Two weeks later, atop a secluded peak near the tranquil Peace Town of Jia Nan Academy, fleeting silhouettes occasionally flickered through the dense forest below. At the summit, a sea of figures stood motionless, their gazes fixed upon eight individuals positioned at the cliff's edge, braving the howling winds.
The eight figures remained silent, their forms unmoving as the fierce gale battered against them. Yet, not a single one faltered. The faint yet oppressive aura emanating from their presence enveloped the mountain peak, plunging it into an eerie silence.
At the center of the eight stood a young boy. His long, flowing hair, tied in an intricate knot, shimmered faintly under the dim light. Draped in a billowing black robe, he exuded an aura of calm authority as the wind played with his garments.
With his eyes closed and hands clasped behind his back, the boy seemed lost in thought. After a long moment, his eyelids trembled slightly before opening. His voice, soft yet imbued with an undeniable power, broke the stillness:
"It seems everyone has arrived. The time has come—let us proceed."
Though spoken gently, his words carried a weight that reverberated throughout the forest. The figures beside him nodded solemnly, their gazes sweeping over the vast assembly gathered behind them, an unspoken resolve igniting in their eyes.
Xiao Hua rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping over the multitude of figures before him. Each of them radiated a fierce fighting spirit, their eyes burning with resolve. This secret gathering, hidden from the prying eyes of the Outer Academy of Jia Nan Academy, had been meticulously planned, ensuring only the most determined stood here.
Taking a deep breath, Xiao Hua clasped his hands behind his back. His voice, soft yet imbued with commanding authority, resonated across the mountain peak, reaching every ear with clarity.
"All of you standing here are aware of why we gathered in such secrecy. The Demon Flame Valley's atrocities cannot be ignored. Their hands are stained with the blood of countless innocents, and among the fallen are our own seniors and juniors from Jia Nan Academy."
His voice sharpened, carrying the weight of grief and fury. "Today, we assemble not for personal vengeance, but to rescue our fellow students from the clutches of these vile fiends! We will show the Demon Flame Valley—and the entire Black-Corner Region—that Jia Nan Academy does not remain silent while our kin are slaughtered!"
The crowd stirred, their fighting intent surging like a tide. The mention of the massacre sent a ripple of anger and sorrow through them. When news of the Demon Flame Valley's brutal slaughter of an entire city reached the region, even the ruthless Black-Corner Region was shocked. Yet, for the students of Jia Nan Academy, the pain was far deeper.
Among the dead were their peers—their seniors who had shielded their juniors with their lives, and their juniors, cut down mercilessly before their protectors' eyes. These tragedies had left wounds that could not heal, forging a hatred that burned in their hearts.
Xiao Hua's voice grew colder, a sharp edge lacing his words. "The Demon Flame Valley's cowardice is no less despicable than their cruelty. They leave none alive, yet flee the moment our Academy's elders arrive. But this time, we will be the ones to act. We will bring retribution upon them for every life they have taken!"
As his words echoed across the peak, the gathered students clenched their fists, their blood boiling with determination. Today, they would fight not just for vengeance, but to reclaim their dignity and protect the honor of Jia Nan Academy.
Initially, when the First Elder issued a warning against seeking revenge, a wave of disappointment swept through the students. Yet, they held their resentment in check, understanding the grave consequences of acting rashly. An attack on the Demon Flame Valley would undoubtedly lead to immense casualties, with countless lives sacrificed in the chaos.
Moreover, they knew that launching such a campaign would inevitably draw the attention of the other factions in the Black-Corner Region. Those lurking forces would undoubtedly wait like vultures, ready to strike at whoever emerged battered from the conflict. In such a scenario, the First Elder's decision to adopt a passive stance, despite the fury boiling in their hearts, was a choice of necessity.
However, the moment word spread that the First Elder had reversed his stance—officially sanctioning the campaign and entrusting its command to the Chaos Gate—a tidal wave of fighting intent erupted from the gathered students.
Their once-contained bloodlust surged forth, chilling and unrelenting, igniting their souls with the desire for retribution!
