Han Sen watched warily as a figure emerged from the dense undergrowth, stumbling towards the murky pool. The young man was a mess – clothes torn and stained, face etched with exhaustion, body crisscrossed with a map of fresh and fading wounds. His state screamed desperation.
"Hey! Friend!" Han Sen called out from his hiding spot in the ferns, keeping his distance. "Careful near the pool! There are Ironjaw Crocs in there!" His warning stemmed partly from self-interest – he had bait out, hoping to lure one – but also genuine concern. This guy, exhausted and bleeding, heading for water? An Ironjaw ambush would be the end of him.
The young man started, then his eyes locked onto Han Sen. Exhaustion vanished, replaced by a predatory gleam. "Where is this place?" he demanded, his voice sharp, imperious. "Which way to Glory Sanctuary?"
"Glory Sanctuary?" Han Sen blinked, his gaze turning wary. "You're in the Tekris Mountains, north of Steelhold Sanctuary. No idea where Glory is."
"Steelhold?" The young man muttered, a flicker of surprise crossing his battered face. "I wandered that far? Into another sanctuary's territory?" He refocused on Han Sen, his tone hardening into command. "Take me there. Now."
Han Sen's brow furrowed. This wasn't a request; it was an order. "Head south," he replied evenly, gesturing. "Keep a steady pace, you'll reach Steelhold before nightfall. I'm hunting, so I'll stay." He turned back towards his cover.
Movement. A blur. Pain exploded between Han Sen's shoulder blades as a fist slammed into his spine. He pitched forward, crashing face-first onto sharp rocks. Warm blood trickled down his temple where stone had split skin.
"What the hell?!" Han Sen scrambled up, clutching his head, fury burning in his eyes as he whirled on the attacker.
"You obey. You don't question. Take me to the sanctuary." The young man's voice was arctic ice, his stance radiating contempt.
"Screw you!" Rage ignited. Han Sen summoned the Bronze Tusk Pike. It flashed in his hand, a lethal extension of his fury, thrusting towards the arrogant stranger like a striking serpent.
"Mandatory schooling's three-stage thrust? Pathetic." The young man sneered, utterly unfazed. He raised a hand, palm rigid as a blade. But it wasn't flesh. It shimmered with an unnatural, internal light, smooth and hard as polished jade. A crystalline artifact. He swung it down, meeting the bronze spearhead.
CRACK!
The Primal-tier Soul Beast weapon shattered like cheap pottery under the jade hand. Han Sen stumbled back, clutching the splintered haft, shock warring with recognition. "Hyper Nuclei Gene Art!"
"Surprised trash has heard of it," the young man – Xue Longyan – mocked, flexing his luminous hand. "Even stripped of my Soul Beasts crossing these damned mountains, crushing you is effortless." He raised the jade blade-hand again. "Final chance. Lead... or die." The threat hung heavy, final.
"Lead this!" Han Sen roared. Golden light erupted around him as the Golden Carapace armor sealed him within its divine protection. He pivoted, channeling all his strength into a vicious spinning kick aimed at Xue Longyan's chest.
"Suicidal fool." Xue Longyan shifted stance, his jade hand blurring from chop to grab. He seized Han Sen's armored ankle mid-kick with impossible speed. A brutal twist sent Han Sen crashing back to the earth. Before he could recover, a knee like a piston drove into his lower back.
"AARGH!" Agony ripped through Han Sen. White fire seared his spine. He felt vertebrae grind.
"Trash remains trash," Xue Longyan hissed, his voice dripping with scorn. He straddled Han Sen, pinning him face-down. His luminous fist rose and fell, a piston of crystalline fury. THUD! THUD! THUD! Each blow hammered Han Sen's helmeted head deeper into the rocky soil. "Even clad in Sacred Blood! You're unworthy! Give me the Soul Beast!"
"Screw your mother!" Blood filled Han Sen's mouth, rage a supernova in his chest. With a guttural scream, he bucked violently, arching his back. His helmeted skull snapped backwards like a battering ram.
CRUNCH!
It connected squarely with Xue Longyan's face. Bone cracked. Blood – bright crimson – sprayed from the arrogant cultivator's shattered nose. Xue Longyan reeled back, clutching his face, a shocked cry escaping him.
Han Sen surged upwards, freedom regained. But freedom wasn't enough. Fury demanded blood. He reached deep, not for the armor, but for the beast within. He summoned the Bloody Butcher.
Light, violent and primal, consumed him. Bones groaned, muscles ripped and reconfigured. The Golden Carapace flowed and reshaped around the burgeoning monstrous form. In the space of a terrified heartbeat, Han Sen vanished. In his place stood the hulking, bull-headed Minotaur Centaur, clad in warped gold, eyes burning with feral rage.
Xue Longyan, eyes wide with disbelief and sudden terror through the blood streaming down his face, instinctively raised his luminous jade hand in a defensive chop. The transformed Han Sen didn't flinch. He took the blow on his thickly muscled, gold-armored shoulder – a jarring CLANG that barely registered. Massive, furred arms, corded with power, shot out like hydraulic presses, locking Xue Longyan in an inescapable bear hug.
Then, the massive bull head lowered. Horns like blackened spears gleamed.
WHOOM!
Han Sen drove his skull forward. It connected with Xue Longyan's forehead like a pile driver.
WHOOM! WHOOM! WHOOM!
"Who's the trash now?!" The words weren't spoken; they were roared from a bestial maw, raw and guttural, punctuating each brutal headbutt. Rocks cracked beneath Xue Longyan's skull. Blood, now mingling Han Sen's and Xue Longyan's, painted the ground crimson. The once-arrogant cultivator was reduced to a ragdoll in the grip of a furious demigod, his crystalline sheen flickering erratically under the savage, relentless assault.