Within ten minutes, the rear camp had ceased to be a military installation and had become a pyre.
Thick, oily black smoke—fueled by burning fodder, timber, and the rendered fat of exploded supply barrels—rose into the sky in a jagged, choking column. It was a deliberate scar against the grey clouds, a beacon engineered to be visible for miles in every direction. The flames roared with unnatural hunger, fed by the primeval stones we had deliberately cracked open before igniting them; each burst released bursts of colored fire—green from vitality herbs, violet from moon-attuned crystals—turning the blaze into a signal flare no commander could ignore.
I sat motionless atop my Steel-Back Wolf King, the metallic fur cool against my thighs despite the heat washing over us in waves. The flames reflected in my golden eyes, but my expression remained clinical, detached—like a surgeon watching pus drain from an abscess.
"We have drawn first blood on the gu master part," Yue Yin noted quietly. She stood in the long shadow of a collapsing yurt, soot streaking one pale cheek like war paint. Her daggers spun idly in her fingers, a nervous habit she only displayed when anticipating something truly dangerous. "Their commander will have no choice but to respond. If the front line sees their supplies burning while their leader does nothing, morale collapses. Who do you think is the commander?"
"I don't know yet," I admitted, gaze fixed on the southern horizon where the main battle still thundered. "The intelligence reports my father received were deliberately vague—standard tribal posturing. They only said the Hei commander is a 'genius of the younger generation,' Rank 2 Peak Stage, awakened a year before me. In the Northern Plains, every tribe claims to have a genius. Usually it means they have a rich father and a fat stack of primeval stones."
I tapped the Dog Shit Luck Gu resting quietly in my aperture. It wasn't buzzing with opportunistic excitement this time. It was emitting a low, rhythmic thrum—almost a warning heartbeat.
"But this feels... different," I murmured. "Whoever they are, they are about to make a mistake. Anger makes even geniuses stupid."
As if the words themselves had summoned the response, a sound tore through the air.
It wasn't the mournful bellow of a war horn. It wasn't the high scream of a dying warhorse or the crack of breaking ice.
It was a **Roar**.
"WHO **DARES**?!"
The sound originated miles away, yet possessed such raw acoustic violence that it shook loose snow from the surrounding ridges and rattled the teeth in my skull. It wasn't amplified by any Sound Path Gu I could detect. It was pure, biological power—lungs and throat and diaphragm stronger than tempered steel, expelling air with the force of a cannon.
I looked up.
From the distant main battlefield, a black dot launched skyward.
It did not fly. It **jumped**.
Three hundred meters in a single parabolic arc. Gravity clawed at the figure, but the descent was too slow, too controlled. It crashed onto a distant ridge, shattering bedrock in a plume of dust and ice—and without breaking stride, it jumped again.
**Boom. Boom. Boom.**
Each impact sounded like artillery. The rhythm was terrifyingly fast, closing the distance at an impossible pace.
"That is not normal Rank 2 movement technique," I muttered, medical instincts flaring. "Standard movement Gu rely on wind, lightness, or spatial distortion. That is pure kinetic force. No Gu activation signature other than the force pushing down the earth meaning if a gu is in use it'susing her raw power through increase or outcharge . Or Just muscle exploding against the earth."
"She's a monster," Yue Yin whispered. Her grip tightened on her daggers until her knuckles blanched white beneath the gloves.ready for any counterattack needed.
"Activate Rank 2 Unlucky Gambler Eye Gu."
Red Steel essence flooded my right eye. The burning camp faded into ghostly translucence. I focused south.
A pillar of aura was hurtling toward us at terminal velocity.
It wasn't red, green or gray it wasn't even only invisible or black.
It was a towering, chaotic tornado of **deep black** at the same time forcing her invisible luck wich formed a huge compressed invisible aura around her with absoulute pressure threatening to destray her the moment her luck ceases confrontation, laced with jagged cracks of **Black Lightning**out side the black cloud probably meaning it won't allow her to go to life and death gate alone , it would send any living being in her close proximity.
Black Lightning: fatal instability. The entire structure was tearing itself apart under its own obscene weight.
Observation: Immense raw power. Catastrophic internal pressure. The vessel is beautiful, but it is cooking itself alive.and is like a bomb ready to explode
"Form up!" I roared. "Defensive Circle! Steel-Backs to the front! Water Shells on the flanks! Lightning and Poison in reserve!"
The pack obeyed instantly—twelve hundred predators snapping into a perfect, breathing perimeter.
The Arrival
**CRASH.**
The figure did not land gracefully. It **impacted**.
The frozen earth—already softened by spreading fire—cratered instantly. A shockwave of dirt, ice shards, and flaming embers exploded outward. Two Steel-Back Wolves—each weighing over four hundred pounds—were knocked off their feet by the sheer air pressure, tumbling backward like toys.
Dust and steam obscured the crater for a heartbeat.
Then the figure rose.
It was a woman.
Seventeen, perhaps eighteen —just a year or so older than me.
And she was heartbreakingly beautiful.