Even though Chaos Gate was a newly established faction within the Inner Academy, no one doubted their capability. As members of the Inner Academy, they were well aware of the extraordinary feats achieved by Chaos Gate's founders, who had recently broken through to the esteemed Dou Wang class.
Rumors of Xiao Hua's exploits further fueled their conviction. It was said that he had faced none other than the Old Ground Demon Ghost, a genuine Dou Zong elite, and emerged victorious.
Though some found it difficult to believe that a Dou Wang could slay such a powerful foe, the mere fact that Xiao Hua had survived such a confrontation was proof enough of his strength. To the students, this demonstrated not only his qualifications to lead the campaign but also the hope that they could succeed under his command.
"Everyone here should already be well aware of the story from beginning to end," Xiao Hua began, his deep voice steady and filled with authority.
"I will not waste time with unnecessary words. The enmity between Jia Nan Academy and the Demon Flame Valley is one carved in blood. Therefore, let me be clear—there will be no peaceful resolution today. Prepare yourselves for what lies ahead."
As his words echoed, the gathered crowd erupted with renewed fighting intent, their voices ringing out in unison, "Yes, sir!"
Xun Er stepped forward, her eyes shimmering with resolve. Her voice carried an unyielding determination as she called out, "Brother Xiao Hua, we are all ready to move!"
Xiao Hua gave a firm nod before turning to face the scene behind him. Ten massive Flying Boats hovered silently, their imposing frames waiting like silent beasts eager to carry their warriors to battle.
"There's no need to delay any further," he commanded with a wave of his hand. "Let's move out."
At his signal, the crowd surged forward, leaping onto the Flying Boats in unison. Their movements were sharp, their bodies exuding an overwhelming fighting spirit that filled the air.
Xiao Hua watched for a moment, his expression calm yet sharp, before stepping forward. With a light, graceful motion, he leaped onto the lead Flying Boat, his black robe fluttering like a shadow under the skies.
"Set course," he ordered, his voice cold and resolute. "Let us go."
The Flying Boats shuddered as they turned, their immense forms slicing through the air. With a thunderous roar, they soared into the sky, heading straight toward their target. A faint, chilling killing intent rippled outward from the fleet, heralding the wrath that was about to descend upon the Demon Flame Valley.
———|
The Demon Flame Valley was located in the northern reaches of the Black-Corner Region, nestled within a vast mountain range. This colossal valley, sprawling as wide as a city, was home to a bustling population.
The majority of its inhabitants were external members, individuals who formed the outer circle of the faction. Only a select few—those who demonstrated exceptional skill and potential—were granted the privilege of joining the Inner Valley. These elites represented a mere ten percent of the external members, but their presence ensured that the Demon Flame Valley remained a formidable power within the Black-Corner Region.
For years, the Demon Flame Valley thrived. Its influence expanded, and its name carried weight, feared and respected in equal measure. The primary reason for this unchallenged dominance was none other than the Old Ground Demon Ghost. As a seven-star elite Dou Zong, his mere presence was a pillar of strength for the faction, granting them the power to stand against the countless forces vying for supremacy in the Black-Corner Region.
However, their era of unbridled glory came to an abrupt and devastating end.
Xiao Hua—an unforeseen storm—emerged, shattering the very foundation of their strength. The fall of the Old Ground Demon Ghost under Xiao Hua's hands sent shockwaves throughout the region. News of the once-mighty Dou Zong's demise spread like wildfire, shaking the very core of the Demon Flame Valley.
In the months following the incident, the once-arrogant Demon Flame Valley withdrew into the shadows, its influence diminished. Their once-overbearing demeanor faded, replaced by cautious restraint. Though they still had a handful of strong experts, their power paled in comparison to what they had lost.
An elite Dou Zong was not merely a powerhouse—it was a symbol of authority, a force that could tilt the balance of power. Without such a figure at its helm, the Demon Flame Valley found itself vulnerable, its former prestige reduced to a fragile memory.
