The Final Clash
The world dissolved into fire and thunder. Where Yao Xuan had stood a heartbeat before, the earth was remade into a crater of molten stone and ash. Heatwaves, visible as rippling distortions, scorched the air in every direction. The sheer concussive force would have liquefied the organs of a lesser fighter.
But Yao Xuan was already gone, reappearing a hundred meters away with the faint scent of ozone and displaced space clinging to him. The aftershock buffeted his back, tugging at his clothes, but the nine-colored aura around him shimmered and held. He didn't pause to admire the devastation. Complacency was a death sentence.
His eyes, sharp and analytical, tracked the flaming pack. Their collective rage was a tangible force, but their formation was already fraying. The smaller, slower lions lagged behind the furious vanguard led by the colossal leader. United, they were an unstoppable inferno. Separated, they were targets.
'Guerrilla tactics. Isolate and eliminate. Conserve energy for the alpha.'
The decision was instantaneous. He didn't retreat. He charged sideways, parallel to the pack, his body low and his steps devouring the ground. He became a harassing shadow, always just out of reach, forcing them to expend energy in fruitless turns and barrages of fire that scarred the forest but never found their mark. He led them on another punishing circuit, his spatial-enhanced agility a constant taunt. The gap between the fastest and the slowest lions stretched like taffy.
Ten minutes of this brutal chase passed. The lions' roars grew hoarser, their flames slightly less brilliant. And the gap had become a chasm. The leader and its closest lieutenants were nearly a hundred meters ahead of the straggler, a younger male whose panting breaths came in visible, heated plumes.
"The opportunity has arrived."
Yao Xuan pivoted on his heel, the forest floor gouging under his foot. He didn't just turn; he uncoiled, a spring of focused violence released in the opposite direction. His soul rings flashed, a purple gleam in the dappled, smoky light.
"Die! Ancestral Dragon Sky-Splitting Strike!"
He closed the distance to the straggler in a blur. The lion, surprised but defiant, reared up to meet him, its own claw swiping in a desperate, blazing arc.
CRACK!
The sound was clean and brutal. The Absolute Tear effect made a mockery of the beast's defense. The lion's claw bone shattered on impact, the force traveling up its arm with devastating consequence. Yao Xuan's strike didn't stop; it carried through, the dragon-clawed fist connecting squarely with the lion's temple.
Another wet, final crack. The massive head snapped sideways. The fierce light in its eyes blew out like a candle in a gale. Its body swayed for a moment before collapsing to the earth with a ground-shaking thump. A stream of potent purple spiritual energy wept from the corpse, swiftly drawn into Yao Xuan's awaiting soul spirit.
[Slayed 1 Thousand-Year Flame Lion. Gained 29 Gold Evolution Points.]
He didn't celebrate. He was already moving, a predator among predators. Another lone lion, separated in the confusion, met a similar end. A sharp, precise blow, another echoing crack of bone, and another surge of energy absorbed.
[Slayed 1 Thousand-Year Flame Lion. Gained 32 Gold Evolution Points.]
[Completed Temporary Quest: Slay the Flame Lion Phase 2. Gained 150 Gold Evolution Points.]
'Good. Capital reinvested and growing.' The thought was a flicker in his disciplined mind. He allowed himself the faintest ghost of a smile before the main pack, realizing the trick, swerved back towards him with renewed, frothing fury.
The next hour was a grueling testament to stamina, strategy, and sheer will. Yao Xuan became a phantom of the battlefield, a specter of calculated death. He would vanish into the thicker woods, appear to strike a flanking lion, then dissolve again before the retaliatory firestorm could converge. One by one, the roars of challenge turned to roars of pain, then to silence. The forest floor became a grim mosaic of fallen flame and fading spiritual light.
Finally, the last ordinary male lion fell. The cacophony of battle faded, leaving an eerie, smoke-tinged quiet.
In the center of the devastation, standing amidst the fallen, was the Flame Lion Leader. Its massive chest heaved. The once-proud, fiery mane was matted with ash and soot. But its eyes… its eyes were pure, undiluted hatred, a burning promise of mutual annihilation. It no longer merely saw an enemy; it saw the end of its world.
Yao Xuan faced it, his own breathing controlled but deep. His clothes were singed, a fine layer of grime coated his skin, and a dull ache spoke of drained reserves even after the system's replenishment. But his posture was straight, his gaze unwavering.
"Don't worry," Yao Xuan said, his voice calm but carrying clearly through the clearing. It wasn't a taunt, but a simple, cold statement of fact. "Soon, I'll send you to join them."
