I Become Sect master In Another World-Chapter 185 — Even So, They Did Not Kneel

The air twisted.

Not violently.

Not yet.

Qin Morian stood still, violet robes drifting as if the sky itself breathed for him. His gaze rested on Lin Shu—not dismissive, not curious.

Evaluating.

Then—

Pressure descended.

Invisible at first, but heavy enough that cracked stone groaned beneath Lin Shu’s boots. Her breath stalled mid-inhale.

The blue aura around her rippled violently, flaring once in resistance before being pressed flat, like fire forced under glass.

Her pupils contracted.

Spirit Lord.

Not barely.

Not newly stepped into it.

This was refined. Dense. Layered.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Level... five?

The realization hit harder than any blow.

Around them—

The sect felt it.

Disciples stiffened as if a hand had closed around their chests. Some dropped to one knee. Others forced themselves upright, faces pale, teeth clenched so hard blood leaked from bitten lips.

Elder Wan sucked in a sharp breath.

"...Spirit Lord," he whispered. "...Level Five..."

Elder An Ning’s jaw tightened.

Qin Morian tilted his head slightly.

"Oh?" he said mildly. "You sensed it."

Violet light pulsed once—lazy, almost bored.

"Good."

Then he moved.

He didn’t vanish.

He folded.

Space bent inward where he had been standing, his figure slipping sideways through reality like a blade sliding between ribs. Lin Shu reacted instantly—her body moving before thought.

Steel sang.

Blue lightning screamed as her sword carved a horizontal arc through the air—

—and struck nothing.

A violet formation disk snapped into existence mid-slash.

CLANG!

The impact rang like a struck bell. Sparks exploded outward as Lin Shu was forced back half a step, boots skidding across shattered stone. Her arms vibrated violently from the recoil.

Qin Morian stood to her left.

Unmoved.

He raised one finger.

Lines etched themselves into the air.

A formation unfolded between breaths—complex, rotating, layered. The moment it locked—

Force detonated.

Lin Shu crossed her blade instinctively.

BOOM—

She was hurled backward.

Her body slammed through a broken pillar, stone exploding around her as she tumbled across the terrace. She skidded to a stop on one knee, coughing sharply as blood splattered onto the ground.

Before she could rise—

He was already there.

A palm strike.

Simple.

Clean.

The air screamed.

Lin Shu twisted desperately, blade flashing upward—

CRACK—

The blow clipped her shoulder instead of her chest, but the impact still sent her spinning. Her sword flew from her hand, embedding itself blade-deep into stone several meters away.

She hit the ground hard.

Rolled.

Stopped.

Her vision blurred.

Qin Morian walked toward her.

Not fast.

Not slow.

Measured.

"You draw well," he said conversationally. "Your intent is sharp. Your control is... improving."

He lifted his hand again.

Violet sigils bloomed.

Lin Shu forced herself upright.

Blood ran from her brow, down the bridge of her nose, dripping onto cracked stone. Her chest heaved—but her eyes were steady.

She clenched her fist.

Blue aura erupted.

Lightning snapped violently outward as she lunged, bare-handed now, driving forward with everything she had left.

"—!"

Her strike never landed.

A translucent wall folded into existence in front of Qin Morian, her punch slamming into it with bone-jarring force. Pain screamed up her arm as the formation absorbed the impact and redirected it—

—into her ribs.

She flew.

Spun.

The sky inverted.

Then—

Hands caught her.

Firm.

Unyielding.

Her momentum didn’t stop immediately—both bodies slid backward across broken stone, heels carving trenches as dust exploded around them.

Elder Liya.

She gritted her teeth, pink aura flaring violently as she anchored herself, arms locked around Lin Shu’s waist.

"Enough," Liya snapped, voice shaking—not with fear, but strain. "You’ve done enough."

Lin Shu coughed.

Blood spilled from her lips.

"...No," she breathed. "Not yet."