After the news of the Old Ground Demon Ghost's fall spread throughout the Black-Corner Region, the Demon Flame Valley found itself struggling to stabilize its precarious situation. Without the strength to back their once-unyielding arrogance, their unrestrained movements were severely curtailed.
Yet, even a dying camel remains larger than a horse. Despite their decline, the Demon Flame Valley's deep foundations and lingering strength ensured they remained a force to be reckoned with.
However, their response to this turmoil was both unexpected and alarming. Instead of retreating into caution, the Demon Flame Valley launched a brutal campaign of massacres, razing countless cities to the ground. The bloodshed they unleashed shocked even the ruthless factions of the Black-Corner Region.
What was even more troubling was the apparent rise in the Demon Flame Valley's strength. Their First Elder, Fang Yan, had recently advanced to a two-star Dou Zong—a development that sent waves of disbelief across the region.
It was widely known that Fang Yan had only recently broken through to the nine-star Dou Huang. Experts had predicted it would take him several years, if not longer, to step into the Dou Zong class. Yet, not only had he achieved that milestone in a fraction of the expected time, but he had also leapt directly to a two-star Dou Zong.
Such a rapid advancement was unheard of, and its implications were deeply unsettling. This breakthrough could only mean one thing: the Demon Flame Valley had found a new backer—one whose power far surpassed even the Old Ground Demon Ghost.
The revelation sent a chill through the Black-Corner Region. The possibility of such a powerful supporter not only explained the sudden resurgence of the Demon Flame Valley but also hinted at a greater, more dangerous force lurking in the shadows.
———|
The vast mountain valley stretched out like a scar carved into the mountain range, its jagged cliffs lined with deep-black rocks that shimmered faintly with a golden luster. These were 'Black Metal Rocks', a rare and incredibly resilient material. Even an elite Dou Wang would struggle to shatter them, a testament to their hardness and value.
The valley itself seemed to rest atop an extensive mineral vein, its natural defenses further fortified by this invaluable resource. Nestled within this rugged terrain lay the headquarters of the Demon Flame Valley, a stronghold exuding a forbidding aura.
At the valley's deepest point stood an enormous hall, hewn into the mountain itself. The structure's design exuded power and permanence, with the very walls imbued with the cold sheen of Black Metal Rocks.
This imposing hall had been constructed after Fang Yan's ascension to the Dou Zong class, ostensibly as a gesture of respect for the mysterious esteemed guest who had become the shadowy pillar of the Demon Flame Valley.
Within the hall, the atmosphere was heavy and solemn. A group of ten or so figures stood on either side, their postures rigid and deferential. Their gazes were fixed respectfully on the throne at the far end of the chamber—a grand seat carved entirely from Black Metal Rocks.
"Elders, have the preparations for the esteemed guest been completed?"
A cold, commanding voice echoed through the grand hall. On the imposing rocky throne sat a red-haired old man, his simple attire belying the oppressive aura he exuded. His piercing gaze swept over the group of elders assembled before him, each standing with heads slightly bowed, their demeanor a mixture of respect and unease.
Had Ming Cheng been present, he would have recognized this man instantly. The red-haired elder was none other than the one who had forced him into a desperate corner, compelling him to use the life-saving seed gifted to him by Xue Yue.
This man was Fang Yan, the former First Elder of the Demon Flame Valley, now its Valley Master!
Fang Yan's fiery eyes narrowed as he observed the elders. "Speak," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Is everything in place? The esteemed guest will not tolerate incompetence."
"Yes, Valley Master!"
The elders replied in unison, bowing deeply in respect. Each elder exuded a formidable aura, a testament to their extraordinary strength and the power they wielded as key figures of the Demon Flame Valley.
One elder stepped forward, his tone cautious yet respectful. "Valley Master, we have successfully gathered one hundred and fifty souls in the last massacre."
Fang Yan's fiery eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he nodded. "Good," he said, his voice cold and deliberate. "Ensure that the esteemed guest is treated with the utmost reverence—more than even our founder deserved."
