The Vanguard and the Sovereign
"Don't worry." Yao Xuan's voice was a low, steady rumble, meant for Gu Yue alone amidst the gathering storm of crimson eyes. "The lesser wolves cannot pierce my defenses. Focus your strength. I will hold the line."
He offered her a brief, confident smile—a flash of warmth in the chilling gloom. It wasn't boastful; it was a promise, a statement of fact born from understanding his own power and his role. He would be her shield. He would be the wall.
Then he turned, and the warmth hardened into unyielding resolve.
"Ancestral Dragon, possess me!"
The transformation was swift, a surge of light and scale. "Ancestral Dragon Overlord Body!" His second soul ring blazed, and his aura exploded outwards, a tangible force of primordial dominance. Pale, lustrous dragon scales armored him, and his claws became instruments of final judgment. He took a deliberate step forward, placing himself squarely between Gu Yue and the advancing tide of shadows.
His enhanced presence was like a bonfire in the dark. Gu Yue, feeling the solid, radiant heat of his power at her back, instinctively shifted closer, a subtle movement of trust. The two Netherworld Wolf Kings, however, recoiled. Their blood-red eyes narrowed with primal caution. This was no ordinary prey. They exchanged a silent, guttural communication and began to slowly pace backward, their pack mirroring the movement with unnerving synchronicity.
The circle of malice expanded, creating an illusion of retreat. Fifty meters. The forest held its breath.
Yao Xuan's gaze remained icy, his stance unmoving. 'A feint,' he thought. 'They're testing our reaction, looking for panic.'
Suddenly, the lead Wolf King threw its head back and unleashed a piercing, ululating howl that slithered through the trees. The signal. The false retreat snapped into a vicious, coordinated assault. Dozens of gray-black forms surged forward as one, a wave of fangs and shadows.
"I knew it! Gu Yue, empower me! Then, raise earthworks—leave only one approach!"
His commands were crisp, immediate. There was no room for discussion, only action.
"Understood!"
Her reply was swift, her focus absolute. Silver light flared as her first two soul rings ignited simultaneously. A swirl of benevolent wind wrapped around Yao Xuan, enhancing his agility, making his already formidable movements preternaturally swift.
But her main effort went to the earth. With a sweeping gesture, the ground behind them, to their left and right, erupted. Walls of packed soil and stone, three meters high and half a meter thick, shot upward, forming a crude but effective triangular bastion. They were left with a single, narrow killing ground in front of Yao Xuan.
Yet she wasn't done. With a flick of her wrist, moisture from the air and soil condensed and flash-froze, sheathing the inner and outer faces of the earthen walls in a thick, slick carapace of ice. Climbing would be impossible; the walls were now a slippery, frigid barrier.
She accomplished this complex, tri-elemental manipulation in mere seconds. In the observation room, there were soft intakes of breath. Such precise, rapid, and economical control was the mark of a once-in-a-generation talent.
"Yao Xuan," she said, her voice slightly breathless, a faint pallor touching her cheeks from the expenditure. "The field is yours." Her silver eyes held his, full of expectation and complete trust.
"Leave it to me." His answer was simple, a vow.
He turned to face the funnel of death. Three hundred-year Netherwolves, driven by pack fury, were the first through the gap, their maws frothing, claws extended.
He didn't step back. He stepped into them.
"Die."
His movement was a blur of golden scales and wind-enhanced speed. He didn't waste energy on wide swings. His strikes were surgical, efficient. His dragon claws, sharper than any blade, lanced out, targeting the soft underbellies and exposed throats as the wolves leaped.
SHRIK-THUD. SHRIK-THUD.
The sounds were wet, final. Crimson spiritual residue, simulating blood and viscera, sprayed the ground. Wolves fell mid-pounce, dissolving into data before they hit the earth. He was an immovable object and an unstoppable force combined, a grisly reaper in the narrow pass.
Ten seconds. Twenty wolves lay shattered. The scent of simulated death hung thick. Yet the pack's frenzy only grew, fueled by some dark, collective will.
The two Wolf Kings had seen enough. Their cunning red eyes assessed the stalemate. With silent understanding, they split. Instead of wasting their strength on Yao Xuan's front, they flowed like living smoke to the sides, targeting Gu Yue's iced walls.
A thousand-year soul beast's strength was not to be underestimated. Their powerful claws, wreathed in shadowy energy, dug into the frozen earth. Cracks spider-webbed through the ice. The walls, formidable against century beasts, would not hold long.
"Yao Xuan, on your flanks!" Gu Yue's warning was calm, but a thread of tension ran through it. She marshaled her remaining soul power, not for defense, but for area denial. Walls of searing flame erupted from the soil in front of the advancing century wolves, cutting off reinforcements and filling the air with heat and confusion.
"Focus on the pack. I have them."
His voice was bedrock. He had seen the Kings move. As the first wolf king's head breached the crumbling wall-top, Yao Xuan was already turning.
The dynamic shifted. He could no longer be just a door. He had to be a whirlwind.
With a mental command, he channeled his power deeper. The first layer of his Qi and Blood Meridians ignited. "Ancestral Dragon's Right Claw!" His right arm expanded further, the claws elongating, gleaming with concentrated destructive light. At the same time, his first soul ring flashed.
"First Soul Skill: Ancestral Dragon Sky-Rending Claw!"
He didn't choose. He attacked both. As the left Wolf King tore through the ice-wall, and the right one scrambled over the crumbling rampart, Yao Xuan moved with the wind's speed and a dragon's fury. He became a blur of motion, a golden tempest in the heart of the fortified triangle. One moment his empowered claw was ripping toward the exposed neck of the left King, the next he was pivoting, a devastating kick wreathed in dragon-force aimed at the ribs of the right King as it landed.
He was outnumbered by the leaders and harried by the occasional century wolf that slipped past Gu Yue's flames. But he was not outmatched. His every move was a declaration: This ground was his. She was under his protection. The Ancestral Dragon's aura, now fully unleashed, pressed down on the wolf kings like a mountain, slowing their instincts, filling their bestial minds with a layer of primordial dread.
The battle within the earthen fortress became a chaotic, brutal ballet of scale, shadow, and silver-supported flame. It was no longer just a hunt; it was a siege. And at its center stood Yao Xuan, a promise made flesh and scale, determined to prove that his vow—"I will protect you"—was unbreakable.