The lion's response was a roar that seemed to tear from its very soul, ragged and mournful yet brimming with killing intent. It didn't bother with fireballs. It channeled every shred of its remaining demonic flame into its body, becoming a living comet. It charged, the ground cracking under its weight, its one good front claw raised high, slicing through the air with a screech of superheated wind aimed to cleave Yao Xuan in two.
"Now!" Yao Xuan's eyes blazed with focused spirit.
The leader was a true behemoth—nearly four meters of corded muscle encased in flames so intense they glowed white at the core. Its aura pressed against Yao Xuan's senses, a crushing weight of at least 2,400 years of cultivation, its combat prowess dwarfing its fallen kin.
Every nerve in Yao Xuan's body pulled taut. He gathered his strength—blood energy boiling, soul power cycling to its peak, the Ancestral Dragon's primordial might resonating deep within his bones.
As the lion's killing blow descended, Yao Xuan's first purple soul ring ignited. "Ancestral Dragon Sky-Splitting Strike!"
Nearly a fifth of his soul power vanished, converted into a torrent of concentrated, nine-colored power that encased his right arm. He didn't back away. He met the charge with a forward leap of his own, his right claw swinging up in a brilliant arc to intercept the falling fiery talon.
BANG!
The collision was not just physical; it was a clash of opposing dominions. Demonic flame, capable of melting steel, met the sovereign, unifying energy of the Ancestral Dragon. A visible shockwave of orange and nine-colored light exploded outward. Ancient trees within a ten-meter radius groaned as their bark was stripped away in an instant, and a blizzard of shredded leaves filled the air.
The Lion Leader was monstrously strong. But against the layered might of Yao Xuan's top-tier martial soul, his profound bloodline, and a skill designed to break the unb breakable, it was at a fundamental disadvantage. With a pained, choked snarl, the lion's colossal form was flung backwards through the air. It crashed into the base of a thick oak with a deafening crash of splintering wood, gouging a deep crater into the earth before sliding to a stop.
It struggled to rise, its previously magnificent form now a picture of battered defiance. Its right foreleg, the one that had met Yao Xuan's strike, was bent backwards at a sickening angle, the fur and flesh around the impact point a ruined, bloody mess. The flames around it sputtered weakly.
The battle was not over, but the outcome was now written in the lion's broken stance and in Yao Xuan's steady, advancing gaze. The final act awaited.
Outside the platform, the observation room was a portrait of stunned silence.
Tang Wulin's jaw was slightly agape, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Xie Xie had stopped fidgeting entirely, his usual playful demeanor replaced by stark, respectful assessment. Wang Jinzi and Zhang Yangzi simply stared, the scale of the combat reshaping their understanding of what was possible.
Long Hengxu slowly closed his fan with a soft snap. "To dismantle a pack of that caliber… not with brute force alone, but with the mind of a master tactician. He turned their strength against them."
Wu Changkong gave a single, firm nod, his arms crossed. "Precision under pressure. He didn't waste a single movement. That's not just talent; that's forged instinct."
Among them, Gu Yue stood like a silver statue, her expression composed. But her eyes were fixed on the screen, on Yao Xuan's singed figure standing firm against the wounded titan. Within her, the duality intensified.
'Combat analysis: Efficiency remains above 92%. Resource depletion within acceptable parameters given enemy tier. The concluding maneuver will likely exploit the injury to the right anterior limb. Probability of success: 99.7%.'
The clinical stream of thought hit a sudden, silent snag. Her gaze caught on a subtle detail—a slight tremor in Yao Xuan's left hand as he regripped, a sign of muscle fatigue and soul power strain the system's repair hadn't fully masked.
A memory, soft and warm, intruded upon the cold calculus. Na'er, watching from the doorway of their Aolai City home as Yao Xuan returned from a long day of manual labor and secret training, his hands raw and trembling slightly as he tried to hide them. Her own small hands reaching out, not to heal, but to offer a steadying touch on his arm.
Gu Yue's own fingers, resting at her side, twitched almost imperceptibly. The sovereign's analysis faltered, blurred by a surge of protective instinct that felt older than her current form. Her breath shallowed for a fraction of a second. The bond, woven from past tenderness and present, awe-filled observation, pulled taut in her chest.
The final blow was yet to fall in the simulation, but in the quiet observation room, another, more personal understanding deepened: to witness his battles was to share in his burdens, and that sharing was carving a place for him ever deeper within the complex tapestry of Gu Yuena's heart.