"Your attack," he murmured, "would have killed me just now."
The lizard's throat rumbled, low and restless. Lightning crawled unevenly along its limbs, reactive claws digging into the stone. Its breathing tightened.
The cultivator looked down at the faint, lotus-shaped glyph rotating above his palm.
"It would have," he repeated softly, as if tasting the words. "At least seriously injured me—that was only if I had nothing to counter it."
He closed his fist.
The sigil shattered into dust.
And the world dimmed.
Not the sky. Not the courtyard.
The spiritual light dimmed—like a lantern's flame bent by a sudden wind.
The lizard's golden pupils contracted sharply, confusion flaring—
Huh—?
The cultivator raised his gaze.
"There are very few soul-type beasts in this region," he said, voice almost conversational. "Fewer with the ability to directly attack the soul."
He took a single step forward.
The lizard involuntarily growled back.
"But you are quite interesting—more like unnatural—but that's what makes me interested…"
His expression hardened.
"…What kind of creature are you? I've never heard of your kind."
The lizard hissed, wings snapping open—but the air around them had already grown heavy, thick, muted in a way that stole momentum from its movements.
No… Not this again—
"Are you some rare subspecies? A mutated beast? Or something else—an ancient beast," he continued, tone steady. "One that awakens soul arts early, even before its flesh matures."
He lifted his blade.
"Your only true advantage."
The lizard growled harder, lightning crashing across its scales in erratic bursts. Its claws dug into the stone—half a threat, half a brace against the pressure closing in.
The cultivator didn't raise his voice.
"But unfortunately for you, I possess a defensive art against such attacks. And I guess your ability only works when you make eye contact with your target. I realized the moment your eyes met mine—that's when it struck. That might've been quite troublesome, trying to avoid your gaze while attempting to kill you."
His next words slid into the air like a knife slipping under armor.
"But that isn't the case. I don't need to do that—no matter how many times I meet your gaze."
The lizard's breath hitched.
Impossible. It blocked it.
It thought the attack had landed.
It felt the mental snap—the connection, the invisible strike hitting—
The cultivator exhaled once.
And the pressure around them changed.
Qi compressed around him in a perfect ring—tight, refined—like a blade being sharpened on all sides at once.
"Your soul attack," he said, "is useless against me now."
The lizard's muscles coiled. Its wings twitched.
"Huh… what's that? Is it a spiritual art or a spirit—?"
The cultivator vanished.
A shock of instinct ripped up the beast's spine—
Behind—
The air tore.
The glaive came down in a vertical arc.
The lizard whipped around, lightning erupting across its back—
KRAAAAANG!!
The blow struck its scales head-on—hard enough to blast dust into a vortex. The lizard was hurled across the courtyard, smashing through a half-collapsed pillar and carving deep furrows into the earth.
Pain flared along its ribs—hot, biting, wrong.
It staggered up.
The cultivator was already walking toward it.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Utterly calm.
"Without that soul attack of yours," he said, "your level is exactly what it should be."
He raised his glaive again.
"Third-layer."
"Maybe up to the fourth layer at most."
---
{System}
Affirmative. The target is using a high-tier Earth-grade spiritual art—a soul-based technique that forms a soul-lotus sigil activating the moment hostile spiritual intent touches the cultivator.
Nullifies soul-based attacks, illusions, mind invasions, and killing-intent bursts.
Creates a spiritual dimming effect, suppressing an enemy's soul pressure within a certain radius.
Active / Offensive:
Can transform into a "Soul-Petal Severance"—a blade of spiritual force formed from spiritual consciousness that strikes the opponent's consciousness directly.
Ignores physical defense and disrupts or destroys the enemy's soul foundation.
---
"Huh… so the soul attack won't work on it. I won't be able to kill it easily like the others," it thought. "This is going to be hard and dangerous. I need to go all out if I want to kill it."
Lightning burst out, roaring across the lizard's wings as it lunged—fast, desperate, every element it possessed igniting at once.
Wind spiraled into blades.
Lightning cracked into arcs.
Stone erupted into jagged spears.
The cultivator stepped forward.
"You might possess all these elements," he said, "but your attacks are so basic."
His aura expanded in a clean, perfect circle.
"Break."
His glaive moved once.
Just once.
A straight-line cut—almost simple, almost gentle—
It tore through everything.
Wind split into harmless air.
Lightning scattered into fading sparks.
Stone spears shattered mid-flight.
The lizard froze.
Its instincts screamed—Danger—!!
But the glaive was already at its throat.
A thin line of cold steel rested against the scales there—just enough pressure to draw a bead of blood that hissed on contact with the blade.
The cultivator leaned forward slightly.
"As a demon beast for not only daring to step into the city."
His voice darkened.
"For killing the clan elders."
His qi flared like a rising wave.
Lightning flickered wildly across the lizard's body, every muscle tensing, ready to leap—
The blade pressed down another fraction, just enough to silence movement.
The cultivator spoke quietly.
"Your soul attack will not save you."
A pause.
His eyes sharpened.
"But I wonder—"
He tilted his head slightly.
"—how many times you can survive mine?"
The air behind the cultivator trembled.
A second glyph unfolded—larger, sharper, rotating like a wheel of knives.
The lizard's eyes widened in instinctive dread.
That—
That's not defensive.
That's—
The cultivator's aura surged.
"Let us find out."
The glyph ignited.
The world snapped inward toward the lizard's mind—
a spear of spiritual force—
a blade aimed at its soul—
A true soul-severing strike.
And the lizard realized, too late—
It was not the predator anymore.
It might be prey.