Han Xue took a deep breath at the edge of the arena.
The heat around him began to concentrate once again. It was no longer a chaotic expansion of flames. It was an accumulation of controlled heat. Everything that remained of his Qi was being gathered.
A large fireball appeared above his right hand.
Unlike the previous ones, that sphere was dense to the point of seeming almost solid. The surface blazed in overlapping layers, like magma compressed under absurd pressure. The air around it rippled violently.
With his left hand, Han Xue struck the sphere itself. The fireball exploded. But it did not dissipate.
It expanded and reshaped, obeying his will. The flames stretched, curved, and assumed a new form.
A gigantic bow of fire appeared in his hand. Much larger than the previous one.
The ends were like flaming fangs. The string burned like an incandescent thread that seemed to cut through space itself. Han Xue grasped the bowstring.
