Lord Imperion snarled, veins blazing with violet fire as he slammed both hands into the earth. The valley trembled like a beast in chains. From the fractured ground rose a stunning spectacle—a triple-arched gate wrought of obsidian and jade, its vast pillars engraved with dragon coils and demon sigils. Each arch pulsed with layered seals, a fortress of Demonic Wind lineage that enclosed him, Freyjita, and his gathered troops in a shelter of ancestral might.
"The Triple Arches of Protection!" voices cried in awe. This was no mere shield—it was the Heavenly Demonic Wind Clan's signature divine protection array; a heritage so revered it was said to be taught only to the most powerful heirs of the Forgotten Continent.
The Meteor Fist descended from above—a comet of blood frost fury birthed from my dantian swarm. My copies bellowed in unison, their phantom knuckles dragging auroras through the sky. The collision was apocalyptic.
The first arch shattered instantly, reduced to shards of rune-light. The second buckled, screaming like metal under a god's hammer, fracturing under the force of a mountain falling from heaven. The third flared in defiance, its storm-etched sigils burning so bright they blinded half the battlefield—before it, too, was split down the middle.
Meteor and Gate annihilated one another in a roaring implosion, the shockwave blasting troops from their feet. Felicitys eyes were wide with the raw scope of destruction.
When the dust cleared, Imperion stood within the wreckage, his chest heaving, blood streaming from his arms where the backlash had scored his flesh. His sneer remained, his veins still blazing violet. Imperion staggered forward, his defiance lit in hues of burning storm. But there was a new tightness around the edges—a flicker of recognition that Ash's strikes were not mere bravado, but the caliber of a sovereign challenger.
Gasps tore from the Demonic Wind troops. "The Triple Arches of Protection!" To see it summoned was to behold the living legacy of their forebears. Freyjita's lips parted in shock. Around them, the Demonic Wind army stared in mute disbelief. Their unbreakable heritage, their shield of legends, had been torn down in a single strike. Fear rippled through the ranks like wildfire. For the first time, whispers of "Is he even mortal?" spread among them. And high above, Felicity's flag snapped in the poisoned wind—its bloody azure flames a grim herald of their undoing.
My swarm seethed, my dantian-space roaring like a furnace as I hurled twelve more Meteor Fists down at the already stunned army. They ignited across the heavens. Each one blazed a different hue—emerald, sapphire, crimson, gold—together they burned a constellation of fury overhead. The valley was drenched in their light, shadows flung long across the cliffs as if the sky itself had turned against the Demonic Wind Clan.
Troops fell to their knees, armor rattling.
"He's not human—!"
"We're all going to die!"
Panic surged like a breaking tide. The unshakable discipline of the Demonic Wind Clan fractured, fear written plain across the faces of soldiers who had once marched in lockstep.
"Silence, you fools!" Imperion's roar cracked like thunder. Veins of violet fire blazed across his skin as he slammed both palms to the ground again, the battlefield shook as teleportation nodes flared to life—twin circles of jade and shadow interlinking beneath the army's feet.
"Through the gate!" he barked, and with a sweep of his arms he forced the terrified soldiers into motion. Freyjita cursed under her breath, retreating with them, shielding her face from the growing heat of the falling meteors.
One after another, the Demonic Wind Clan vanished in a storm of collapsing light, shoved through the portal by Imperion's sheer will. He stood as the last, snarling at the comet-rain gathering above him. "This is not the end, Ash of Iron Fang!" His vow tore through the valley—then the gate swallowed him whole.
A heartbeat later, the first Meteor Fist struck, and the valley where the Demonic Wind Clan had stood erupted into an incandescent sea of ruin.
Lord Imperion staggered within the shattered echoes of the valley, the last ripples of the teleportation array still burning under his boots. His chest heaved. His arms bled violet fire where Felicity's cursed Black Flag had scalded him, the wounds stubborn, clinging—eating.
He looked around at his surviving troops as they collapsed on their knees, groaning, clutching at charred flesh where blood-frost fire had sunk deep into their dantians. Even Freyjita, proud Freyjita, gasped under her breath as she peeled scorched armor from her ribs, her aura visibly frayed.
A cold realization struck him harder than Ash's meteors. "Our cultivation… it's been dragged down." His soldiers' cores flickered faint, a full stage dimmer than before. His own—his own—was no longer burning with the same towering flame. His pride turned to acid in his gut.
"The beast… the Blood Beast…" Imperion whispered, trembling fists curling. "It matters less than this...humiliation." His voice cracked the air, raw with fury. He hadn't just lost a weapon. He had been weakened, dragged from sovereign heights down into the mire. And by a boy.
"Healers!" Imperion roared, spittle flying. "Attend me—attend Freyjita—attend all of them! Scour these frost-flames from our marrow before they root deeper!"
His generals scrambled, healers rushing with pills, salves, glowing pearl ocean talismans. But in his heart, Imperion already knew: these wounds were not ones that mere medicine could erase. His mind turned, hard and ruthless, assembling new war plans from the ruins of his pride. He would need to forge his own array, one to counter that cursed Black Flag. Until then, he would bide, plot, and strike when the balance tilted once more.
Meanwhile, back in the jungle valley, the air still hummed with the aftershock of devastation. Felicity descended from the cliff, her silver tendrils flashing as she landed with a graceful arc beside me. Her eyes shone bright with awe and triumph.
"Master, that was devastating!" she laughed, exhilaration bubbling from her chest. "I have no doubt—we can fully win this war now!"
I exhaled slowly, dantian swarm quieting within. My gaze remained steady, my shoulders eased just slightly at her words.
Elder Zhang of the Poison Lotus Clan rushed forward, robes trailing, falling into a deep bow that scraped the dirt. His voice shook with gratitude and relief.
"Thank you for saving us yet again, Lord Ash!"
Behind him, villagers and cultivators alike lifted their heads from hiding, their cheers tentative but growing, filling the ruined valley with a trembling chorus of hope.