The Blackwood Valley had descended into a maelstrom of chaotic, brutal warfare. The air was thick with the scent of blood, the roar of enraged beasts, and the shriek of spiritual energy tearing through flesh and stone. In the center of it all, the clash between the two pairs of experts was a cataclysm of its own. Mountainsides crumbled and the river itself boiled as Elder Feng's judgment-laced sword arts met the Syndicate Leader's savage, blood-red saber.
Elder Ma, a roaring embodiment of the earth, charged towards Jin Ao, his every blow a landslide of pure, vengeful power. But as he was about to strike, Jin Ao simply smiled, a cruel, unnatural light in his eyes.
"You think I came here unprepared, old man?" he sneered. He performed a series of strange, twisted hand seals, and a blood-red, demonic tattoo appeared on his forehead. "Forbidden Art: Asura's Blood Offering!"
A wave of terrifying, unstable power erupted from his body. Faint, almost invisible threads of blood-red energy began to rise from the Syndicate assassins fighting below, flowing into Jin Ao and fueling his aura. His cultivation, which should have been at the peak of the Qi Condensation Realm, violently surged, breaking through the barrier and reaching the level of a First Stage Foundation Establishment expert.
"He's using a life-devouring art!" Elder Feng cried out in horror, recognizing the forbidden technique. "He is burning the life force of his own followers to temporarily boost his realm! That is a demonic art of the highest order!"
Elder Ma's face, which had been a mask of righteous fury, now became one of utter disgust. "You are not just a traitor, boy," he roared. "You are an abomination!" His own powerful, earthen aura flared as he engaged the artificially empowered Jin Ao, their battle now a clash of a true, stable foundation against a borrowed, demonic power.
On the main battlefield, the disciples of the Green Mountain Sect, their flank now miraculously secure, had regained their footing. Led by the cold, efficient ice arts of Su Ling, they had formed a stable defensive line and were beginning to push back against the black-robed assassins, their initial fear replaced by a cold, righteous fury.
But the true linchpin of the entire battle, the anchor upon which the sect's hopes rested, was the small, unassuming unit at the base of the waterfall.
Li Yu stood behind the unbreachable wall of his two Guardian Turtles, Aegis and Bastion. The Rank 5 Tyrant Beasts, their minds clouded by Mirage's illusions and their handlers being systematically dismantled by Lirael, crashed against the turtle shells in a wave of mindless fury. A massive, spike-shelled lizard slammed its full weight against Aegis's shell, a blow that would have shattered a small mountain. The black iron shell simply vibrated with a deep, sonorous hum, the force of the impact absorbed and dispersed without leaving so much as a scratch.
"Hold the line!" Brother Kai roared, his hands pressed to the ground. His earthen wall, constantly repaired and reinforced by his steady flow of Qi, became a second, crucial layer of defense, absorbing the shockwaves and preventing the sheer force of the beasts' attacks from overwhelming the disciples fighting nearby.
This unshakeable defense was the anvil. Hu Jian and Lin Tao were the hammers.
"Taste my master's fury!" Hu Jian bellowed, his body a blur of fire and steel. He moved with a reckless, joyful abandon, his flaming saber a whirlwind of destruction among the beast handlers. His raw power, supported by the unwavering shield at his back, allowed him to fight without a shred of fear. He cleaved through a handler's defensive artifact, the man screaming as he was engulfed in flames.
Lin Tao was his opposite, a silent, deadly current. His water whips were a web of control, snaking through the chaos. He did not go for killing blows. He would ensnare a handler's leg, sending them stumbling into the path of a rampaging beast, or wrap a whip around another's throat, cutting off the spiritual energy they needed to command their companion. It was a subtle, insidious, and utterly effective style of combat.
Li Yu was the calm, calculating center of their small storm. His was not a nature born of instinct, but his mind, free from the chaos of direct combat, could see the battlefield with a profound clarity. He stood, his black staff held in a simple, ready stance, his spiritual sense a web that connected him to all of his companions, both human and beast.