A sudden chill crept into his gaze as his lips curled into a frosty smirk. "And remember this," he continued, his tone sharp as a blade, "if the esteemed guest deems our offering insufficient, I will personally sacrifice every one of you to appease him. Do I make myself clear?"
"Understood, Valley Master!"
The elders' response was immediate, though the icy edge in Fang Yan's words sent a shiver down their spines. They exchanged uneasy glances, fully aware of the Valley Master's ruthless nature.
Fang Yan's threat was no mere bluff; if sacrificing them would improve the esteemed guest's mood, he would not hesitate for even a moment.
Fang Yan nodded slightly, though the weight of his gaze bore down on the elder like a hammer. "Good," he said, his voice low but brimming with authority. "Our survival depends on this guest's satisfaction. Do not fail me—or the valley."
His words hung heavy in the air, a reminder that the Demon Flame Valley's newfound strength came at a price—a price Fang Yan was willing to pay, no matter how steep.
When news of the Old Ground Demon Ghost's death first spread, the Demon Flame Valley publicly dismissed it as a baseless rumor, treating it as nothing more than a joke. Yet, in reality, they were the first to learn of their founder's demise.
The valley's elders possessed a jade token, an artifact that indicated the status of the Old Ground Demon Ghost. If the token shattered, it was a sign that their founder had fallen. Unfortunately, that was precisely what happened. Fang Yan and the other elders rushed to check the token, their worst fears confirmed as it lay shattered—proof of their founder's death.
In the wake of this grim revelation, Fang Yan immediately convened a meeting. The air was thick with tension as the elders debated their next move. Just as the discussion reached a boiling point, a dark, swirling smoke materialized in the center of the hall. From it, a voice, cold and otherworldly, made them an offer.
In exchange for increased strength, the voice proposed they collect souls and give it to him.
After reluctantly accepting the deal, the Demon Flame Valley's elders carried out the first of many massacres. They silently descended upon a city, slaughtering its inhabitants and collecting their souls.
To their astonishment, the power promised by the esteemed guest became undeniably real. They could feel their strength increased, their cultivation advancing in ways they had never thought possible.
Elated by the newfound power, they became like mindless puppets, driven by an insatiable thirst for more. City after city fell under their brutal onslaught, their dark deeds spreading like wildfire across the land.
Fang Yan and the other elders believed the day would unfold like any other. They had grown accustomed to waiting in silence, awaiting the arrival of their esteemed guest. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Little did they know, the price they had paid for this power would soon come to collect, and their reckoning was fast approaching.
Boom!
The tightly shut doors of the grand hall were suddenly flung open with a deafening crash, startling the elders within. A panic-stricken disciple stumbled in, his robes in disarray and his face pale with fear.
Fang Yan's eyes narrowed dangerously as his gaze locked onto the intruder. His tone was sharp and cold, laced with displeasure. "What is the meaning of this? What has happened that warrants interrupting this meeting?"
The disciple, trembling, hurried to the center of the hall, stopping just behind the gathered elders. Dropping to his knees, he cupped his hands in a gesture of utmost respect, his expression grave.
"Valley Master, Elders," he began, his voice shaky but urgent, "the Jia Nan Academy has launched an attack! They've broken through the outer defenses and are swiftly advancing toward the main valley!"
His words caused a ripple of shock to spread through the hall. The elders exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions darkening.
The disciple continued, his voice dropping further as if the weight of his news were too heavy to bear. "Some of the outer disciples reported seeing over ten elders from Jia Nan Academy leading the charge. And... the one at the forefront is none other than the Jia Nan Academy's First Elder!"
"What?!"
Cries of disbelief erupted across the grand hall, the tension climbing rapidly.
"How is this possible?!" one elder exclaimed, his voice sharp with shock.
"Su Qian is not one to act impulsively! Doesn't he realize this could leave the Jia Nan Academy vulnerable to the vultures circling them?" another elder questioned, his tone filled with disbelief.