Another presence landed beside them.

The ground pulsed emerald.

Vines burst up reflexively before retracting.

Elder Hua stood there, one arm hanging uselessly at her side, robes torn and bloodied. Despite it, she smiled—crooked, tired, real.

"You’re not alone, my friend." Hua said softly, glancing at Lin Shu from the corner of her eye. "Count us in."

Lin Shu’s breathing steadied.

She pushed herself upright.

Around them—

Footsteps.

Slow.

Determined.

Su Quan stepped forward first, sword trembling in her grip but raised anyway.

Muo Qian followed, blood streaking her cheek, stance low and grounded.

Jun Hua rolled her shoulders once, aura flaring weakly but stubbornly.

Then—

Xu Ran.

Her hands shook.

Her eyes filled with rage.

She stepped to Lin Shu’s side, jaw clenched, sword lifting despite torn sleeves and blood-soaked wrappings.

The women of the sect formed a line.

Broken.

Bruised.

Unbowed.

Qin Morian stopped.

For the first time, he didn’t immediately move.

His gaze swept over them—slow, thoughtful.

"...Interesting," he murmured.

Lin Shu stepped forward.

Each movement hurt.

She ignored it.

She wiped blood from her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled—small, stubborn, unyielding.

"Then stop playing," she said hoarsely.

Blue aura rose again.

Behind her—

Pink.

Emerald.

Purple.

Fading silver.

All rising together.

Qin Morian laughed.

Not loudly.

Not madly.

Just enough to be insulting.

The sound rolled out of him, calm and dismissive, as if what stood before him wasn’t a line of cultivators—but dust daring to rise.

"Insects," he said lightly.

Violet light curled around his fingers, lazy, predatory.

"Even if you crawl together," he continued, eyes sweeping over Lin Shu and the women behind her, "I could wipe you out without effort."

He raised one finger.

Not pointing.

Commanding.

"Kill them."

The sky answered.

Screams tore out from every direction as the creatures surged—dropping from above, spilling from shattered terraces, crawling over broken halls. Wings snapped open. Claws scraped stone. Bodies collided as they rushed, hunger and command driving them forward in a living tide.

The female line did not retreat.

Boots pressed into cracked stone.

Hands tightened on hilts.

A shadow fell from above—

A creature dove, mouth open wide, claws extended straight for Lin Shu’s head—

SHIIING—

Steel flashed.

The creature split in half mid-air, blood spraying outward as the body crashed apart on either side of the formation.

A laugh thundered.

"HAHA—TRY AGAIN!"

Wang Tian landed in front of them, fist dripping red, shoulders rolling as if warming up. Another creature lunged—

CRACK—

Its skull caved in under his punch.

Luo Chen appeared beside him like flowing wind, sword flickering once—twice—three times. Heads lifted free. Bodies collapsed before they understood they were dead.

Lu Fang’s spear punched forward, impaling a creature mid-charge and pinning it to stone. Cheng Fang slid under a claw swipe, blade carving upward in a clean diagonal that split torso from hip.

Xiao Rui vaulted over rubble, twin blades crossing in an X that shredded a lunging pair.

"NOT ONE STEP FURTHER!" Elder Wu roared, palm slamming down. The ground erupted, crushing three creatures flat beneath collapsed stone.

Golden light flared beside him—Elder Jian Fan’s fist drove forward, vaporizing a charging body in a straight line of compressed force.

Talismans ignited.

Elder Yaochen flicked his wrist—golden seals exploded mid-air, incinerating clusters before they could descend.

Shadow surged.

Elder An Ning stood bloodied but upright, blade carving arcs of darkness that erased anything foolish enough to approach.

Injured disciples limped forward anyway.

Lee Bie screamed as he thrust his sword through a creature’s chest.

Zong Bu tackled another off a ledge.

Xiao Lian’s blade trembled—but it didn’t stop.

