The Counterkill!

The assembled teachers stared wide-eyed. White-browed Teacher said, "He has a full three elements to cultivate. His Lightning and Fire are already advanced enough — if his Summoning Element has also reached intermediate level, this guy's cultivation speed is downright terrifying."

In the end, Mo Fan didn't use any intermediate-level Summoning Element magic, and every teacher present exhaled a collective sigh of relief.

*Thank heavens he doesn't have a Contract Beast.*

In truth, Mo Fan's Summoning Element had already reached intermediate level long ago. He could draw the corresponding Star Chart with practiced fluency. The problem was that he simply didn't have the funds to purchase a suitable Contract Beast. Among Contract Beasts, even the cheapest ones capable of growing to the level of a Swift Star Wolf cost upward of forty million — and buying a weaker cub that couldn't match one seemed pointless.

On the competition stage, Zhao Ji had broken out in a cold sweat.

The moment he confirmed Mo Fan truly had no Contract Beast, relief shifted to satisfaction, and he began to smile. This challenge had made waves across the entire school. If he were the one to finally put down this Great Demon Lord, it would be a tremendous boost to his reputation — and his family would surely regard him with far greater esteem.

Zhao Ji knew Mo Fan had little fighting strength left. He wasted no time giving him room to breathe. Intermediate Fire Element magic was already burning fiercely around his right fist.

Before igniting the spell, a curved arc of a light shield materialized around Zhao Ji's body — golden radiance forming a full 360 degrees of protection, a perfect ward encasing him within.

Mo Fan's basic-level spells, formidable as they were, couldn't break through Zhao Ji's Light Element defense. Worse, Zhao Ji was wielding a Spirit Grade light seed, which made his defensive capability considerably stronger.

The type of mage Mo Fan hated encountering most was someone dual-cultivating Fire and Earth. Light Element mages were equally unwelcome — Light magic could perfectly suppress his Shadow Element power.

"Qianjun — Thunderbolt: Yaksha!"

Mo Fan invoked his intermediate power directly. He angled a finger toward the night sky, and a massive purple-black Lightning Cloud materialized above Zhao Ji in an instant. Lightning crackled at Mo Fan's fingertip, and from within the cloud, a savage purple-black bolt blazed with blinding brilliance as it crashed toward the earth.

Midway through its descent, the bolt fractured into countless branching forks — a black demonic claw tearing the space apart, the air itself shuddering under the force.

Thunderbolt: Yaksha's power was staggering. Outside of Blazing Fist — Nine Palaces, it was arguably his most destructive spell. But Zhao Ji had been cunning. He seemed to have deliberately baited Mo Fan into burning through a Magical Energy-intensive intermediate spell. The moment he saw the lightning appear, he snuffed out the flames on his right fist and pivoted immediately to drawing Light Element magic.

"Light Grace — Painted Wall!"

Threads of golden light wove rapidly above Zhao Ji, forming a curved, floating barrier of radiant gold.

The Thunderbolt's full force crashed into that holy light wall — and was swallowed whole. The thunderclap that should have torn the arena apart was silenced without a sound.

The purple-black lightning was steadily broken apart, reduced to gossamer threads draped across the enormous Light Grace — Painted Wall. Strand by strand, they faded, until the last trace dissolved into nothing.

"Trying to finish me off in one blow?" Zhao Ji's smile turned sharp and cold. "After burning through an intermediate spell like that, how much do you have left to keep fighting?"

Mo Fan didn't bother responding to the taunt. He just stood there, looking utterly spent.

"Time to pay for your arrogance." Flames rekindled on Zhao Ji's right fist.

The ring of fire that had been spreading in all directions contracted, coiling back onto his wrist as he completed the Star Chart. The concentrated energy strained at the edge of release.

"Blazing Fist — Earth Fiend!"

Zhao Ji, too, was a powerhouse with Spirit Grade flames. His Blazing Fist — Earth Fiend matched Ah Li Yujie's in sheer destructive force.

Scarlet fire lit up the entire competition stage. Mo Fan had no choice but to raise the Nether Separation Shield and keep retreating, doing everything he could to stay clear of the catastrophic core of the blast.

The Shield absorbed most of the impact, but the scorching Earth Fiend petals still found him. Mo Fan's beloved shirt was incinerated in seconds, exposing a chest covered in burn marks. Flames washed over his entire body — had he not possessed an innate fire resistance, he'd have been left unrecognizable.

What the Nether Separation Shield could block was the core energy of the Earth Fiend flower, the kind of force capable of burning a body to ash. What it couldn't stop was the corrosive Spirit Seed flame clinging to Zhao Ji's attack, which carried a powerful, persistent burn.

Mo Fan was hurt. The flames made him wince, and several visible burn marks spread across his skin.

When Zhao Ji saw that he had drawn blood, a smile spread across his face. Victory felt close. The Light Grace — Painted Wall had already dissipated — one more strike, and the match was over.

The Earth Fiend flower still left a sprawling blaze roaring across the arena floor. Standing at the heart of that inferno with the Nether Separation Shield raised, Mo Fan was lit by the crimson firelight — and he was smiling. A strange, quiet smile.

Then — without any warning — a spear-like spike shot from the center of the Nether Separation Shield!!

The Nether Counter-Spike. The Shield's hidden counterattack.

It drove straight through the blazing Earth Fiend flower and, in the span of a blink, appeared before a still-gloating Zhao Ji.

The Nether Counter-Spike moved like a cold blade drawn through a dark night — savage and clean, slicing through the wall of crimson fire. Zhao Ji, still riding his confidence, never saw it coming. Only when a bone-deep chill capable of piercing through anything swept over him did he cry out in alarm.

"Stone Wall!"

From the referee's platform, Teacher Wei Rong reacted with startling speed — a current of brown elemental force surging into his hand.

No one saw him draw the Star Chart. A solid rock barrier simply appeared in front of Zhao Ji.

**Crack!!**

The Nether Counter-Spike drove into the stone defense with full force. Its tip stopped a hair's breadth from Zhao Ji's face.

Cold sweat poured from Zhao Ji in streams. He stood frozen, staring in disbelief at the stone wall that had saved him, then looking in terror at the spike that had nearly cost him his life.

"Zhao Ji," Wei Rong said with a cold snort, "if that had been a Demon-Beast, you'd already be dead. You've lost — get off the stage."

Zhao Ji looked like the ground had been pulled from under him. How had he not seen it coming? Mo Fan — who had appeared utterly drained of every last drop of fighting ability — had struck back like a dying scorpion, stinging at the very last moment. One instant of complacency, and he had lost a challenge that meant everything.

He raised his head and looked at Mo Fan, who still bore obvious burn marks across his body. With what little dignity he could muster after defeat, he said, "Getting him that hurt was good enough."