"I never thought that old relic would act so decisively!" a third elder muttered, his expression a mix of frustration and unease.
The hall trembled with the heated voices of the elders, the weight of the news throwing the room into chaos. They had grown complacent, confident that Jia Nan Academy's typically cautious nature would buy them time.
After all, countless students from the academy had perished at the hands of the Demon Flame Valley, but retaliation had always been delayed—tempered by the academy's concerns over the opportunistic forces lurking within the Black-Corner Region.
But this... this was different.
If Su Qian himself was leading the charge, it meant only one thing: Jia Nan Academy had resolved to settle this enmity, no matter the cost. It was no longer a matter of revenge; it was a declaration of war.
"Their First Elder's presence can only mean one thing," Fang Yan spoke coldly, his voice slicing through the noisy hall like a blade. "Jia Nan Academy is prepared to fight us to the bitter end. And if that's the case..."
His gaze swept over the trembling disciple and the elders, his expression turning fierce. "We will not let them take us down so easily. Prepare for battle!"
Fang Yan's expression grew as dark as a stormy sky. Rising from the imposing rocky throne, he emanated an intense and cold aura. His voice, laced with frosty determination, resounded throughout the hall.
"Since they dare bring war to our doorstep, then we shall deliver it to them in full!"
As he stood, a powerful surge of Dou Qi erupted from his body, rippling through the hall like a tidal wave. The fierce energy silenced the lingering commotion, forcing even the most restless of the elders to straighten their backs under its pressure.
Fang Yan's sharp eyes swept over the room, and a flicker of satisfaction crossed his face as he saw the elders regaining their composure.
Despite knowing that his authority as Valley Master was largely symbolic, their willingness to rally under his command showed their acknowledgment of his leadership in this critical moment.
He raised his voice, the force of his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Elders, follow me! Let us test whether Jia Nan Academy's arrogance holds any weight within our mountain!"
Without waiting for a reply, Fang Yan's figure blurred, vanishing from the hall in an instant.
"Yes, Valley Master!"
The elders responded in unison, their voices echoing through the grand hall. As bright-red Dou Qi wings manifested on their backs, they leaped into the air.
With a sharp gust of wind, their figures turned into streaks of crimson, shooting out of the hall like blazing meteors, rushing toward the battlefield where the clash between the Demon Flame Valley and Jia Nan Academy was about to erupt.
......
Fang Yan and the elders emerged at the entrance of their stronghold, their figures bathed in the eerie light of the valley. Their sharp gazes locked onto the scene before them—ten massive Flying Boats hovering in formation, their menacing silhouettes cutting through the misty air.
Fang Yan's eyes narrowed, a chilling glint flickering as his gaze fell upon Su Qian standing at the forefront of the fleet. The First Elder of Jia Nan Academy exuded an imposing aura, his expression as cold as the edge of a blade. Yet, what caught Fang Yan and the elders slightly off guard was the figure seated at the center of the Flying Boats.
A young boy, draped in black robes, sat calmly with his eyes closed, exuding an air of utter tranquility. His presence was oddly commanding, yet they dismissed it as mere theatrics. Surely, no campaign of this scale would place such a young individual in command.
As Fang Yan prepared to speak, intending to mock their audacity, the boy suddenly opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp, like a predator sizing up its prey. Standing up with deliberate grace, he stepped forward to the edge of the Flying Boat, his lips curving into a cold smile.
"This is our first meeting, is it not?" the boy's voice rang out, clear and resonant, carrying an undeniable authority.
Fang Yan froze momentarily, startled. He had not expected the boy to address him directly, bypassing Su Qian entirely. Ordinarily, such confrontations began with the most senior figure taking the lead, yet here, the elder Su Qian stood silently, his expression unreadable, making no move to interject.
Fang Yan's gaze flicked toward Su Qian, searching for a sign of displeasure or contradiction. To his astonishment, the old man appeared utterly unbothered, as though this arrangement were natural, even proper.
Realization struck Fang Yan like a thunderbolt. The true leader of this campaign—the mastermind orchestrating this bold strike—was not Su Qian, but the boy standing before him.
