupted from the crowd. Ian's eyes narrowed. Shocked that this kid was able to fend against his attack, but no matter, the next strike should be his final blow.
He followed with another strike, pouring his peak‑stage Sky Limit cultivation into a killing blow meant to finish the boy he thought was Jael. His aura roared, metal qi forming a spear that split the air.
But as he closed the distance, Jalen's eyes flashed.
The ninth technique of the High Voltage Technique—Heaven's Fang Descent—activated.
A massive lightning strike tore through the heavens, descending with the fury of a god. The bolt struck Ian squarely, blasting him deep into the earth. The ground convulsed as a crater yawned open beneath him, shockwaves rippling across Virtian City. Towers shuddered, bridges cracked, and even the Flame Clan's protective barriers splintered under the force—though the strike had not been aimed at them.
Ian lay broken in the crater, his body scorched, his clothing in tatters, his aura flickering.
But the lightning did not stop with him. Bolts arced outward, lashing at the Iron Cloud elders. The heavens themselves seemed to rage, striking indiscriminately. Shields of metal qi rose in desperation, but they shattered like brittle glass. Sky Limit cultivators staggered, blood spraying as their defenses collapsed. Even the half‑step Transcendents, though they dodged, could not escape unscathed—robes scorched, bodies trembling beneath the weight of blows they could not fully avoid.
The crowd of Flame Clan disciples and elders stood frozen, their eyes wide. This was no ordinary strike. This was sovereignty manifest.
Ian staggered to his feet, blood all over, his teeth gnashing, his fists clenched. "You… you're not the Dragon Boy. Which means you're that kid from back then. But how? When did you get so strong?"
Though Jalen's aura registered as half‑step Transcendent, the force behind his strike was deadlier than any half‑step Ian had ever faced. Then a shocking realization hit him; however, it was too late to regret it.
Jalen did not reply. His silence was heavier than words.
Instead, he moved. The fifth technique of the High Voltage Art—Flash Step Tempest—activated, leaving thunder clones in his wake.
The Spirit Wind Art's fifth technique—Tornado Slash—fused through Thread Fusion, the 15th technique of the Light Art, surged from his blade. At only twenty percent of his strength, the strike was enough to sever Ian's head cleanly from his shoulders. His body disintegrated into ash and fragments, scattered by the storm like dust before the heavens.
Gasps erupted from the onlookers.
But Jalen did not stop.
With Luminous Veil Step, he moved at light speed, his figure blurring into streaks of radiance. He struck at the other elders. Those in the Sky Limit Realm managed to dodge three of his blows, counterattacking desperately, but their strikes failed to pierce his defenses. One by one, their heads fell beneath his sword, and their bodies exploded from nuclear Jalen's tenth spirit fire art technique.
The six half‑step Transcendent cultivators lasted longer, trading five moves before Jalen shifted his technique. He abandoned Tornado Slash and unleashed the eighth technique of the Spirit Fire Art—Soul‑Piercing Flame Blast.
Compressed blue fire qi erupted, piercing their defenses and igniting their souls from within. Their screams echoed briefly before silence claimed them. Jalen's blade followed, severing five of the six lives completely. He gave them no chance to reincarnate, eliminating them thoroughly.
But Jalen was not finished. He seized the elder that he left alive; his spirit sense surged, breaking into the man's spirit sea with overwhelming force. The elder screamed, his mind unraveling beneath the pressure.
Images flooded Jalen's consciousness. Memories of secret meetings, whispered alliances, and blood‑stained pacts. The truth crystallized: the Iron Cloud Clan had worked with the shadow race centuries ago to eliminate Jael and are still actively hunting his son. Ian's words had hinted at it, but now Jalen had confirmation.
His aura flared, silver‑blue lightning crackling across the compound. So they dare to make his son run like an animal; therefore, the Iron Cloud Clan will no longer exist.
The elder's spirit sea shattered, his body collapsing lifelessly to the ground before exploding to pieces.
Jalen turned, his gaze sharp, his decision absolute.
"Calen," he called.
His disciple appeared instantly at his side. "I'm here, Master."
"Let's go."
Jalen did not wait for a response. His aura surged, and in a flash of light he teleported them both from the scene.
Their destination was clear: Iron Cloud City.
For the spectators who had gathered outside the compound, they stared in awe and horror and still couldn't seem to recover from what they had seen.
Ricard and the Flame Clan elders stood frozen, unable to believe their eyes. This youth, cloaked as a half‑step transcendent, had cut down cultivators at the pinnacle of the world with ease.
For the Flame Clan, it was salvation. For the Iron Cloud, it was doom.
This was like a dream or a nightmare—it depended on who watched. And as Jalen vanished with Calen, the whispers spread like wildfire: Iron Cloud City itself would soon face judgment.