The masked man—no, the Phoenix Talon—moved like a blazing comet, his every strike accompanied by the shriek of burning air. Each blow sought not just to wound, but to sear away the opponent's essence.
Liu Shen met him head-on. His sword flashed once, twice, each arc of steel tracing a path through the inferno, scattering flames into curling embers. The two men exchanged blows in a blur, steel ringing against clawed gauntlets, the clash of qi shaking the fractured breach.
From the sidelines, Yu Meixing steadied her breathing. The aftereffects of shattering the barrier still gnawed at her meridians, but she refused to fall here. She tightened her grip on the Ninth Needle, ready to strike if Liu Shen needed her.
"Your shadow arts are incomplete," the Phoenix Talon said between strikes. "But your killing intent… it's the same as the stories."
Liu Shen's lips curved into the faintest smirk. "Stories tend to understate the truth."
The Talon swept his arm outward. A wave of flame roared toward Liu Shen, the ground itself melting under its heat. But Liu Shen stepped forward instead of back. His sword, wreathed in abyssal qi, cleaved straight through the blaze, extinguishing it in a single motion.
The Talon's eyes widened. "Abyssal qi… in the heart of the Phoenix Empire?!"
Liu Shen didn't answer. He shifted his stance, the shadows around him deepening until they seemed to drink the light. The oppressive aura pressed against the Talon's chest, making his breath falter for the first time.
The clash resumed, faster and harder. Talon's flames surged higher, taking the form of a giant phoenix whose wings threatened to engulf the breach. Liu Shen's sword carved through those wings, dispersing them into motes of dying light.
From above, the surviving Phoenix Guards hesitated. The breach they were meant to defend now held a battle that no ordinary cultivator could join without being reduced to ash—or nothingness.
Yu Meixing finally moved. She darted to Liu Shen's side, her presence weaving into his, shadows threading between flames. Her strike wasn't aimed at the Talon's body—it pierced the ground at his feet. The needle's power erupted, sending shockwaves upward that disrupted his footing for a heartbeat.
It was all Liu Shen needed.
He stepped into the opening, his sword aimed for the Talon's throat.
But instead of falling, the man laughed—a deep, guttural sound—as a burst of flame erupted from within his chest, propelling him backward into the smoke beyond the wall.
"Demon Sovereign," the Talon's voice echoed, faint but sharp, "the Phoenix Throne awaits you."
The flames vanished.
Silence fell over the breach, save for the distant rumble of war deeper in the city.
Liu Shen lowered his sword, glancing once at Meixing. "We move. The palace won't wait."