"...Who are you?" Fang Yan asked, his voice laced with a trace of unease. Despite his overwhelming strength, something about the young boy before him set his instincts on edge—a subtle, intangible sense of danger.
"Xiao Hua," the boy replied casually, stepping forward with an air of complete confidence. "Leader of this campaign. I've heard that over the past three months, you've been searching for me so desperately. I must say, your enthusiasm is quite touching." A faint grin played on his lips, his tone brimming with amusement, as though mocking Fang Yan's desperation.
"Searching for you...?" Fang Yan's brows furrowed in confusion. But as his mind worked through the implications of those words, a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.
His Dou Qi surged violently, a furious aura exploding outward as his eyes locked onto Xiao Hua, now filled with venomous hatred. His voice roared with such force that the very air trembled, echoing through the valley.
"It's you! You're the one who killed our founder!"
The outburst shook the elders of the Demon Flame Valley. Their faces darkened further as the weight of Fang Yan's accusation settled in. Their gazes turned venomous, each pair of eyes burning with an intense fury as they bore down on Xiao Hua, their hatred palpable.
"What despicable tactics did you use to slay the Old Ground Demon Ghost?" Fang Yan bellowed, his voice laced with anguish and rage. "And where is the body of our founder?!"
The oppressive atmosphere grew thicker as the elders' bloodlust surged, their Dou Qi flaring in unison. Their murderous intent poured forth, creating a storm of hostility aimed squarely at Xiao Hua. It was as though their combined fury could tear him apart on the spot.
Yet, the young boy simply stood there, unshaken. His grin widened, and his eyes gleamed with a cold, almost playful light.
"If we're talking about despicable tactics, Elder Fang Yan," Xiao Hua's grin deepened, his tone light yet sharp with mockery, "I don't believe you're in any position to lecture me."
Fang Yan's expression darkened, but Xiao Hua ignored it, shifting his thoughts momentarily. Fang Yan's unusual curiosity about the Old Ground Demon Ghost's body lingered in his mind, but he brushed it aside for now, choosing to focus on the pressing matter at hand.
In truth, Xiao Hua couldn't completely refute the accusation. The death of the Old Ground Demon Ghost had indeed involved a "despicable tactic," albeit unintentionally. It was Xue Yue who had delivered the killing blow, a fact that still left him both amused and exasperated. Could it even be called a tactic when he hadn't anticipated it?
His expression turned icy, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "You have massacred countless cities, slaying the innocent and the guilty alike. And among them were the students of Jia Nan Academy—our fellow brothers and sisters. Yet, when the elders of the academy arrived, you cowards ran with your tails between your legs."
Xiao Hua's gaze bore into Fang Yan, his words filled with quiet menace. "Your actions weren't merely to flaunt your so-called strength, were they?"
He paused, his tone growing even colder as his piercing eyes locked onto Fang Yan's. "Where is he? The Protector from the Hall of Souls. The one pulling your strings. Don't tell me you've been doing this madness for yourselves."
The weight of his accusation hung heavy in the air, a challenge Fang Yan could neither deny nor dismiss. The Demon Flame Valley's elders exchanged uneasy glances, their rising Dou Qi betraying their agitation.
Fang Yan's eyes narrowed coldly as Xiao Hua's voice echoed in the air. He had never anticipated they would uncover the true motive behind the attack. Even more unexpected was Jia Nan Academy's swift discovery of their ties to the Protector from the Hall of Souls.
'How could they have figured it out? Even if the scouts witnessed something unusual, how could they link it to the mysterious methods of the Hall of Souls?'
The massacre had been a deliberate smokescreen to conceal their real intent—harvesting souls. Afterward, they would burn the bodies or drain the blood, erasing all traces that could hint at any connection to the Hall of Souls.
The chaos they sowed was meant to spark the fury of other forces, igniting a larger conflict. In the ensuing chaos, more souls could be gathered for the Protector, further increasing their power.