Elder Feng Yu’s sword light tore through the air.

Elder Wan staggered forward, breathing ragged, hands glowing faintly as he reinforced the line.

Even Elder Meow Mao—robes torn, whiskers singed—slammed a paw down, spiritual force exploding outward.

Not a single creature reached the women.

Not one.

Behind the wall of steel and blood—

Lin Shu lifted her sword.

Her breathing was steady now.

Her eyes were calm.

"Alright," she said, voice cutting through chaos like a drawn blade.

She looked back.

At Su Quan.

At Muo Qian.

At Jun Hua.

At Xu Ran.

A faint smile touched her lips.

"Let’s show him," Lin Shu said, "what the Sanatan Flame Sect can do."

She lowered her blade.

Then—

They moved.

Elder Liya burst forward from the left.

Pink aura ignited around her like a flower forced open by fire—petal-shaped flames unfurling with every step as her blade sang through the air.

From the right—

The ground split.

Emerald light erupted as Elder Hua surged forward, vines exploding from shattered stone and coiling around her arms like living armor.

Two elders.

Two directions.

Perfect timing.

For the first time—

Qin Morian’s smile faded.

Not anger.

Calculation.

His gaze sharpened.

He lifted both hands.

The sky darkened.

Violet light condensed instantly, flooding into his palms—thick, dense, crushing. The air between his fingers folded inward as if gravity itself had been seized and kneaded. The light did not flare.

It compressed.

Two colossal spiritual palms formed above him, each one layered with rotating sigils, edges blurring as space warped under their weight.

They descended.

Not fast.

Not slow.

Inevitable.

"Scatter!" Elder Liya shouted.

Her voice tore across the battlefield.

Neither woman slowed.

They pushed harder.

Liya’s sword burned brighter as she slashed upward, pink light screaming as it collided with the descending force. Hua cracked her vines like whips, emerald energy surging as roots lunged to bind the falling palms.

For half a heartbeat—

They held.

Stone screamed.

Vines snapped.

Pink petals shattered.

Then the palms pressed.

The air detonated.

Liya was hit first.

Her aura collapsed inward as the spiritual palm smashed into her guard, force ripping through her body like a tidal wave. She was hurled backward, boots carving trenches through shattered stone, blood tearing from her mouth as her armor fractured under the pressure.

Hua followed.

Her vines were crushed flat, emerald light snuffed out in violent bursts as the second palm slammed down. She was blown off her feet, body spinning end over end before crashing through a collapsed wall in an explosion of stone and dust.

The ground cratered where they had stood.

Debris rained.

Ash billowed.

When the dust thinned—

Two bodies lay skidded apart across the ruins.

Liya coughed, pink aura flickering weakly as she forced herself onto one knee.

Hua groaned, blood streaking her sleeve as broken vines dissolved back into light around her.

Above them—

Qin Morian lowered his hands.

Unhurried.

Unmarked.

His voice drifted down, calm as falling ash.

"Bravery," he said lightly, "does not make you strong."

The battlefield trembled again.

Su Quan planted her feet.

Jun Hua stepped in beside her.

Xu Ran’s jaw clenched.

All three raised their fists.

Golden light ignited.

Not separately.

Together.

Their auras surged outward—streams of spiritual energy ripping free from their bodies and flowing into one point.

Into Muo Qian.

Her body trembled as the power flooded in.

Gold wrapped around her arms, her shoulders, her spine—layer upon layer until the light became blinding. Veins of energy crawled across her skin like molten cracks.

She screamed—not in fear—

In release.

"ULTIMATE—!"

The ground shattered beneath her feet.

"FUSION—!"

Golden light detonated upward.

"DRAGON—!"

She thrust her fist forward.

"FIST!"

Reality tore.

A colossal golden dragon erupted from her punch, its body forged from compressed spiritual energy, scales blazing white-gold, eyes igniting as it roared.

