The Elemental Titan did not relent; it attacked Raja without pause. Some blows landed when he was too slow to evade, though he managed to strike back as well. Yet the beast's resilience was monstrous—its magma shell regenerated faster than his blade could carve. Each strike echoed like thunder, heat searing the gorge, forcing cracks across the stone. Sweat streamed down Raja's face, his breath ragged, his arms trembling from the relentless exchange. He needed something greater. Something devastating.
Dodging another fatal strike, Raja prepared to unleash one of the strongest techniques in his arsenal, a divine flame law taught to him by his father: the Flaming Palm Barrage. His cultivation was far too low to withstand its full scale, so he could only manifest a single palm. Hopefully, that would be enough.
His aura shifted. Shadow vanished, flame surged, then fused together. The gorge dimmed as black fire coiled upward, forming a colossal hand of annihilation flame. The cultivators gasped, shielding themselves from the heat.
But the hand was not merely fire—it was law. Every ember in the gorge bent toward it, every flicker subdued beneath its decree. Even the Titan, born of magma and flame, faltered as its core quivered in recognition. Cultivators felt their own flame qi recoil; some gasped as their inner cores trembled, bowing to a higher order. For a heartbeat, the gorge itself seemed to kneel, molten veins glowing in submission before the decree of annihilation.
The magma beast roared, sensing the danger. It charged, molten claws tearing through the air. Raja gritted his teeth, pouring every thread of qi into the palm. His meridians screamed, his body trembled, but he refused to stop.
The colossal flaming palm descend, slamming into the beast, shadow‑fire erupting in a shockwave that fractured the gorge. Molten rivers exploded into steam, stone walls split even further, and cultivators were hurled backward by the force. The beast shrieked, its magma shell shattering, blue fire spilling from its wounds.
For a moment, it seemed the palm had crushed it entirely. The beast staggered, its body collapsing under the weight of the strike. Raja fell to one knee, drained, his qi flickering like a dying ember. His vision blurred, his breath ragged.
Unfortunately, the beast didn't die from that attack. It rose again.
Its bulk condensed, molten stone folding inward until it stood as a humanoid figure clad in armor of blue fire. Its furnace eyes blazed brighter, its speed terrifying. In a blur, it struck—blades of magma. This was no longer brute force but precision, flame sharpened into killing intent.
Raja's shadow twin sabers flashed, blocking strike after strike, but the Titan's fury overwhelmed him. Each attack hammered him backward, molten fists and blades crashing against his defenses until he was driven into the stone, bloodied.
"Is this it? Will I die without proving to my father that I am strong?" The thought flickered as the world tilted into darkness, and consciousness slipped away.
The Titan seized the youth in a single, fluid motion, its blade rising for the fatal strike. From afar, the cultivators held their breath—certain that this prodigy, this boy who had defied the impossible, was finished.
Then the air split.
A radiant slash cleaved through the gorge, faster than sight. The beast froze mid‑motion, its armor shattering like glass. In a single stroke, its body collapsed into fragments of molten stone, its core extinguished. Silence fell.
Standing amidst the ruin was a young man, cradling Raja with unexpected tenderness. He looked no older than thirty, yet the aura around him was immeasurable, suffocating in its depth. This was Jalen. Though he had sworn never to interfere with his son's cultivation journey, a father could not simply abandon his children to fate. To honor his promise yet guard their lives, he dispatched shadow clones to follow them in silence, fragments of his will that lingered unseen. Through those shadows he watched, ready to appear the instant danger crossed the line between trial and death. And fortunately, he had—for without him, Raja would have been lost.
The cultivators stared in shock. They could not pierce his realm, yet the truth was undeniable: with a single stroke, he had annihilated a peak Imperial Realm beast. At first, they whispered that he must belong to a realm beyond Imperial, judging by the power he unleashed. But then doubt silenced them—such a thing was impossible. The formation of law that bound this place forbade entry to anyone above the Imperial Realm. And so they were left with only questions, their minds reeling at the paradox before them.
Jalen's hand brushed across Raja's blood‑stained face, his expression unreadable. His voice was low, yet it carried across the gorge like a decree.
"Foolish boy," he murmured. "Do you wish to impress me so desperately you would throw away your life? Do you want the world to call me negligent? And yet… you fought beyond your limits. You make me proud."
Then the gorge pulsed. From the shattered beast's remains rose a prize—a blue flaming orb, swirling with ancient flame qi energy. Its aura was intoxicating, a treasure beyond imagination, a fatal temptation for all flame cultivators. Several cultivators, driven by greed, rushed forward to seize it.
They never reached it.
The moment they crossed its boundary, their bodies vaporized into ash. The orb rejected them, its flame law absolute. Only the one who had slain the beast was worthy.
Jalen extended his hand. The orb drifted into his palm, its glow dimming as it recognized him. Without hesitation, he used Flash Reverse to exit the gorge.
The gorge fell silent.
Those who remained whispered in awe and fear.
"Who was he?"
"He called that boy son...
"Not even thirty… yet stronger than any of us."
"I wonder what sect produced those two powerful prodigies?"
None had answers. Only questions. And the memory of a single slash that shattered a beast and changed the fate of the gorge forever.