The beast's presence crushed down on them the moment it moved again, its massive body surging forward with terrifying force. The ground split beneath its steps, trees shuddering as its power rolled outward like a wave. Wang Yan was forced back half a step after a head-on clash, the vibration running through his sword and straight into his arms. He steadied himself quickly, breath heavy but controlled, eyes never leaving the beast.
"This won't end like this," he said between impacts, voice low, carried by instinct rather than urgency. "I can try something… but I need a little time."
No one questioned him.
Zhao Qing reacted first, lightning flaring brighter as he drove himself straight into the beast's path. He didn't try to overpower it—he provoked it, forcing its attention onto himself with raw, explosive strikes. Chen Yu closed in from the side, his movements tightening, wind cutting in sharp, controlled arcs that harassed joints and blind spots, never staying long enough to be caught.
Liu Ming adjusted without a word. His spear no longer searched for openings; it dictated them. Each thrust was deliberate, aimed at restricting movement, anchoring the beast's body for brief moments before it could surge again. Together, the three of them pressed harder, not slowing the battle but intensifying it, keeping the beast locked in constant reaction.
Behind that pressure, Wang Yan stayed still.
He didn't retreat, nor did he force his way forward. Instead, he let the rhythm form around him. Each clash ahead bought him another fraction of time. Zhao Qing's thunder, Chen Yu's wind, Liu Ming's spear—each movement became a steady marker. Within that narrow space, Wang Yan gathered himself.
His breathing compressed naturally, short and dense. His sword movements tightened until there was no excess left. Wide arcs disappeared, replaced by clean, repeated paths. The resistance in front of him no longer scattered—it layered inward, pressure stacking with every exchange.
The beast roared and surged back violently, power flooding outward, but something had changed. Its movements were still fierce, still overwhelming, yet heavier now. Each step lagged just slightly behind its intent.
Wang Yan felt it.
"Keep it like this," he said quietly, without looking away. "Just a little longer."
Zhao Qing answered with another thunderous charge, lightning detonating as he smashed into the beast's flank. Chen Yu slipped past its reach, wind tearing across exposed flesh in quick, precise cuts. Liu Ming struck in rhythm with them, spear driving in at the exact moments the beast tried to stabilize, denying it that chance again and again.
That rhythm held.
And within it, Wang Yan moved.
He stepped forward as the pressure peaked. The world narrowed to a single line, breath and motion aligning perfectly. His sword descended—not fast, not slow, but exact—carrying everything inward in one focused, deliberate strike.
The blade cut straight through the beast's defense.
A heavy, dull impact followed as the sword tore into flesh. Blood sprayed across the ground, and the beast staggered violently, its roar breaking into a ragged howl.
The damage was real.
The beast lurched backward, power surging chaotically as it struggled to recover. Its balance was broken, its breathing uneven and strained.
"That did it," Chen Yu muttered as he moved again. "It's hurt bad."
Zhao Qing didn't hesitate. Thunder exploded as he charged in, smashing into the wounded side with brutal force, lightning ripping through weakened defenses. Liu Ming followed immediately, spear driving forward in relentless thrusts, each strike denying movement, preventing recovery.
The fight shifted completely.
Chen Yu darted in and out, wind slicing deeper each time as the beast's reactions slowed. Blood soaked into the forest floor, its massive body trembling with every step.
The four pressed the attack with seamless coordination. The beast roared once more, the sound weaker now, its attacks heavy and desperate. Each breath came in harsh, broken gasps as its strength drained away.
Wang Yan watched carefully.
When the beast finally faltered, its body sagging as it struggled to remain standing, Wang Yan stepped forward alone. His sword lowered slightly, breathing steady, presence calm.
"This ends here," he said softly.
The final strike fell clean and decisive, ending the struggle completely.
The massive body collapsed, crashing into the earth as silence swept through the forest. Dense Spirit energy surged upward, and a purple soul ring slowly rose from the fallen beast, heavy with power, hovering in the air before Wang Yan.
The tension finally drained from the clearing once the beast fell. Zhao Qing let out a low laugh, stretching his arms as the last sparks of lightning faded.
"That was insane," he said, exhaling heavily. "I thought that thing would crush us for sure."
Chen Yu wiped blood from his sleeve, grinning broadly. "Insane? Sure. But exhilarating. I'll take that over a boring hunt any day."
Liu Ming, however, remained focused on Wang Yan, eyes sharp and calculating. "That final strike… it wasn't just about power," he said thoughtfully. "The flow, the timing… it was seamless. You didn't force it."
Wang Yan nodded, meeting his friend's gaze. "You've all practiced the breathing method with me, and you've seen how I refined my sword techniques all these years. Today, I merged them."
Chen Yu blinked, then laughed softly. "Merged? So that's why it felt like the beast was being pushed by something invisible?"
"Yes," Wang Yan said calmly. "While you held it in place, I didn't treat breathing and sword as separate anymore. They moved together—aligned perfectly. That's why it cut through so cleanly and why the beast slowed."
Zhao Qing's eyes gleamed. "So the timing we bought you… that was what made it possible?"
"Exactly," Wang Yan replied. "It's still rough, but it works. I can feel the potential. This technique… it's going to be very powerful once fully developed."
The purple soul ring hovered above the fallen beast, pulsing with heavy, undeniable energy.
Zhao Qing stepped back, eyes on Wang Yan. "Then don't waste time. We'll cover you."
Wang Yan nodded. Calmly, he stepped forward, seated himself before the beast, and closed his eyes. The others moved instinctively, spreading out to guard the perimeter, eyes scanning the forest.
He reached out with his Spirit power. Slowly, the purple soul ring trembled… then began its descent toward him.
End of Chapter .