The Lizard Horde Withdraws
The rage roiling in his bones demanded total release. Watching the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon take flight, Mo Fan burned with a fury he could barely contain.
He moved at a blistering pace, his palms transformed into razor claws as he sprinted straight up the face of the city's tallest derelict television tower as if it were level ground. The sight was nothing short of feral.
After racing up the vertical surface to the very top, the demonized Mo Fan finally spotted the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon — already sixty or seventy meters aloft.
He crouched slowly on the tower's dome, coiling into that same stance as before. The bow-drawn buildup of force could launch him over a hundred meters into the air — a leaping power that dwarfed even the Swift Star Wolf itself. The Demonization triggered by the Blood Catalyst had amplified the Swift Star Wolf's bloodline beyond all reckoning.
**FWOOM!!!**
Wrapped in the phantasmal silhouette of a wolf, the demonized Mo Fan rocketed into the sky and hurled himself straight at the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon.
The Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon beat its wings in a frenzy, as if it had seen a ghost.
This was its territory — no other species dared trespass — but the Pseudo-Dragon had found this abomination's power deeply unsettling. Until it understood exactly what kind of creature it was dealing with, it had no desire to fight to the death.
And yet the thing pressed its advantage, refusing to let go even as the dragon willingly retreated!
*Is this thing insane?!*
The Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon seethed. It drew in a massive breath, pulling all the surrounding air into its belly...
Its enormous body swelled and puffed outward until, from a distance, it resembled nothing so much as a huge winged balloon.
**ROARRR!!!**
The Pseudo-Dragon expelled every last ounce of breath at the pursuing demonized Mo Fan in one devastating blast. In an instant, a breathtaking hurricane of expelled breath swirled to life in midair.
The breath-hurricane poured downward, rushing headlong into Mo Fan as he shot upward...
Suspended in midair, he couldn't maneuver with his usual agility. The dragon's breath slammed into him with full force, swallowing him entirely into the roiling storm.
The breath-hurricane continued its descent, carrying the off-balance Mo Fan like a colossal spinning top before slamming him into a stretch of overgrown residential ruins far below.
Every building across the district was pulverized by the spiraling blast, dust and debris billowing outward in a chaotic cloud. At the very eye of the storm, the demonized Mo Fan was driven hard into the crater gouged from the earth by the impact. Welts crisscrossed his body, as though he'd been lashed by a whip a thousand times over.
The wounds were shallow — surface damage at most. The breath-hurricane still swirled above the ruined district, but Mo Fan rose to his feet as if nothing had happened, his strange, inhuman eyes cutting through the thick curtain of dust to fix on the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon climbing ever higher above.
High in the sky, the Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon stared down at him in turn.
When it saw that the creature had suffered nothing more than scratches, it exhaled a sharp, irritated snort.
*What kind of monster is this? It's no bigger than a puny human — yet the blood in its veins rivals that of a ruler-class creature!*
*Why bother provoking something like that?*
The Giant Lizard Pseudo-Dragon lifted its head and unleashed a commanding roar toward the countless Lizard-Skull Giant Demons swarming across the streets below.
Wings beating steadily, it turned and flew toward Dongting Lake without a backward glance.
It had never intended to stay here permanently. The time had come to lead its people home to their true Nest.
The moment the order rang out, the dense mass of Lizard-Skull Giant Demons receded like a tide. The main streets that had thundered with their rumbling fell silent with startling speed. All that remained visible was a vast carpet of scales and tails, following their leader toward the distant horizon.
A sprawling river of living flesh writhed its way through Jinlin City. The Lizard-Skull Giant Demons had no concept of preserving property — they rolled straight through the long-abandoned city, and what few structures still stood were flattened in their wake. The spectacle was awe-inspiring in its sheer destructive scale.
The demonized Mo Fan could cut through Lizard-Skull Giant Demons like a knife through paper, but their numbers were simply staggering. Even fighting through an entire day and night might not be enough to wipe them out...
And this was merely one small Clan under a single Lizard-Skull Giant Demon commander. The Tribe at Dongting Lake — tens or hundreds of times larger — was beyond imagining.
In another district of the city, a relentless barrage of devastating High-Level Magic had reduced the surrounding landscape to something unrecognizable.
This was the battlefield of Zhankong and the devil Lu Nian. The two were evenly matched — no clear advantage on either side.
Lu Nian's cultivation might have been a full tier above Zhankong's, but Zhankong — a Wind Element mage — was extraordinarily mobile. He knew how to dodge and weave around Lu Nian's most devastating spells. Their battle had raged from the sky all the way down to ground level, and the Demon-Beasts of Jinlin City caught in the crossfire numbered well over a hundred dead.
Both had noticed the uproar rising from the center of Jinlin City, but with a dangerous opponent right in front of them, neither could afford to let their attention wander.
"Still just as pathetic as ever." Lu Nian's face split into a cruel smile. "If this is the full extent of your abilities, then I suppose you can go to the grave today and keep her company. I'm sure she's missed you terribly — you worthless piece of trash."
As he spoke, he casually twisted a combat bracer on his wrist.
The moment it turned, a murky brown magical radiance blazed to life, rapidly enveloping him from head to toe.
"This is called the Arm of Petrification. It dramatically amplifies the effect of my Eye of Petrification. All of your defensive Enchanted Gear is worthless now — and don't even dream that Wind-Wing Guard can hold against my Eye of Petrification this time. Zhankong, are you satisfied with the petrification funeral I've specially prepared just for you?" Lu Nian broke into a long, ringing laugh.
A Petrify Magic Weapon!
Such artifacts were extraordinarily rare — custom-crafted to amplify the effects of certain specialized spells. Lu Nian had spent a considerable fortune acquiring it.
He'd originally planned to save it for some great battle. He'd never imagined the first to experience the full might of his Petrify power would be his old comrade-in-arms Zhankong. All the better.
Zhankong's brow furrowed, and he immediately began pulling back.
The Magic Weapon on Lu Nian's arm radiated a terrifying power — far beyond Common Grade. If the Eye of Petrification was unleashed, a quarter of the entire district would turn to stone. He had to get clear...
"Run? What good will running do?" Lu Nian was building up power. The charge-up took a while, but even at Zhankong's speed, there was no chance he'd outrun the effect's range.
Lu Nian savored watching Zhankong scramble away. It was like a hawk-and-hare game. The rabbit always fancied itself quick enough to bolt into its burrow — but the hawk had already calculated its prey's speed and the distance to the entrance the moment it began its dive. The outcome was decided before the hunt even started.
"Hm? Given up?" The Petrify power had already begun radiating outward from Lu Nian's body. The surrounding vegetation was the first to suffer — every leaf and branch bleaching to ashen grey, crumbling to powder at the lightest touch.
Then Lu Nian noticed that Zhankong had stopped running. He stood rooted to the spot, his expression unreadable — as though he had caught sight of something that defied belief.
"You might want to look behind you," Zhankong said.
"Do you think this is some kind of children's game?!" Lu Nian snarled.
"Well. I warned you..."
The shock slowly drained from Zhankong's face. His keen eyes locked on Lu Nian — and on the pitch-black silhouette hurtling toward Lu Nian from behind, closing fast.