The utter, silent annihilation of the Colossal Mud-Titan left a vacuum on the battlefield, a void not just of power, but of sound. The disciples of the Myriad Graves Sect, the beast tamers of the Green Mountain battalion, and the demonic beasts of the tide all stared in a state of profound, terrified awe at the young man who stood, unbowed and seemingly un-winded, in the center of the devastation.
The leader of the Myriad Graves Sect, a Core Formation expert who had seen a thousand battles, looked down from his cliff, his usual scholarly calm completely shattered. His mind struggled to reconcile what he had just witnessed.
That young boy is already in the 7th stage foundation? It was not just the power of a Seventh Stage Foundation Establishment expert; it was the quality of that power. It was heavy, absolute, and carried a conceptual weight that seemed to bend the very laws of the world. It was just for a moment when Li Yu broke through that the sect leader from Myriad Graves sensed it.
Li Yu, however, had no time to savor the moment. He could feel the new, immense power coursing through his veins, a wild, untamed river. He stood amidst the carnage, his breathing even, but his mind was racing. That last attack… the Rod Slam against the Titan's shoulder was precise. But the first one, the Rod Smash… I used far too much force. My control over this new realm is still crude, like a child swinging a sledgehammer. The power is immense, but it is not yet truly mine to command.
He was still adjusting to his increase in power, something a cultivator does over a period of time but time was a luxury he didn't have right now. A battle was going on and power is still coming in from all the beasts with some kind of aquatic bloodline.
The lull in the fighting lasted only a moment. The Beast King, from its distant throne, was a merciless general. With a new, silent command that washed over the horde, the dark line of Rank 3 and Rank 4 beasts that had been surging to fill the Titan's gap did not falter. They simply parted, flowing around the spot where their champion had fallen, and crashed into the defensive lines with a renewed, suicidal fury.
"Hold them!" Li Yu's voice, now imbued with the undeniable authority of his new realm, was a thunderclap that cut through the renewed chaos. "Hu Jian, Lin Tao! Take command of the battalion! Reinforce the Myriad Graves Sect's line! Do not let a single beast pass!"
"Sir Li, what about you?" Hu Jian shouted back, his face a mixture of terror and awe.
"The Central Front is about to break," Li Yu said, his gaze already shifting, his spiritual sense a vast, sweeping net that covered the entire pass. "I am needed there."
He did not wait for a reply. He leaped onto his Silver-Winged Flying Swordfish, which had been circling high above, and shot out of the gorge like a silver comet. His departure left a stunned silence in its wake, but also a new, unshakeable sense of hope. The God of the Gorge, as the Myriad Graves disciples were already beginning to call him in their minds, had turned their hopeless battle into a defensible front.
Li Yu carved a bloody path through the sky, his Star-Iron Rod a blur of motion as he smashed any flying beasts that dared to intercept him. He arrived at the Central Front to a scene of absolute, grinding desperation. The disciples of the Iron Fist Peak were a series of unshakeable, bloody reefs, their bodies battered, their Qi reserves running low, but their fists still rising and falling, shattering beast after beast.
The swordsmen of the Jade Spring Sword Sect, led by a blood-soaked Feng Xuan, were a river of flashing steel, their elegant formations now a desperate, chaotic defense as they were swarmed from all sides.
The second wave of the Beast Tide was being led by a new set of commanders: five Rank 5 Tyrant Beasts. There was a pair of massive, saber-toothed Ice-Fang Tigers, whose roars could freeze the very air, and a trio of colossal, eight-legged Earth-Ripper Scorpions, whose tails were like living siege engines. These five beasts were the generals of this front, their intelligence and power directing the lesser beasts, systematically dismantling the sects' defenses.
Li Yu saw his target. This was the perfect training ground. The Mud-Titan had been a test of his raw power. These five Tyrants would be a test of his control.
"Brother Feng!" he called out as he descended, his voice a calm, clear note in the symphony of war. "Hold the line for a moment longer! I will deal with their commanders!"
He dove, not into the thick of the fray, but towards the nearest of the five Tyrants, one of the Earth-Ripper Scorpions. The massive beast, its attention focused on crushing a group of Iron Fist disciples, sensed his approach and turned, its massive pincers snapping, its tail a blur as it shot a volley of poison-laced stingers at him.
Li Yu, now used to the flow of his new power, did not meet the attack with overwhelming force. He used his «Flowing Water, Still Shadow» art, creating a swirling vortex of water that caught the stingers, neutralizing their poison and their momentum. He then used his «Abyssal Dragon's Shadow», his form a ghostly blur as he appeared directly above the scorpion's massive, chitinous head.
He brought the Star-Iron Rod down in a precise, controlled Rod Slam. He did not pour his entire foundation into the blow. He used just enough force, just enough of his void-aspected Qi, to achieve his goal. The staff struck the scorpion's head, and its thick, armor-like carapace, which had been deflecting the attacks of a dozen cultivators, cracked and imploded, a perfect, fist-sized hole appearing where he had struck. The great beast shuddered and collapsed, its life extinguished in an instant.
It was a clean, efficient, and utterly terrifying kill.