'Reports said the attempt to destroy the students' body from the Jia Nan Academy have failed. But to think they would uncover the truth from that and so quickly at that...'
Fang Yan's gaze locked onto Xiao Hua. The boy's confident demeanor and piercing eyes seemed to mock him, striking at his composure. For the first time, a sliver of doubt crept into Fang Yan's mind. This child was far more dangerous than he had anticipated.
What Fang Yan didn't know was that Jia Nan Academy harbored three high-tier alchemists: Xiao Hua, Wei Jie, and Mei Ling. Although Xiao Hua hadn't personally examined the bodies, the abilities of Wei Jie and Mei Ling were not far beneath his own.
Wei Jie and Mei Ling, both tier-seven alchemists taught under Lady Azure, possessed Spiritual Perception of extraordinary depth and sharpness. Their mastery over Spiritual Strength made it effortless for them to detect even the faintest irregularities.
When examining the bodies of the retrieved students, they sensed the absence of spiritual essence—evidence far beyond a mere shattered spiritual body. Their profound perception unearthed the strangeness lingering in the bodies, linking the atrocities to the Hall of Souls.
Fang Yan's voice rang out, laced with bone-chilling bloodlust. "Before you dream of seeking that one, what makes you think you can leave here alive?"
Dou Qi erupted from his body in a powerful surge, spreading in all directions like a raging storm.
'So what if you've discovered our ties to the Hall of Souls? Once you're in my grasp, I'll make you experience a fate worse than death—even if you're just a child!'
With a single step forward, Fang Yan vanished, his body disappearing into thin air. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared mere steps from Xiao Hua. His five fingers contorted into a talon-like claw as he struck, aiming to seize Xiao Hua's neck.
However, when his gaze shifted to Xiao Hua, unease began to creep into his heart. Xiao Hua stood unmoving, his expression unchanging, with a faint, relaxed smile playing on his lips as if mocking Fang Yan's efforts.
The closer Fang Yan's claw came to Xiao Hua's neck, the more unsettling the boy's calm demeanor felt. Just as his fingers were about to make contact, a flash of bright purple-colored lightning streaked through the air, accompanied by an ear-piercing crack. In the blink of an eye, a terrifying fist appeared, hurtling toward Fang Yan's face with overwhelming force.
"Tch!" Fang Yan clicked his tongue, swiftly retracting his hand. Without hesitation, he raised his arms, crossing them defensively to block the incoming strike.
Boom!
A deep, resonant sound reverberated through the battlefield as Fang Yan's body was sent hurtling backward, skidding over a dozen meters before coming to a halt.
"Valley Master!" the elders cried out in unison, their voices heavy with alarm. Their eyes reflected shock as they watched Fang Yan, the once-dominant figure, forced into retreat. Without delay, they rushed to his side, checking his condition with urgent concern.
"I'm fine," Fang Yan said, though his voice carried a trace of bitterness. His expression darkened, a mixture of frustration and humiliation washing over him. Never in his wildest imagination had he thought he would be forced to retreat in such a disgraceful manner—especially after reaching the Dou Zong realm.
"Who?!" His head snapped up, eyes blazing with hatred as he fixed his glare on the figure standing protectively in front of Xiao Hua. It wasn't Su Qian; that much was clear. Su Qian's Dou Qi is an Earth-affinity, but the strike just now was something entirely different.
"It's been three months, Fang Yan. Don't tell me you've already forgotten me, who nearly killed you?" a cold voice rang out.
The speaker stepped forward, his tone laced with killing intent that sent a chill through the air. "I'm here to settle the debt you owe me—and Jia Nan Academy!"
Ming Cheng stood tall, his presence exuding a divine aura. A pair of wings, forged from three hues of lightning—gold, azure, and violet—spread majestically behind him. His straight, imposing figure was enveloped in arcs of violet lightning that crackled around him.
"You...!" Fang Yan's eyes widened in shock, a flicker of recognition igniting within them.
Fear stirred deep within his heart as memories of their previous encounter flooded his mind. He could still recall the sheer ferocity of this young man, and the humiliation of nearly losing his life to him.