He saw a twin-headed swamp hound break past Fury's guard, its jaws aimed at Hu Jian's exposed back. Before Hu Jian even realized the danger, Li Yu was already moving. He did not meet the beast's charge. He simply took one step to the side and used his staff to tap a single, precise point on the ground. A small, almost invisible blade of ice erupted, not to injure the beast, but to freeze a patch of mud directly in its path. The hound's feet slipped, its charge becoming a clumsy, uncontrolled slide. That single, momentary stumble was all Fury needed to intercept, its three draconic heads sinking their fangs into the hound's neck.
He was a controller, a master of the subtle, decisive action that could turn the tide of a battle.
On the wider battlefield, his beasts were an engine of chaos. Mirage, the Phantasmal Octopus, had become the true bane of the Syndicate's beast tamers. A handler would roar a command for his beast to charge, only for the beast to see a terrifying, illusory predator appear before it, causing it to flee in terror. Another handler would find himself trapped in a confusing, misty labyrinth, his senses turned against him, unable to see the battlefield or command his companion.
Lirael, the Naga, was the silent, final judgment. She moved through the battle like a ghost, her every appearance marking the fall of an enemy commander. The Syndicate's beast handlers were the core of their army's strength, and they were being dismantled with a ruthless, surgical precision.
The Tyrant Beasts, their handlers now dead, crippled, or lost in a psychic maze, began to turn on each other in a frenzy of mindless, territorial rage. The Syndicate's greatest weapon had become their greatest liability.
From the center of the main battle, the Syndicate Leader saw it all. He saw his beast army collapsing into chaos, his elite assassins being cut down by the resurgent sect disciples, and his most valuable ally, Jin Ao, struggling against the furious, unrelenting assault of Elder Ma. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to his very bones, that the battle was lost. And he knew the reason.
His eyes, filled with a venomous, disbelieving hatred, locked onto the calm, unassuming boy standing behind the wall of turtles. It was that boy, that single, insignificant-looking disciple, who had single-handedly unraveled his entire army.
"Forget the elders!" he roared, his voice a thunderclap of pure, desperate fury. "KILL THAT BOY! KILL THE BEAST TAMER!"
It was a final, desperate gamble. He abandoned his fight with Elder Feng, taking a deep, bleeding wound on his back from her sword as he did so, and shot towards Li Yu like a blood-red meteor. At the same time, the half-dozen remaining Tyrant Beasts, their primal instincts drawn to their master's furious command, turned from their chaotic infighting and charged towards the small, four-man unit at the base of the waterfall.
"They're coming!" Hu Jian screamed, his face pale as he saw the tide of monstrous flesh and fury hurtling towards them.
"Hold the line!" Brother Kai roared, pouring every last ounce of his spiritual energy into his earthen wall.
Li Yu's expression did not change. He had been waiting for this. This was the final, desperate surge of a dying beast. He looked at the charging monsters, at the descending Foundation Establishment expert, and his mind was a sea of perfect, cold calm.
"Aegis, Bastion," he commanded through his link, "Shell Fortress."
The two massive turtles did not flinch. They slammed their massive bodies together, their shells glowing with a deep, earthy light. They braced their legs, becoming not just two beasts, but a single, living mountain of unbreachable defense.
At the same time, Li Yu raised his hand. His Ninth Stage Qi Condensation foundation, which had been a quiet, deep river, erupted into a raging, abyssal ocean. The full, terrifying might of his true power was unleashed for the first time on this battlefield.
The Syndicate Leader, who had been focused on the boy's beasts, felt the sudden, cataclysmic surge of power, and his face, which had been a mask of fury, was now one of pure, soul-shattering disbelief.
"Ninth… Stage…?" he whispered, his mind unable to process what his senses were telling him. He wouldn't be able to take down a 9th stage quickly after fighting all this time against Elder Feng and taking the attack to his back. He thought his realm was much weaker and surged to quickly get rid of him.
But it was too late. Li Yu's hand, now glowing with a dark, heavy light that seemed to devour the very air around it, came forward in a simple, direct palm strike. He was not aiming at the charging beasts. He was aiming at the very ground beneath them.
He unleashed the final, most powerful seal of his art, the culmination of his entire foundation.
«Abyssal Tide».