He did not pause. He shot towards the next Tyrant, an Ice-Fang Tiger that was in the process of freezing a group of swordsmen solid. The tiger roared, a wave of absolute, soul-chilling frost erupting from its maw.
Li Yu, in the air, simply spun his staff, the principles of «Flowing Water, Enduring Mountain» manifesting. The staff became the center of a swirling, defensive vortex that caught the frost, not blocking it, but redirecting it, sending the wave of freezing energy harmlessly into a packed group of charging lesser beasts, flash-freezing them in their tracks.
He used the opening to close the distance. He was not just a brute; he was a cultivator, and he was beginning to weave his profound techniques together with his monstrous strength. He appeared before the tiger and engaged it in a deadly, close-quarters battle, his staff a blur of black iron, his every blow a precise, bone-shattering strike.
As he fought, a new, subtle hunt began. His spiritual sense, a constant, sweeping presence, noticed a small, unassuming creature clinging to a blood-soaked, half-submerged log at the edge of the battle. It was a Rank 3 Glimmer-Wing Skitterer, a rare, stealth-type aquatic insect with iridescent, dragonfly-like wings. Its carapace could naturally bend light, making it nearly invisible, and it laid its eggs in water, giving it a strong aquatic connection. It was a perfect scout, a priceless addition to his Swarm.
He waited for his moment. As the Ice-Fang Tiger let out another massive roar of frost, forcing him to leap back, he "accidentally" landed near the log. With a single, hidden thought, a tiny, invisible portal to his sanctuary opened in the blood-soaked water. The skitterer, caught completely by surprise, was silently, completely, and utterly devoured.
He returned his attention to the tiger. After a dozen more precise, powerful blows, he finally found his opening and, with a final, decisive Rod Smash, caved in its skull.
Two Tyrants down. The pressure on the Central Front immediately lessened. The disciples, seeing their monstrous opponents being systematically executed by this single, black-robed figure, let out a great, roaring cheer, their morale surging.
Li Yu moved on to the third, the fourth, and then the final Tyrant. Each battle was a lesson, a chance for him to further refine his control over his new, immense power. He was no longer a child with a sledgehammer. He was becoming a master artisan, each blow a perfect, economical, and utterly lethal expression of his will.
When the last of the five Tyrant commanders fell, the second wave of the Beast Tide, now leaderless, dissolved from a disciplined army into a chaotic, disorganized mob. The sect disciples, their spirits soaring, let out a final, great war cry and charged, beginning the long, bloody process of cleaning up the remnants of the broken wave.
As a fragile, temporary lull fell over the battlefield, the sun began to set, painting the blood-soaked pass in shades of crimson and orange. Li Yu stood on a mountain of beast corpses, his breathing even, his expression calm. He had turned the tide on two fronts, his power now a beacon of hope wherever he went. He looked like he could still fight a thousand battles and in truth he could.
But he felt no joy, no pride. He looked to the west, where the sky was now a deep, bruised purple. The psychic pressure of the Beast King, which had been a distant, background hum, was now intensifying, becoming a palpable, malevolent presence that promised a new, far deadlier phase of the war was about to begin. The third wave, the tide of kings, was coming.
He stood amidst the carnage, his mind a quiet, deep pool as the pressure of the Beast King washed over him. He sank a thread of his consciousness into his sanctuary.
"Khaos," he projected, his thought a calm, analytical query. "That Beast King. Its aura is at the Core Formation Realm. Is it stronger than you?"
A wave of ancient, profound, and utter contempt washed over Li Yu from his own spirit. "Stronger?" Khaos's mental voice was a razor blade of pure, condescending arrogance. "That creature is an insect. A loud, overgrown, and incredibly weak insect."
Li Yu was genuinely surprised. "Weak? But it is a Rank 10 Abyssal Beast. You are also at the early stages of the Core Formation Realm, are you not?"
A feeling of what might have been a sneer echoed in his mind. "You still think in such childish terms, little host. You measure power by realms. It is a crude, inefficient system for categorizing cattle. Tell me, in a battle between a cultivator at the first stage of Core Formation and one at the ninth, who wins?"
"The one at the ninth stage, of course," Li Yu replied, his answer logical and immediate. Even a child could answer that question.
"Wrong," Khaos retorted, its voice a whip-crack of absolute certainty. "The one who wins… is the winner. Realm, techniques, bloodlines… these are just ingredients. It is the will that forges them all together into a weapon that matters. That creature's will is a scattered, chaotic mess of instinct and rage. Mine is a singularity of absolute, silent purpose. It is not my equal. It is my food."
Li Yu was silent. The lesson was a simple one, but it was a truth so profound it shook his very understanding of cultivation. There were too many factors that came to accessing someone's strength and how they used those factors to forge themselves was another factor as well.
Khaos said he was still at early core formation yet referred to the beast king as someone he could destroy with a lift of his claw. The very same beast king the sect leaders were all afraid of even though they outnumbered it and were also at the 1st stage of core formation.
He looked out at the approaching darkness, at the coming tide of kings, and for the first time, he was not just measuring their power. He was formatting a plan, one where he would limit more destruction on his side.