Shu Mingye's eyes narrowed as the air around him vibrated with faint crackles. Every breath carried the sting of electricity, and his skin prickled as if tiny needles brushed against it.
This wasn't ordinary lightning. It felt charged with intent, almost alive. He had never fought a lightning cultivator before. They were rare, spoken of in hushed tones. People said they carried the power of destruction itself, heaven's wrath made human. Now one stood calmly a few feet away. Linyue had been right. This man was not someone they could take lightly.
Shu Mingye's gaze shifted as another soldier was hurled backward. His armor dented just from the shockwave of a lightning strike. The lightning hadn't even touched him. It hit the ground nearby, and still, the impact had sent him flying.
The masked man had not moved at all. No fighting stance. No weapon. Just one hand raised slightly as if asking the lightning to come, and it obeyed without question.
Shu Mingye pressed his palm against the broken earth, channeling his spiritual energy until heat surged under his skin. Fire roared through his veins and sank deep into the ground beneath him. The air trembled. Trails of fire spread across the battlefield, racing straight toward the masked man. The flames hissed and snapped as they consumed everything in their path, lighting up the field in a searing red glow.
The masked man stayed exactly where he was. Not a twitch. Not a flicker of concern.
Then the hum began. It was faint at first. The moment Shu Mingye's fire reached the edge of the masked man's shadow, the ground came alive. A blinding column of lightning exploded upward with a deafening crack. White-blue energy ripped through the earth, splitting stone and soil apart. It collided with Shu Mingye's fire in a violent surge.
The impact was instant. A sound like a thousand drums echoed across the battlefield. Dirt and shattered rock blasted into the air. Unlucky tree roots, long buried, tore free and twisted midair before slamming back to the ground. Soldiers nearby were tossed aside, their weapons clattering uselessly on the stone. The shockwave slammed against the walls, rattling them hard enough to send loose bricks tumbling.
Shu Mingye raised his arm, blocking a chunk of flying debris as his robe whipped violently in the blast. His eyes narrowed as he stared through the swirling dust and sparks. When the haze began to thin, the masked man came into view. He was still standing in the same place. Hands clasped neatly behind his back. Not even a hair was out of place.
Shu Mingye, for the first time in a long time, felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind.
This masked man was no ordinary cultivator. He wasn't just strong. He was terrifying. He couldn't even sense his cultivation stage. It felt like staring into a deep lake and realizing you had no idea how far down it went. But he wasn't the type to step back just because someone was stronger. His pride wouldn't let him.
Flames erupted around him, forming a fiery barrier that danced around him in red waves. If the masked man wouldn't make the first move, then he would. He pushed forward, boots slamming against cracked stone as he charged.
The masked man raised a single hand. It was casual, almost lazy. Sparks snapped violently in the air, filling it with a sharp tang. Then the lightning came. Bolts rained down with blinding speed, crashing into the ground and shattering the stone beneath. White-blue streaks zigzagged across the battlefield, splitting the earth and filling the air with the sharp smell of burning soil.
Shu Mingye moved fast, weaving between strikes with precision. His fire barrier clashed with stray bolts, sending ripples of energy out with every hit. Shockwaves pushed against him, his boots sliding over broken ground, but he held his balance. His eyes locked on the masked man.
He was getting closer. He called his sword to his hand. Red flames roared along the blade, heat rolling off it in waves. He aimed for the masked man's side and swung with full force, fire crackling with each movement. Then something flickered in the air. A sword appeared in the masked man's hand. It was silver, thin, and elegant, with faint blue patterns glowing along the blade like wave. There was no rush, no show of effort. The masked man simply raised it.
Clang.
The two swords met in a burst of sound and light. Sparks flew as fire crashed against lightning. Shu Mingye gritted his teeth and leaned in, sending more spiritual energy surging into his blade. The air pressed tight around them as the clash sent shockwaves racing outward. Stone cracked under their feet.
The masked man turned his head. There were no eyes on the mask. No mouth. Just blank, cold white staring back. But Shu Mingye felt it. The gaze. He felt it like a weight pressing into his chest. It was the kind of gaze that didn't stop at flesh. It cut deeper, straight to the parts of him he didn't show anyone.
He answered with more fire. Flames flared hotter, rising high and wild around him. His blade blazed bright enough to burn spots into the vision of anyone watching.
The masked man moved. It was fast. One smooth, graceful swing. Lightning crackled to life along the silver blade, growing so bright it hurt to look at.
The moment the two blades collided again, the air exploded. The shockwave ripped across the battlefield, loud enough to make the air vibrate in Shu Mingye's chest. The ground split open under his feet, jagged cracks racing out in every direction. Flames shattered apart as lightning tore through them in wild bursts. Soldiers far from the fight were knocked flat, their weapons clattering uselessly on the stone. Dirt and broken stone shot into the air, raining back down like sharp hail.
A crushing weight slammed into Shu Mingye's body. His muscles locked, burning with pain. His arms shook violently as he tried to keep his grip on the sword. For one terrifying second, his fingers slipped, and he almost lost it. Lightning ran through his veins, cold and sharp, making it hard to breathe.
This was bad. Really bad.
Meanwhile, Linyue was sprinting straight for them. A hand shot out and caught her wrist, pulling her to a stop. She turned sharply, ready to react.
It was Shen Zhenyu.
"You should leave too," he said calmly, though his eyes flicked once to the battle ahead. "Yuying and Meiyu already ran back inside."
"I can't," Linyue said, her voice steady. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."
Shen Zhenyu's brows drew together. "Then I'll go with you."
"No." The word came out too fast, too sharp. "You can't fight him."
"Linyue," Shen Zhenyu said, his tone serious, "it's either we go back together or we fight together."
Linyue exhaled hard. She had forgotten how stubborn he could be. "Fine," she muttered. "But don't get too close."
Shen Zhenyu gave a small nod. "Deal."
Linyue took off again, her steps quick and precise. Shen Zhenyu followed closely, his pace steady but his eyes sharp on the chaos ahead.
The moment she looked up, her chest tightened.
Shu Mingye was locked in a clash with the masked man. His sword burned bright with roaring flames that lashed out violently. The masked man's blade crackled with lightning, streams of raw energy twisting around them. The entire field looked like it had been struck by a storm. The ground was split open in jagged lines, smoke rising from scorched patches of earth. Stones trembled under the weight of their power.
Linyue's breath caught in her throat.
Shu Mingye's fire flared hotter, waves of heat pulsing out as he pushed forward. But the masked man didn't even blink. His movements were calm, almost lazy. Then in one clean swing, he brought his sword down.
A deafening crack of thunder tore through the air. Lightning streaked across the ground, bright enough to blind. Shu Mingye's stance wavered as the blast hit him head-on. He stumbled back, boots sliding hard over the broken dirt.
Linyue's eyes went wide. This was worse than she thought.
Shu Mingye gritted his teeth, forcing his boots to dig into the cracked earth. He braced himself and straightened his arms, refusing to let the next wave push him down.
This was different. He had fought countless opponents, but this level of force was something new. His vision blurred for a second. He had to swallow down the blood rising in his throat. His body buzzed, every nerve tingling like fire ants were dancing under his skin. He gritted his teeth hard partly to stay upright, partly to keep his sword from trembling in his hand.
This power was not normal. It didn't feel like something a person should have. It felt like trying to fight the sky itself.