"No... this can't be happening!"
Brandon Drake's expression was twisted with disbelief as his voice cracked, he desperately shouted. "There's no way! A mere clan that relied on their ancestor to stake a foothold in Blazecity… how can they have this many Core Break experts? This is impossible completely impossible!"
His eyes were bloodshot. His breath hitched as he tried to process what he was seeing.
"You must've taken some kind of forbidden pills to fake Core Break strength, right? That's it—right?!"
Compared to the stunned crowd around them, Brandon the patriarch of the Drake Clan had already slipped into full-blown denial.
Because if this was true…
Then everything he planned toppling the Leonhart Clan, subjugating the Storm Clan, and ruling over Blazecity would collapse into dust.
He couldn't accept that.
But Leon only gave a calm chuckle and sneered at his face. "If that's what helps you sleep at night, believe whatever you like."
Then his tone hardened and he gave the command.
"Charge."
The moment the order left his mouth, Leon didn't hesitate and rushed forward at full speed.
His foot cracked the pavement as he exploded forward, robes flaring behind him, blood aura rolling like a crimson tide. With a single step, he crossed dozens of meters, the ground crumbling beneath his advance.
Behind him, five Core Break elders surged into motion, their own blood essence igniting as battle cries echoed through the ruined street.
In this world the cultivators could fight in their full strength only by using their Blood essence which may make it difficult for future cultivation. But now everyone was using Blood essence energy from the start which showed how serious they were.
"Crushing Fist!"
"Unity Palm!"
"Flowing Blade Technique!"
"Mountain Splitting Claw!"
"Echo Flame Lance!"
Each elder unleashed their signature techniques in perfect synchrony, honed through years of life-and-death training. Their auras roared like beasts scarlet waves of blood-forged energy weaving into a cascade of destruction.
The sky above seemed to warp and ripple as wind pressure exploded in every direction.
Crimson fists as large as ox-carts burst forth, palms carved the air like falling meteors, sword-light danced in arcs of silver, and lances of flickering flame pierced forward with eerie shrieks.
From a distance, it looked like a tide of elemental wrath crashing toward the Drake forces.
Brandon Drake's pupils constricted. Even with years of combat experience, the sheer coordination and pressure made his breath catch.
"Tch... Prepare yourselves!"
"Storm Edge Slash!"
"Gale-Howl Palm!"
"Venom Wave Spear!"
Drake Clan cultivators answered in kind.
Brandon roared, his saber splitting from its sheath with a crack of thunder. Wind surged around him, rippling with force as his saber technique summoned a vortex of slicing gales.
Beside him, two other Core Break elders lifted their weapons—one with a jagged green spear, another with glowing gauntlets etched in storm patterns. They shouted their battle cries as their attacks spiraled to meet the incoming barrage.
Then they clashed.
⚡💥 BOOOOOOM!! 💥⚡
The very air cracked apart. It wasn't just sound it was a shockwave that ruptured the ground and blasted out in a sphere of raw force.
The street between both clans exploded in a column of debris and dust. Jagged stone slabs shattered like glass. Buildings trembled, and market stalls were torn apart like paper caught in a storm.
A hurricane of blood-essence and elemental force swept across the battlefield.
Flames clashed against gales, blades shattered in midair, fists collided with palms, and the resulting shockwaves cracked the foundation of the city itself. Several structures nearby crumbled into rubble.
Even cultivators at the Bone and Muscle stages nearby were thrown off their feet, coughing blood from the aftershock alone.
Only the most seasoned among the neutral spectators reacted in time as seven or eight rogue cultivators conjured spirit barriers or threw down talismans to contain the ripples.
If they hadn't, at least 5 blocks of Blazecity would've been reduced to ruins in moments.
From the swirling chaos, Leon shot forward like a spear of light, directly toward Brandon.
Their gazes locked mid-air.
Meanwhile…
At the Storm Clan compound, in a dark stone hall lit by fire crystals—
The top elders of the clan stood together in tense silence.
From where they stood, they could just barely sense the reverberations of the clash in the distance. The color had drained from many faces.
"Leonhart and Drake…" the Second Elder muttered. "Both clans revealed deeper strength than we anticipated."
"Our Storm Clan has four Core Break cultivators at most."
He frowned.
"Big brother, do we really want to intervene in this?"
"If the Leonharts have more cards hidden… we could be inviting disaster."
Then his tone dipped lower.
"Perhaps it's time we abandoned our stake in Blazecity and migrated to another region. We could liquidate our holdings, preserve our legacy, and rebuild elsewhere. If we get dragged into this fight… we may not survive."
The suggestion caused a wave of murmuring but also drew immediate backlash.
"What nonsense are you spouting, Second Elder?"
A grim voice echoed across the chamber. It was the Storm Clan's First Elder.
"We're rooted in Blazecity. This is our ancestral land! Do you think other cities will just welcome us? Or let us 'eat from their plate'? Ha! They'll gut us on arrival."
"You think we can thrive in backwater villages? Without core resources, our clan will wither in one generation."
Even the Clan Patriarch, Thomas Storm, gave the Second Elder a cold look.
"To suggest surrender without a fight shameful."
The Second Elder sighed heavily seeing that no one was willing to take his suggestion seriously. He lowered his head and stepped back.
But deep down, his thoughts remained firm.
If the Leonhart and Drake Clans truly escalated their war… it might not matter who won. The Storm Clan could become the ashes left behind.
Especially since the Drakes had the backing of the Skycloud Sect—one of its elders personally took Gavin Drake as his disciple.
But the Storm Clan? They didn't have any such protections.
He clenched his fists.
I won't let our clan walk blindly into the abyss.
—
Back in the hall, the discussion returned to strategy.
"Patriarch," one elder asked cautiously, "shall we intervene on the Drakes' behalf now?"
Several gazes turned to Thomas Storm.
The battlefield was still evenly matched—six Core Break experts from the Leonharts, five from the Drakes.
It wouldn't take much to tip the balance.
But doing so would mean making an enemy of the Leonharts.
And even if they looked slightly stronger now, what if the Leonhart Ancestor Leo was still alive?
His reputation alone was enough to haunt their thoughts.
After several tense seconds, Thomas finally spoke.
"No."
"Stick to the original plan. Do not interfere unless absolutely necessary."
"The Leonhart Ancestor…" he exhaled slowly. "Unless we have confirmed his death with our own eyes we don't make a move."
Silence followed.
Each man in that chamber remembered the last time they saw Leo in action.
Back then, he was only Core Break Stage—Level 7.
Yet he single-handedly forced the Drake and Storm Clans to yield. The battle was so one-sided that it had seared itself into their bones.
The man didn't just defeat them. He humiliated them.
Even now, the mere thought of facing him again stirred cold sweat down their spines.
—
Meanwhile, back at the battlefield...
Hours passed.
The sun dipped low in the sky.
By this point, most of the lesser fighters had long retreated from exhaustion. Core Break cultivators could battle for days without pause but those at lower realms couldn't sustain the pace.
Only the strongest remained locked in combat blood clashing with blood, wills crashing like storms.
And all of Blazecity trembled under the weight of war.