The force alone flattened creatures mid-air, bodies imploding before the dragon even touched them.

Qin Morian drew his right arm back.

The motion was unhurried.

Casual.

As if the battlefield before him had already ended.

Violet light gathered around his palm, spiraling inward in tight, predatory coils.

The air warped around it, bending like glass held too close to flame.

A sphere formed.

Not large.

Not flashy.

Dense.

So dense that light curved around its surface, refusing to touch it directly. Runes flickered faintly inside the orb, appearing and vanishing like dying stars.

Qin Morian’s eyes were cold.

"Catacly—"

The word had not finished forming.

CLANG.

A sharp, metallic vibration rang through the sky.

Qin Morian’s expression froze.

The air beneath his feet lit up.

Emerald.

Blinding.

A massive formation circle flared into existence directly under him, runes snapping into place one after another with violent precision.

Symbols rotated, locked, and sank into the sky itself as if reality were being engraved.

Before Qin Morian could move—

Chains erupted.

They burst upward from the formation in a violent surge—thick emerald links forged of pure suppression energy.

They wrapped around his ankles first, snapping shut with a thunderous clang, then spiraled upward in a blur.

One around his waist.

Two around his chest.

Another across his shoulders.

More shot upward, coiling around his arms, his wrists, his neck—locking him in place mid-air.

The violet orb flickered.

Destabilized.

Qin Morian’s eyes widened.

"What—?!"

He twisted.

Nothing moved.

The chains tightened instantly, runes burning brighter as they drank in his aura.

Violet energy flared violently around him—then was crushed inward, strangled before it could expand.

The sky trembled.

"...Great Vajra Binding Formation?" Qin Morian muttered, disbelief sharpening his voice.

His gaze snapped sideways.

Cut through smoke.

Through drifting debris.

And found him.

Elder Wan stood at the edge of a shattered terrace.

Barely.

His robes were torn. Blood streamed from his temple, down his cheek, dripping from his chin.

His chest heaved violently with each breath, shoulders shaking as if his lungs were tearing themselves apart.

Both hands were raised.

Fingers locked.

Trembling.

Emerald light poured from his palms in erratic waves, feeding the formation beneath Qin Morian’s feet.

Wan’s knees buckled.

He forced himself upright.

"...Found you," he rasped.

Blood spilled from his mouth as he spoke.

"This formation..." Wan wheezed, teeth clenched, "...freezes its target... completely... for a few seconds."

The chains constricted again.

Qin Morian growled, muscles bulging as violet aura surged—only to be crushed flat against his body by the formation. Cracks spread across the emerald runes, but they held.

For now.

Qin Morian’s gaze darkened.

"...You," he said quietly.

Wan laughed.

Weak.

Broken.

"...Enough," Wan whispered. "That’s... enough."

Behind Qin Morian—

The air screamed.

Golden light detonated.

The fusion dragon arrived.

Its roar tore through the battlefield as the colossal golden form surged forward, scales blazing, jaws wide, spiritual pressure collapsing everything in its path.

Qin Morian twisted his head just enough to see it.

His eyes narrowed.

Chains rattled.

The formation screamed.

The dragon struck.

BOOOOOOOOOOM—

The world vanished.

Sound ceased to exist.

Golden and violet light collided in a catastrophic explosion that swallowed the sky. Shockwaves tore outward, pulverizing stone, ripping terraces apart, hurling bodies through the air like leaves in a storm.

The mountain convulsed.

Debris vaporized.

Clouds were ripped open and erased.

Emerald chains shattered into fragments of light as the impact detonated at the center.

Dust surged upward in a towering wall, blotting out everything.

When the light faded—

Nothing was visible.

Only drifting ash.

Only rolling smoke.

Only silence heavy enough to crush breath.

Somewhere within the dust—

Something moved.

The dust rolled.

Thick.

Heavy.

It swallowed sound first, then shape, then even light—until the battlefield existed only as a gray void churning with drifting ash and broken qi.

