"Someone is coming," Belle whispered, her voice tight with a tension Huang Wen hadn't heard in weeks.
Her telekinesis, now harmonized with the boundless vitality of the Regeneration Dragon Chapter, had surpassed the raw sensory range of Huang Wen's own internal energy. She wasn't just hearing the wind; she was feeling the displacement of the atmosphere itself. "High up. Someone isn't just jumping, Wen... they're gliding. Like they own the sky."
Huang Wen's eyes sharpened. This far into the wilderness, you didn't just stumble upon hikers. "Silly Girl! Full integration. Standard combat protocols," he commanded under his breath.
[Copy that, Brother Wen. Initiating transmission.]
As the digital essence of Silly Girl merged with his meridian system, Huang Wen felt his perception expand. The world turned into a high-definition map of energy signatures. And there, cutting through the clouds at a speed that would make a predator drone jealous, was a silhouette.
"Don't be scared," Huang Wen said, reaching out to catch Belle's hand. Her grip was firm. Over the last three months, while they traveled, Huang Wen hadn't been idle. He had milked the system for every "mortal-tier" mission possible, performing mundane feats of strength or protecting local villages from bandits just to stack up draws.
The results had been fruitful. He had passed the character package of Ip Man to Belle, giving her the foundational muscle memory of a Wing Chun master to complement her massive telekinetic reserves. For himself, he had recently pulled a hidden gem: the character package of Yixiantian, the razor-sharp Grandmaster of Northern Bajiquan. It wasn't just a boost in energy; it was a shift in philosophy. If Wing Chun was the needle, Bajiquan was the sledgehammer. He couldn't wait to see how the Hulk would handle the "Six Opening Doors" of Baji.
Swish!
The air above them detonated with a sonic boom as a figure descended, landing with a feather-light grace that contradicted the sheer power of the arrival.
The man stood in a loose, flowing robe that seemed to defy the freezing temperatures. His hair was long and unkempt, his beard thick, but his eyes were the most striking feature—they were pits of ancient, calculated malice.
"Mutants?" The man spoke, his voice sounding like dry parchment rubbing together. He tilted his head, looking at them like a scientist examining a strange new mold. "No. No, the frequency is wrong. You don't have that frantic, bleeding aura of the X-gene. You're... focused."
He began to pace in a circle, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was talking to strangers in the middle of nowhere. "I was in the middle of my meditation, you know? Deep in the mountain. My subordinates—idiots, the lot of them—managed to wake me up because they couldn't figure out how to keep the cash flowing while Stark was missing. Truly pathetic."
The man sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "I was going to kill them all and go back to sleep. But then I felt it. A surge of refined energy, dancing across the tundra. I haven't felt a signature this clean in nearly a century."
"Look, I hate to be the one to tell you this," Huang Wen interrupted, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm, "but usually, when you meet people, you say 'hello' before launching into your life story. Did the solitude break your social filter, or are you just naturally this chatty?"
The man stopped pacing. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "Ah, the arrogance of the young. It's understandable. If you've spent a lifetime in the dark, seeing a person face-to-face makes the tongue wag. You'll have to forgive my lack of etiquette."
Huang Wen didn't care about the apology. His gaze had locked onto the man's hands. Ten rings. Five on each hand. Heavy, ornate bands that didn't just look like jewelry—they hummed with a specific, rhythmic vibration that made Huang Wen's skin crawl.
The Mandarin.
The real one. Not the actor Tony would eventually face in some drug-induced fever dream, but the ancient warlord of the Ten Rings. The man who had orchestrated the kidnapping of the world's most famous billionaire was standing on a patch of dirt in North Asia, complaining about his sleep schedule.
"Oh?" The Mandarin's eyes narrowed as he followed Huang Wen's gaze. "You recognize the jewelry. Interesting. I haven't walked among the commoners in quite some time. Did you cross paths with my children? Is that why my recent operation in the desert went so sideways?"
"Your 'imagination' is about as outdated as your wardrobe," Huang Wen retorted, stepping slightly in front of Belle. "Maybe the mountain air thinned your blood. You're making connections that don't exist because you're bored."
The Mandarin's smile didn't reach his eyes. "In all my years, boy, you are the first to call me 'boring.' And you do it while knowing exactly who I am. I came out here to see what kind of insect dared to fly over my sanctuary... but I think I've found something better."
He held up his hands, the rings glowing with a faint, ominous light. "You and the girl. You have two paths. One: you kneel. You become the high-tier enforcers the Ten Rings is currently lacking. You serve me, and I give you a world to play in. Two: you become part of the permafrost. I'm not picky."
"You're a bit full of yourself, aren't you?" Belle snapped, her telekinetic aura flaring up like a physical shield. "We were just walking. You're the one who crashed the party. Why would we work for a guy who lives in a cave and talks to himself?"
The Mandarin let out a cold, sharp laugh. "The difference is power, child. If you weren't special, you'd already be dead. My patience is a very finite resource."
Huang Wen felt a familiar prompt in his mind. The System was sensing the stakes.
[Mission Generated: Sir, Times Have Changed.] [Objective: Show the Mandarin that ancient titles don't mean squat in the modern age.] [Reward for Defeat: One Legendary Skill Draw.] [Reward for Kill: One Legendary Character Draw.] [Accept?]
Accept, Huang Wen thought, his blood starting to simmer. He looked at the Mandarin, his eyes turning into shards of ice. "You call yourself a god? I've met gods. Some of them are my friends. You? You're just an old man who found some shiny toys in a crash site."
"Resisting? How refreshing," the Mandarin sneered.
Bang!
Without a second of warning, Huang Wen flicked his fingers. Acupoint Striking from a Distance. The Mandarin's body seized instantly. His limbs locked, and his breathing hitched as the invisible needles of qi slammed into his nervous system. For a normal master, this would be the end of the fight. Even Magneto had been slowed by this.
But the Mandarin wasn't normal. He let out a low grunt, and the rings on his right hand pulsed with a violet light. The energy surged through his body like a cleansing fire, forcibly resetting his meridians in less than a second.
"Acupuncture?" The Mandarin looked at his own hands, genuinely surprised. "I haven't seen a practitioner of the internal arts this skilled in decades. Your 'Acupoint' technique is refined... but my internal energy is an ocean, and yours is a pond. I think I'll take that technique from your corpse."
The Mandarin flicked his left thumb.
Suddenly, the air around Huang Wen became heavy—unnaturally heavy. It felt as if the gravity of the entire planet had decided to focus solely on his shoulders. The ground beneath his feet cracked as he was pressed downward.
"Die in the gravity well," the Mandarin commanded.
"Not today!" Huang Wen roared. He didn't fight the gravity; he overpowered it.
Indestructible Vajra Divine Art!
His skin took on a subtle, golden sheen, and his physical mass seemed to densify. With a thunderous shout, he shattered the gravitational lock and launched himself into the sky like a golden bullet.
The Mandarin's eyes widened. The gravity ring was one of his most reliable tools. He quickly pointed his index finger at the ascending Huang Wen. A beam of white-hot, concentrated fire erupted from the ring, turning the falling snowflakes into steam instantly.
"Fire? You want to play with fire?"
Huang Wen didn't dodge. He brought his hands together, channeling the frost-bitten energy of the North and the searing qi of his own core. Ice and Fire Palm!
He slammed a palm forward, unleashing a counter-blast of flame that was so pure it burned white. The two beams collided in mid-air, creating a shockwave that flattened the surrounding trees and sent a wall of snow rushing outward like a tsunami.