Blood Battle Against the Pseudo-Dragon

Bai Tingting slowly opened her eyes. She had expected to see the nauseating stomach walls of the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon — but instead she found sunlight, a blue sky, and clouds tinged reddish from distant flames.

Zhao Manyan and Mu Nujiao stared in equal disbelief at the figure beside them — the one whose hair had grown so long it nearly dragged along the ground. The man was clearly Mo Fan, and yet neither of them could bring themselves to believe it was truly him.

Blood-wolf markings covered his face in striking patterns, and those same curse-like brands spread across every inch of his body.

His hands had become something closer to savage claws, and with them he held the four of them aloft without the slightest effort.

His leaping ability was extraordinary — practically flight. He vaulted from one towering skyscraper to another a hundred meters away without a second thought. Any normal person would have been shattered beyond recognition; he didn't even flinch.

Bounding across rooftops and domed structures of varying heights, demonized Mo Fan carried the four of them in a thick hide net all the way down from the summit of the Peak Lair to street level. Had he not needed to consider that the four soul-sealed survivors couldn't survive a direct drop, he would never have bothered using the buildings as stepping stones — a three-hundred-meter freefall would hardly have troubled him.

This state was one Mo Fan couldn't begin to describe.

Just as the Blood Beast Boots could channel the Blood Beast's raw strength into his legs when activated, every part of his body was now flooded with a force that dwarfed the Boots by an incomprehensible magnitude. This bloodline power circulated through him continuously — unlike the Boots' effect, it didn't fade.

This body was immensely powerful, a world apart from the frail mage's frame he'd always known. Were it not for the vaguely human silhouette it still retained, this was exactly what a Demon-Beast of supreme bloodline would look like.

Mo Fan was agitated. Not just restless — completely, utterly frenzied.

He could still think, but thought felt repulsive and exhausting. The bloodlust, killing instinct, and rage buried in his bones had been amplified beyond measure by the demonic power that had surged through him without warning. What problem couldn't be solved with fists? Kill everything that needed killing, and there would be nothing left to trouble him.

Right now Mo Fan felt like a devil caged for years — finally set free, and hell-bent on reducing the entire world to rubble.

Slaughter and destruction — that was the only fitting consecration for this body.

He didn't even want to think about why he had saved these four people. He only knew there was a fixation lodged deep in his mind — something that felt like an instinct planted the moment his demonized self had descended upon this world: no one but him was allowed to touch a single hair on their heads.

**"ROOOOAAAR!!"**

From atop the Peak Lair, a deafening roar split the sky, its shockwave rolling across the entire central district of Jinlin City.

As if sensing the fury of their overlord, the Lizard-Skull Giant Demons scattered across the ruins bowed their heads and trembled, awaiting command.

A massive, knob-covered body heaved itself from the shattered summit of the Peak Lair. It was the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon.

A concave depression marked its neck — the source of its incandescent rage. Most unforgivable of all: its den had been destroyed.

From its high vantage point, the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon glared down at demonized Mo Fan, its unceasing roars thundering downward with such force that the surrounding buildings had begun to sway.

At last, it launched itself from the heights, gliding downward. Its bulk cast an enormous shadow across the city, and the already-abandoned buildings collapsed like toy blocks at every casual brush of its body.

**"GRAAAH!!"** Demonized Mo Fan answered with a roar of his own. The sound hit Mu Nujiao, Zhao Manyan, and Bai Tingting like a physical blow — all three clapped their hands over their ears in agony.

Killing — that, too, was one of his instincts.

Demonized Mo Fan had no desire to think. He only wanted to follow the instincts of this body — to wade into blood and battle, to tear that damned fat lizard into shreds.

**Whoosh.**

A flicker, and demonized Mo Fan vanished from where he stood.

Out on the main road ahead, within the shadow cast by the descending Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon, a wolf-shaped outline slowly materialized.

**"AOOOWWW!!!"**

The wolf shadow grew denser and more defined, until it coalesced into a trembling wolf soul.

Beneath the wolf soul stood a figure — demonized Mo Fan. His face was as wild and dark as ink, his smile warped with malice.

The power at his command flowed through him like pure instinct. All it asked of him was to spread his arms wide and roar at the sky.

He did exactly that — arms thrown open, eyes locked onto the diving pseudo-dragon without a trace of fear.

He howled like a frenzied wolf. The very air shook.

In the same instant, the spectral shadow swelled enormous. The shadows cast by the surrounding skyscrapers seemed to be swallowed up into that vast wolf-soul silhouette.

The Wolf Soul surged upward from Mo Fan's body in a burst of savage energy, lunging ferociously at the diving Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon and sinking its spectral fangs into the beast's throat.

The Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon was incensed. It lashed out with its massive claws, and the two ferocious beings tore into each other — one a wall of raw muscle and brute force, the other a raging spectral shade seething with the most primitive kind of wildness.

In the end, the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon proved the more savage of the two. It seemed to have found the Wolf Soul's weakness: a torrent of fetid breath that could have leveled skyscrapers poured into the half-incorporeal body of the Wolf Soul, flooding through its formless frame.

The Wolf Soul immediately began fraying at the edges, as if that single fetid blast could dissolve it entirely. Its claws had scored wounds on the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon, but the beast's hide was thick enough that it didn't even register the damage.

"Back!" On the ground, demonized Mo Fan called out to the Wolf Soul.

It swiftly withdrew to his back, clinging there in a state between solid and spectral — adding a deeper, darker edge to his already ferocious presence.

**Crackle... crackle-crackle... crackle-crackle-crackle...**

Seeing the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon bearing down without mercy, the lightning chains coiled around demonized Mo Fan began to stir and writhe.

This violet force had been waiting long enough. Lightning, after all, was the true element of destruction.

**"GRAAAH!!!"**

Demonized Mo Fan howled again — his body covered in blood-rune sigils, his shadow the shape of a dark werewolf.

Lightning crackled and snapped around him in a frenzied storm; some arcs too wild to be contained spilled onto the street below, sending the Lizard-Skull Giant Demons in the area scattering in total chaos.

Fingers curled into talons.

Demon Mo Fan launched himself skyward, and as his claw strike lashed out, the lightning shackles coiled around him broke free and streaked after the deep arcs of claw light.

The claw light tore through the air and raked across the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon's chest. Even with its steel-like body, the creature's thick hide was shredded open, and pseudo-dragon blood sprayed in long arcs from the deep gashes.

And the lightning that followed — ever relentless, finding every crack and opening — drove itself like a drill through the wounds torn by the claws, boring deep into the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon's flesh and muscle.