A silhouette stood within it.

Still.

Unmoving.

The ash thinned.

Wind pushed through the smoke in uneven bursts, peeling layers away—

—and Qin Morian emerged.

He was still standing.

Not untouched.

That was what broke them.

His robes were torn, scorched through in several places. Blood traced a dark line down the side of his jaw, dripping slowly from his chin before vanishing into the rubble below. Cracks of disrupted aura crawled faintly across his arms and shoulders, violet light flickering unevenly where suppression and impact had finally bitten deep.

Injured.

Actually injured.

The battlefield froze.

Disciples stared.

Elders went still.

Even the creatures hesitated, their warped bodies twitching as instinct failed to process what they were seeing.

Qin Morian inhaled.

Slow.

Measured.

His chest rose—and fell.

Then his hand curled.

Stone beneath his fingers crushed as his fist clenched, fragments grinding into dust under raw pressure alone.

"...Seems," he said quietly, voice no longer amused, "that I took you all too lightly."

His eyes lifted.

The violet glow within them hardened, molten pupils sharpening into something colder—denser.

"But not now."

The air screamed.

Two presences tore in at once.

From the left—

Pink light exploded.

Elder Liya appeared mid-air, boots skidding against nothing as she forced her momentum downward. Her sword was already moving, pink aura erupting around it in layered waves that peeled lotus-shaped arcs into existence with each fraction of motion.

Her face was bloodied.

Her eyes were burning.

"LOTUS PIERCING SLASHES—!"

She brought the blade down.

The sword didn’t release one strike.

It released many.

A vertical cascade of pink slashes tore downward from the heavens—dozens upon dozens—each one layered inside the next, petals spinning, edges screaming as they split the air apart. The slashes overlapped, converging into a falling wall of razor-edged light aimed directly at Qin Morian’s head.

At the same time—

From the right—

Blue surged.

Lin Shu slid in low through the air, twisting mid-motion as her blade came around in a horizontal arc. Wind screamed as aura compressed along the edge of her sword, pressure collapsing until the space in front of her warped visibly.

Her voice cut sharp.

"AERIAL CUTTER!"

She swung.

The air itself was cleaved.

Invisible blades of compressed wind tore forward, layered and intersecting, bending light around them as they howled toward Qin Morian from the side—fast enough that the sound arrived after the strike.

Pink from above.

Wind from the side.

Perfect convergence.

Qin Morian’s pupils contracted.

His teeth clenched.

"GRAAAH—!"

He thrust both palms forward.

The world buckled.

Violet energy detonated outward from his hands, spiraling inward immediately as it condensed into a massive sphere between his palms. It wasn’t smooth—it churned violently, layers of corrupted qi folding over one another like collapsing stars.

Runes ignited inside it.

Not floating.

Grinding.

Orbiting in brutal, unstable paths.

The Cataclysm Sphere was born.

The air screamed.

Gravity twisted.

Debris, blood, shattered weapons—all were ripped inward, dragged screaming toward the growing violet mass. Space bent so sharply that the edges of the sphere appeared doubled, fractured, wrong.

Qin Morian roared.

"CATAAAAACLYSM—!"

He thrust forward.

The sphere exploded outward.

Not expanding—

ERASING.

It swallowed Liya’s slashes first.

Pink lotus blades hit the sphere and were annihilated instantly—petals disintegrating into raw light before they could even explode. The cascading slashes vanished one after another, erased as if they had never existed.

Lin Shu’s wind cutters struck next.

They screamed as they collided—

—and collapsed.

Compressed air detonated uselessly against the sphere’s surface, shockwaves ripping outward as Qin Morian’s attack overpowered them completely, chewing through the pressure and continuing forward without slowing.

The girls’ eyes widened.

Too late.

The Cataclysm Sphere hit.

BOOOOOOOOOOM—

The explosion devoured the battlefield.