Although Fang Yan had ultimately managed to suppress Ming Cheng during their last encounter, it had only been possible with the sacrifice of the other elders. Their sacrifice have bought him and the remaining two enough time to unleash the Flame Creation Skill.
Even then, Fang Yan knew deep down that had the fight dragged on any longer, he would have fallen. Despite the apparent stalemate, his defeat would have been inevitable.
Yet now, his newfound strength gave him a flicker of confidence.
"Collecting a debt? Do you even have the capability to do so?" Fang Yan sneered, his voice laced with disdain as he dismissed Ming Cheng's words.
"Whether I'm capable or not, why don't I give you a front-row seat to find out?" Ming Cheng replied, his tone calm yet brimming with confidence.
A domineering aura erupted from Ming Cheng's body, accompanied by fierce flashes of purple lightning crackling around him. The sheer intensity distorted the surrounding space, warping the air with his overwhelming presence.
Without hesitation, Ming Cheng's wings unfurled, and in a burst of power, his figure transformed into an indigo-golden streak of lightning that shot toward Fang Yan with astonishing speed.
"A mere Two-Star Dou Wang dares to challenge a Dou Zong? An ant trying to defy an elephant!" Fang Yan spat coldly. Without missing a beat, he surged forward, his Dou Qi roaring as he charged to meet Ming Cheng head-on.
As the two powerful auras clashed, shockwaves rippled outward in fierce waves, distorting the air with visible energy. From the point of contact, faint web-like cracks spread in all directions, creating a chilling display of power.
Suddenly, a human figure was flung backward, streaking through the air as the cracks expanded. His feet scraped against the void, struggling to stabilize himself, until he was forced to retreat over a dozen meters.
All eyes turned toward him, and a collective gasp swept through the onlookers. The figure forced back was none other than Fang Yan!
A moment of stunned silence hung in the air before countless gazes shifted away from Fang Yan and locked onto the young man opposite him. Ming Cheng stood tall, his expression calm, having only taken two steps back from the clash.
The shock in the crowd's eyes grew even more intense. Except for six people—Xiao Hua, Xun Er, Li Mei, Xin Yu, Mei Ling, and Wei Jie—who watched without surprise, disbelief was etched on every face. Ming Cheng, a mere two-star Dou Wang, had gained the upper hand in a direct collision against Fang Yan, a formidable Dou Zong!
Fang Yan's face darkened with humiliation and rage. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined being forced back by someone from the younger generation, let alone someone two entire classes below him.
Before he could fully recover, Ming Cheng moved. His figure became a streak of indigo-golden lightning as he charged forward.
A domineering glow, laced with crackling sparks of thunder, gathered in Ming Cheng's hand. He thrust his fist forward, a booming sound of thunder echoing with every movement. The air trembled violently as his attack surged forward.
"Thunder Emperor's Fist!"
In response, Fang Yan's Dou Qi surged. A sinister flame, a mix of fiery red and purplish hues, coiled around his hand. The energy condensed, transforming into a devilish claw radiating a menacing aura.
"Fire Devil's Claw!"
The two devastating techniques collided with earth-shattering force. Ming Cheng's lightning-clad fist and Fang Yan's flame-imbued claw met in a brilliant explosion of power. A deafening roar echoed as shockwaves rippled outward, tearing through the space around them. A massive spatial crack split the air, a testament to the sheer ferocity of their clash.
Yet, the two combatants showed no signs of stopping. Their clash intensified as fists and claws blurred into countless afterimages, each strike shaking the air around them with explosive force.
Though Fang Yan was clearly being suppressed, his resilience refused to waver. He fought back with unwavering determination, unwilling to fall without a fight.
However, deep down, he understood the gravity of the situation—Ming Cheng would not stop until one of them met their end here.
It was a battle of life and death, and there was no room for compromise. Either Ming Cheng would fall, or Fang Yan would face his demise. There could be only one outcome, and neither of them would accept anything less.