The old man floated high above the storage compound, balanced on a gleaming flying sword. His white robes fluttered in the night breeze, and his eyes glowed a milky white — a sign of his clairvoyant sight. He peered downward, watching Wei Feng's struggle unfold within the underground dungeon as if he stood right there.
He chuckled, voice low and rasping. "Okay, wolf cub, this is your opportunity to grow. I won't help you. This is within your abilities..." His lips curled into a sardonic grin. "But I'll be handling something else. Right, 'Boss'?"
The air twisted. A hulking figure shimmered into visibility beneath the moonlight. Massive, demonic wings unfurled like dark banners, keeping the creature aloft. His skin, an unnatural shade of icy blue, stretched tightly over sinewy muscle. Black horns curved backward from his forehead, and jagged, bone-like spikes jutted from his shoulders. His eyes gleamed like twin pits of azure flame, and his teeth — sharp and uneven — stretched into a perpetual snarl.
"You finally noticed me, old man," the blue devil rasped, voice like stone grinding against steel. "So, the rats from Blood Eyes finally crawled out of their hole. I suggest you retreat before you become past tense."
The old man didn't even glance at him, gaze still fixed on Wei Feng's distant silhouette. "Scram, scrub."
The blue devil threw his head back and howled with laughter. "Okay, buffoon. If words don't work..." He spread his arms wide, wings beating furiously against the air. Frost gathered around him like a living aura. "ICE AGE!" he roared.
The sky darkened as snow began to swirl, a storm birthing itself around the devil's body. The temperature plummeted, and icy rain lashed the air. Hailstones the size of fists hurtled toward the old man like meteorites, each one carrying the weight of deadly intent.
Finally, the old man blinked, his eyes fading back to their normal, piercing black. He turned slowly, unbothered by the incoming barrage. With an exhale, he reached into his sleeve and produced a small, round, brown pill. He swallowed it without hesitation.
The moment the pill dissolved, flames erupted around his body — a blazing sphere of golden fire that incinerated the approaching hail before it could get close. The sheer force of his presence distorted the air itself, the flames bending space with their intensity.
The blue devil flinched, his instincts screaming danger, but then his twisted mouth stretched into a sinister grin. "A worthy opponent," he whispered, licking his lips.
The old man hovered midair, the sphere of fire around him flickering like a living entity. The red pill's effects surged through his body, muscles bulging with renewed vitality. A third of his hair turned black, cascading down his back like threads of midnight. His once-wrinkled face smoothed, yet gained a fierce, primal edge as tribal tattoos sprawled across his skin like burning brands. The fire that had shielded him seared away his robes, leaving his now bare, scarred torso a canvas of ancient symbols, pulsating with latent power.
A single, jagged red horn sprouted from his temple, glowing faintly as if feeding on his own lifeblood.
The blue devil, still hovering amidst the raging storm, grimaced, his charred wings beating sluggishly against the air. "That pill... it reeks of my kin. A dire devil's core, refined into an elixir? You truly are a relic of an age better forgotten," he spat, his voice distorted like scraping metal.
The old man didn't even dignify the words with a response. He casually raised a hand, flames spiraling to form a sleek, ethereal arrow, the very air around it shimmering from the heat. He leveled it at the devil, eyes devoid of emotion.
"Asura Arrow."
He released the shot with a flick of his fingers.
The projectile tore through the sky like a vengeful comet, crossing the distance in a blink. The blue devil's eyes widened — there was no time to evade. The arrow speared through him, and the resulting explosion bathed the heavens in blinding light.
The blast was so immense that the slums of Rotten Apple City mistook it for fireworks. Children in tattered clothes cheered and clapped, their grim reality momentarily forgotten by the spectacle of flames dancing across the sky.
As the smoke cleared, a mutilated figure remained. The entire right side of the blue devil's body was obliterated, wings tattered, flesh hanging in scorched ribbons. Yet, despite the devastation, he was laughing — a low, guttural sound bubbling from his ruined throat.
"Now you've done it," he rasped, coughing up chunks of blackened blood. His lone remaining eye gleamed with manic delight. "You've made this personal."
The devil's mouth opened, and he began to swallow. Not food, not pills — but the blood of the mortals below. Crimson tendrils of liquid life snaked upward, drawn from countless unsuspecting citizens, weaving into the devil's ruined body. Muscle regrew. Skin knitted together. His wing regenerated, and the horn on his forehead gleamed with renewed vigor.
The old man's eyes darkened. His brow furrowed, not in fear, but in righteous fury. Despite his typical aloof demeanor, something ignited in his chest.
"Feeding on mortals?" he muttered, voice low and cold. The fire around him flared, roaring to life. "I was going to break you. Now I'll erase you."
The blue devil, now fully restored, grinned with predatory malice. "Then come, hero. Entertain me."
And with that, they clashed, flame and ice colliding, the very heavens trembling under the force of their battle.