Light swallowed everything—violet, pink, blue—collapsing into a blinding detonation that rivaled the earlier fusion technique. The shockwave tore outward in a perfect ring, flattening terrain, ripping massive chunks from the mountain, vaporizing anything caught too close.

Stone disintegrated.

The air ruptured.

Sound died.

Elder Liya was hurled backward like a meteor, body spinning uncontrollably as blood sprayed from her mouth.

Lin Shu vanished into the blast, her silhouette swallowed by violent violet light.

The mountain screamed.

When the light finally faded—

Cracked stone smoldered.

Ash rained.

And the battlefield stood frozen in disbelief.

The smoke thinned.

Heat still warped the air, rising in trembling waves from scorched stone. Shattered terraces lay half-collapsed, blood running in thin streams between cracks.

The echo of the last explosion still rang faintly in the ears, a hollow pressure that refused to fade.

Muo Qian stood frozen.

Her fists trembled.

Golden aura flickered weakly around her arms, sputtering like a flame starved of air. Her chest rose and fell too fast. Too shallow.

"...No..." she whispered.

Beside her, Su Quan’s lips parted soundlessly. Her eyes were wide—too wide—locked on the blast zone where Lin Shu and Elder Liya had been swallowed moments earlier.

Jun Hua swallowed hard.

Her knees shook.

Xu Ran’s hands clenched so tightly around her sword that blood ran between her fingers. Her breath hitched once—then broke.

"...They—" Xu Ran’s voice cracked. "They can’t—"

The dust shifted.

A piece of broken stone slid free and clattered down the slope.

That was all it took.

Muo Qian screamed.

"MOVE!"

She surged forward, golden aura flaring violently as she forced power into exhausted limbs. Su Quan and Jun Hua moved with her, teeth clenched, faces pale but burning with refusal.

Xu Ran followed.

Not a step behind.

Their bodies screamed at them to stop.

They didn’t listen.

Above them—

Qin Morian saw it.

And something snapped.

His injured aura surged violently, violet cracking and bleeding into crimson as rage finally tore through his composure. Blood still clung to his jaw, but his eyes burned now—no amusement left.

"DIE—!" he roared, voice tearing the sky. "YOU DAMN BRATS!"

He thrust his right palm forward.

Crimson erupted.

Not light—

Wrath.

Demonic energy poured out of his arm, thick and viscous, swirling violently as runes burned across his palm. The air around his hand ignited into deep red distortion, space collapsing inward as if kneeling before the strike.

"CRIMSON ASURA PRINT!"

The palm expanded.

Gigantic.

A colossal demonic hand formed midair, lines of wrath etched across its surface, veins of crimson energy pulsing like a living heart. Its fingers curled slowly as it descended, shadow swallowing the battlefield beneath it.

The girls looked up.

Their eyes widened.

The sky was falling.

"—MOVE!" Su Quan screamed.

Too late.

The Asura Palm came down.

BOOOOOOOOM—

The explosion ripped the mountain open.

Crimson light swallowed everything as the palm slammed into the ground, detonating with enough force to tear stone apart layer by layer. Terraces collapsed. Pillars disintegrated. A shockwave blasted outward, flinging debris and bodies like leaves in a storm.

Muo Qian vanished inside the blast.

Su Quan and Jun Hua were thrown backward mid-charge, bodies spinning helplessly as blood sprayed from their mouths.

Xu Ran’s scream was cut off as she was swallowed whole.

The impact shook the entire sect.

Silence followed.

Then—

"NO—!!!"

Wang Tian’s roar tore out of him as he tried to charge forward, veins bulging along his neck. Luo Chen moved with him, sword already raised, eyes bloodshot.

"XU RAN!" Cheng Fang screamed, lunging despite blood pouring from his wounds.

Lu Fang followed.

They didn’t get far.

Creatures surged in from every direction.

