The battlefield was soaked in blood. Corpses of bandits littered the ground, the stench of iron and death choking the night air. The cries of injured disciples echoed from the shattered houses of the village, their qi weak but their will unbroken.
At the center of it all stood Iron Wolf Bao. His towering frame was a mountain of killing intent, his curved saber dripping crimson, his eyes glinting with a predator's calm. Opposite him, Yan Mo's chest rose and fell violently. His robes were torn, his hair disheveled, but his aura burned with the sharpness of a newly risen blade.
The breakthrough had come in his moment of despair. Qi Gathering no longer restrained him—his foundation had solidified, surging into the Foundation Establishment Realm. The ground cracked beneath his feet as his qi pulsed outward, yet Bao's mocking laugh cut through the tension like a knife.
"Hahaha!" Bao swung his saber in a lazy arc, the mere gust splitting a broken pillar in half. "So the pup grew fangs at last. A newborn cub roaring at a wolf. Do you think that's enough to challenge me?"
Yan Mo's eyes sharpened. "Enough to bury you."
With a roar, he lunged, his sword flashing in a furious arc. Sparks flew as steel met steel, the clash ringing like thunder. The shockwave of their collision blasted rubble away. Yan Mo pressed forward, his sword raining blows like a storm. Bao, however, did not retreat. Each saber swing came with crushing force, every counter forcing Yan Mo back a half step.
"You're fast!" Bao sneered, their weapons grinding against each other. "But speed without weight is useless!" He twisted his wrist, unleashing a cleaving strike that nearly split Yan Mo's shoulder open.
Yan Mo barely dodged, the saber grazing his robes. His counter was wild, desperate, but filled with stubborn resolve. He fought like a madman, ignoring pain, ignoring the trembling of his arms. Sparks lit the battlefield as their steel shrieked again and again.
Qingyue and Wu Sheng rushed to his side.
"Yan Mo, don't shoulder this alone!" Qingyue's voice was sharp, her sword cutting toward Bao's ribs. Wu Sheng followed with a sweeping halberd strike, qi exploding off the blade like a roaring tiger.
Bao only laughed harder. His saber danced in a wide arc, deflecting Qingyue's sword, smashing Wu Sheng's halberd aside. The rebound force jolted through Wu Sheng's arms, blood spraying from his lips.
Then Bao's saber found its mark.
"Die!" he roared, slamming the flat of his blade across Wu Sheng's chest. Bone cracked, and Wu Sheng was hurled across the square like a ragdoll, blood gushing from all seven orifices. His body skidded into the dirt, motionless.
"WU SHENG!" Zhang Wei's cry tore through the chaos.
Qingyue's heart lurched, but she had no time to mourn—Bao's follow-up slash nearly cleaved her head in two. She twisted, her blade barely deflecting it, but the sheer weight of his strike numbed her arm and sent her stumbling back, blood running from her shoulder.
Yan Mo, fury ignited, threw himself at Bao again. His sword trembled, his strikes lacking precision but overflowing with rage. "BASTARD! I'll kill you!"
Bao's mocking laugh filled the air as steel clashed. "This is all you have? A newly broken-through brat, a half-dead girl, and a tiger cub spitting blood? PATHETIC!"
Their blades sparked in a shower of light, Yan Mo pressing recklessly, Bao countering with ease. Yet despite his laughter, Bao's movements grew sharper—Yan Mo's madness forced him to actually parry instead of swatting away like an insect.
Then—
A flash.
Steel sang, and Bao hissed as a thin line of blood appeared on his neck. His eyes widened, rage flashing across his face.
Everyone froze.
From the shadows stepped Han Yu, his sword gleaming faintly with killing intent. His robes were soaked in bandit blood, his eyes calm and deadly. The lackeys were no more—he had cut through them like weeds.
"Took you long enough," Yan Mo rasped, sweat dripping down his brow.
Han Yu tilted his head, expression unreadable. "You looked like you needed help."
Bao's laugh cracked into a snarl. "So another rat joins the fight. Good! Come, all of you! I'll grind your bones into dust!"
With that, the battle erupted anew.
Han Yu and Yan Mo fought side by side, their swords weaving in deadly harmony. For the first time, Bao was forced backward, his saber ringing as it deflected twin strikes. Qingyue, having swallowed a healing pill, surged back into the fray, her silver sword adding a third rhythm to the assault.
Three blades moved as one. Steel howled, qi collided, rubble exploded under their feet. Bao grunted as a shallow cut appeared on his arm—Qingyue's strike had broken through.
But the wolf was far from tamed.
"ENOUGH!" Bao's roar thundered across the battlefield. His aura surged like a storm, crimson qi spiraling around him. His skin darkened, his muscles bulged, veins blackened like roots crawling under flesh. His eyes glowed faintly red.
The three disciples staggered back in shock.
"This… this aura…" Qingyue's lips trembled.
Han Yu's face twisted in fury. "You're colluding with demons!"
Bao grinned, teeth sharp as fangs. "Colluding? No… I AM their chosen hound!"
With demonic speed, Bao vanished and reappeared behind Han Yu.
"Too slow!"
The saber came down like a mountain. Han Yu barely twisted in time, but the force hurled him across the square, blood spraying from his mouth. Bao didn't stop—he appeared behind Qingyue and Yan Mo next, each strike launching them in opposite directions like broken kites.
The three strongest disciples lay scattered and bloodied.
Despair swept through the Divine Cauldron Sect. The disciples faltered. The villagers wailed. For a moment, it seemed the battle was lost.
But at the edge of the square, Zhang Wei knelt beside Wu Sheng. His hands shook, but the jade pendant's warmth guided him. Threads of emerald light flickered at his fingertips as he pressed them to Wu Sheng's wounds, forcing the bleeding to halt.
"Stay alive," Zhang Wei whispered hoarsely. "Don't die here."
Pan Qiang stumbled beside him, fists clenched, his body trembling not from fear—but from something deeper. He had fought with his fists until now, every blow clumsy, his heart recoiling at the blood on his knuckles. But as Bao's demonic aura pressed down, something inside him cracked.
A pain ripped through his chest. His meridians burned like fire, qi surging wildly. He staggered, then roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield.
Zhang Wei's head snapped up, eyes wide. "Pan Qiang…"
Golden light burst from Pan Qiang's body. His dormant meridians flared open one after another, qi rushing like a river unleashed from a dam. His fists glowed, every breath thundering with newfound power.
Iron Wolf Bao turned, amused by the spectacle. "Oh? Another pup breaking through? Come, then. Let me slaughter you first."
But this time, Pan Qiang did not falter. He planted his feet, fists clenched, golden qi spiraling like twin dragons around his arms. "Zhang Wei, fight with me!"
Zhang Wei rose, his sword gleaming faintly in the moonlight. His jade pendant pulsed, qi flooding into his veins, sharpening his resolve. He took his place at Pan Qiang's side.
Bao sneered. "Two little bugs. Do you really think you can stand against me?"
Pan Qiang's roar shook the ground. "Then come and find out!"
They charged together.
Steel clashed with fists. Bao's saber descended, but Pan Qiang's glowing punch met it head-on. The shockwave split the earth, rubble exploding outward. Zhang Wei slipped into the opening, his sword thrusting like a silver serpent toward Bao's chest. Bao twisted, narrowly deflecting it, but a thin line of blood marked his ribs.
For the first time, Bao's mocking grin faltered.
The battle turned.
Pan Qiang's fists hammered like falling mountains, every strike infused with raw, newly awakened qi. Zhang Wei's sword flowed with precision, cutting every gap Pan Qiang opened. Together, they pressed Bao back, step by step.