In a land of wind-scoured faces and frost-bitten warriors, she looked like something sculpted by a god who had grown bored with mere mortals. High, razor-sharp cheekbones. Almond eyes that burned with violet fire. Lips full and cruel. Hair the color of midnight plums, whipping wildly in the superheated updrafts rising from her own body.
She wore Black Iron Armor—thick plates that would buckle a strong man's spine. On her, it looked light as silk. The armor covered vitals but left her arms and shoulders bare, revealing skin the color of dark bronze, gleaming with a faint metallic sheen.
I studied her with a surgeon's dispassionate precision.
No visible bulk. No grotesque overdevelopment. Her musculature was lean, compact, and impossibly defined—every fiber visible beneath the skin like steel cables wrapped in satin. She possessed the aesthetic grace of a hunting cat and the raw density of continental bedrock.
But what held my full attention—what made my pupils contract—was the **heat**.
Thick white steam hissed continuously from her exposed skin, rising in violent plumes. Her complexion was flushed a deep, feverish crimson. The air around her body warped and shimmered like the horizon over desert sand at noon. Snowflakes melted before they could touch her.
Thermal radiation at a level that should have cooked her internal organs in minutes.
Symptoms: Extreme systemic hyperthermia. Dilated pupils indicating massive adrenaline and cortisol surge. Muscle density at least ten times baseline human norms. No visible defensive Gu active—yet the surrounding fire does not burn her. Conclusion: Her baseline body temperature exceeds the combustion point of human tissue. She is self-immolating.
She stood in the center of the crater, chest heaving. Each exhale was a visible jet of superheated vapor.
She surveyed the burning carts. The mangled corpses of her elites. The black smoke spiraling skyward. Anger burning her whole being
Then she turned her head—slowly, deliberately—and looked directly at me.
"Ju Xiong's brat?"
The words came out as a growl, rough and gravelly, yet carrying a strange resonant depth that vibrated in my chest.
"You killed my men? You burned my supplies?"
She took one step forward. The ground cracked audibly beneath her boot.
"Good."
The word was followed by laughter—savage, broken, almost sexual in its release.
It wasn't the laugh of a commander assessing a tactical setback.
It was the laugh of an addict finally given her fix.
"I was getting bored killing ants at the front," she said, voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Finally... something worth **breaking**."
She raised her right fist.
No wind-up. No visible essence channeling. No killer move incantation.
She simply **punched** the empty air in my direction.
**WHOOSH.**
The atmosphere itself screamed.
The air directly in front of her fist was compressed with such instantaneous, obscene violence that it became a physical projectile—a transparent, distorted cannonball of pressurized atmosphere.
Rank 2 Strength Qi Gu—fired from a standstill.
"Scatter!"
I slammed my will through the Battle Disk.
My Steel-Back Wolf King exploded sideways with desperate speed.
**BOOM.**
The air bullet obliterated the space I had occupied a microsecond earlier. A massive boulder behind me simply ceased to exist—turned to pulverized dust in an instant. The shockwave knocked wolves off their feet and sent burning debris spinning through the air.
I landed ten meters away, Sky Wolf Wings flaring to bleed off momentum. My mind was already racing, dissecting the physics of what I had just witnessed.
Strength Qi Gu normally requires stored kinetic energy—a running start, a swing, momentum buildup. She fired it from a static position with no preparation. And the recoil... her skeleton didn't even shudder. Her bone density and connective tissue absorbed the equal-and-opposite force perfectly.
I looked at her again—steam pouring from her skin, muscles visibly flexing beneath bronze flesh, violet eyes burning with manic joy.
The final piece clicked.
The legends of Ren Zu.
The Ten Extreme Physiques.
Northern Dark Ice Soul.
Blazing Glory Lightning Brilliance.
And this.
**Great Strength True Martial Physique.**
Infinite strength regeneration. Infinite physical power scaling. But the price: the body literally cooks itself alive from the inside out. Every heartbeat pumps napalm ( the liquid used in flammable weapons and bombs)through her veins. Every breath scorches her lungs. She is a supernova contained in beautiful, mortal flesh—and the containment is failing as she loses control of her emotions.
My golden eyes widened slightly—the first crack in my composure since the war began.
This wasn't merely a genius commander.
This was a walking bomb. A rare, terminal patient wrapped in armor and rage.
The same situation as yue yin but more dangerous.
"Hei Ziyu!" I shouted across the burning wreckage, voice calm and projecting with absolute clinical authority—like a chief surgeon calling for a crash cart in the middle of chaos. "You look feverish! Your liver fire is rising, meridians are over-pressurized, and your core temperature is cooking your own organs! Don'tyou need help?"
She froze for one heartbeat—confusion flickering through the crimson haze of rage.
Then the madness swallowed it.how could a person weaker than her help her. The solution is winning the war.
"I need to rip your head off," she snarled, "and drink the blood from your neck while it's still warm!"
She stomped once.
The ice shattered in a ten-meter radius.
And then she charged.
The Titan had arrived.
And for the first time since my reincarnation, I was not looking at an enemy to be defeated.
I was looking at a opportunity to obtain another person with ten extreme physique
The real fight was about to begin.