Claws slammed into armor. Fangs tore into shoulders. One beast crashed into Wang Tian’s side, ribs cracking audibly as he was driven back. Another raked Luo Chen’s arm, flesh tearing open.

A creature laughed—wet, gurgling.

"Focus on your fight," it sneered, teeth dripping. "Your women are already dead."

Wang Tian roared and crushed its skull—but another took its place immediately.

The battlefield fractured.

On the other side—

Shadow and wind tore through the horde.

Elder An Ning and Elder Feng Yu fought back-to-back, breathing hard, blood streaking their robes. Their blades flashed relentlessly—shadow severing bodies, light cleaving heads free.

"Push through!" Feng Yu shouted.

An Ning nodded once.

They launched together.

Straight at Qin Morian.

Qin Morian’s head snapped toward them.

His lips curled.

"You think—"

He raised his hand.

The sky folded.

A circular sigil ignited in his palm, spinning violently as layers of runes stacked atop one another. The formation shot outward, expanding instantly.

"—you can reach me?"

The world locked.

A massive formation snapped into place around Elder An Ning and Elder Feng Yu.

Hexagonal mirrors floated into existence—dozens, then hundreds—forming a spherical cage. Each mirror gleamed with pale violet light, surfaces perfectly smooth, reflecting infinite fractured images of the two elders.

CLANG—!

An Ning slammed into the barrier mid-charge.

The air rippled.

"...What?" his eyes widened.

"Formation—!" Feng Yu began.

Too late.

The cage sealed.

Mirrors rotated slowly, orbiting them like executioners’ blades.

"Mirror-Cage of the Sword Saint," Qin Morian said coldly.

Elder Wan staggered.

His knees trembled visibly as terror flashed across his face.

"...No," he whispered.

Inside the cage, An Ning snarled and swung.

"SHADOW SEVER!"

A massive crescent of darkness tore outward—

—and vanished into the mirror.

Then—

It reappeared.

From behind.

An Ning barely twisted aside as his own slash ripped past his shoulder, tearing flesh and spraying blood.

Feng Yu’s eyes went wide.

He slashed instinctively—

Only to see his own sword intent erupt from a mirror at his flank.

They both staggered.

Elder Wan screamed.

"STOP!" he shouted, voice breaking. "That formation—it’s designed to cage sword cultivators!"

His hands shook as he pointed.

"No matter how many sword attacks you use—no matter how strong—every slash will be devoured and reflected from another angle!"

Inside the cage—

The mirrors rotated faster.

An Ning and Feng Yu clenched their swords.

Hard.

Their breathing turned ragged.

"...Tch," An Ning spat blood. "A prison made to kill us with our own blades."

Feng Yu’s jaw tightened.

"...So we can’t attack."

Around them—

The mirrors gleamed.

Waiting.

The battlefield burned.

The sect bled.

Qin Morian turned.

Not hurried.

Not alarmed.

Just enough for his gaze to settle on one man.

Elder Wan.

Blood streaked Wan’s face. His robes were torn, chest heaving violently as he forced qi through shattered meridians. Still—his fingers moved, trembling but precise, sketching formation lines into the air.

Qin Morian’s lips curved faintly.

"Kid," he said, voice flat, cutting through the battlefield noise like cold steel, "you know formations well."

Wan clenched his teeth.

Light flared between his hands.

Runes began to—

The air exploded.

Qin Morian vanished.

No blur.

No warning.

One heartbeat Wan stood forming a circle. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

The next—

Qin Morian was there.

Too close.

Wan’s pupils shrank.

A palm slammed into his abdomen.

Not heavy.

Not flashy.

Perfectly placed.

Wan’s back arched violently as the strike crushed the breath from his lungs. Qi shattered inside him, bursting out of his pores in a chaotic spray.

Before he could even gasp—

CRACK.

Qin Morian drove his forehead forward.

Bone met bone.

Wan’s vision shattered into white.

Blood sprayed sideways as his head snapped back.

Then—

Violet light coiled around Qin Morian’s fist.

Condensed.

Compressed.

His arm pulled back a fraction—

—and shot forward.

The punch smashed into Wan’s lower jaw.

CRUNCH.

Teeth shattered.

Blood erupted from Wan’s mouth in a wide arc as his body was launched backward like a broken doll.

He flew.

Straight through the air—

—and into the main hall.

BOOOOOOM!

The massive sect doors exploded inward as Wan slammed through them. Stone shattered. Wood splintered. His body hit the floor, flipped once—twice—three—four—five times—before skidding across blood-slick stone and coming to a stop.

He lay there.

Vision spinning.

Sound distant.

His limbs refused to respond.

Darkness crawled in from the edges.

Qin Morian stepped forward slowly, violet aura rolling lazily around his body.

"I," he said softly, "am your death."

The air screamed.

Qin Morian’s eyes widened.

Instinct—not thought—saved him.

He twisted aside.

A sword flashed past his face—

too close.

Steel kissed flesh.

A thin red line opened across his cheek.

Blood ran.

Warm.

Real.

Qin Morian froze.

His hand rose to his face.

He touched the blood.

His pupils tightened.

In the air before him—

Lin Shu.

Blood streaked her forehead. Her breathing was uneven. Her aura flickered violently—but her eyes were clear.

Focused.

Their gazes locked.

For one silent heartbeat—

The battlefield vanished.

Qin Morian jumped back.

Lin Shu flipped midair, boots hitting the ground in a low crouch that cracked stone. She rose instantly, sword already thrusting forward.

Qin Morian lifted his hand.

A defensive formation snapped into existence.

CLANG!

Lin Shu’s blade struck the runic wall, sparks bursting outward as blue and violet energy screamed against each other.

Qin Morian countered.

His palm shot forward.

Lin Shu twisted aside, the strike grazing her ribs close enough to tear cloth and skin. Pain ripped through her side—but she didn’t slow.

She spun.

Her sword arced upward in a diagonal slash.

The air screamed.

Qin Morian retreated—

Too slow.

The blade tore across his shoulder.

Not deep.

But enough.

Blood sprayed.

He hissed.

Teeth grinding.

Lin Shu pressed in.

She thrust.

Straight for his heart.

Qin Morian shifted sideways at the last instant.

The sword missed his chest—

But—

His fist didn’t miss her face.

CRACK.

The punch landed mid-motion.

Lin Shu’s head snapped sideways as blood burst from her mouth. Her body was thrown backward, skidding across shattered stone, armor cracking under the force.

She barely rolled to a stop.

Qin Morian straightened.

And screamed.

Violet energy detonated from his body.

The sky darkened.

Two massive violet orbs formed above his palms, spinning violently, pulling light inward as if devouring the world itself. Heat warped the air. Stone beneath his feet began to melt.

He brought his hands together.

The orbs fused.

A sun was born.

A colossal sphere of condensed destruction burned between his palms—white-hot at its core, violet flames licking outward like solar flares. Space bent violently around it, gravity collapsing inward.

"SUN OF EXTINCTION!"

He thrust both hands forward.

The orb screamed.

Lin Shu barely looked up.

Too late.

The star collided with her.

BOOOOOOOOOOM—

The world ended.

Light erased color.

Sound vanished.

A nuclear storm tore outward, shockwaves flattening the battlefield. Entire terraces disintegrated. Creatures were vaporized. Elders were thrown to the ground. Weapons flew from numb fingers.

Some disciples dropped to their knees.

Others screamed.

Some simply stared.

Dust swallowed everything.

Silence followed.

Slow.

Heavy.

Qin Morian lowered his hands.

Smoke rolled around him.

He smiled.

Somewhere within the dust—

Lin Shu lay unseen.

Alive?

Or erased?

No one could tell.

The battlefield held its breath.

To Be Continued...