Jared’s punches seemed almost languid, yet each one found the tiny gaps in Rylan’s defenses. Every deliberate strike churned the commander’s blood and rattled the cage of his ribs.
Bang! Crack! Thud! Golden arcs of raw spiritual energy splashed across the martial arts arena. Every time Jared’s foot struck the iron-gray paving, the stone buckled, leaving craters that smoked under the pressure of his weight.
The surrounding Imperial Guards stared, transfixed. A cultivator of Earthly Immortal Realm Level One was holding his own against Realm, an Earthly Immortal Realm Level Eight powerhouse, and was, unbelievably, beginning to press the advantage.
Yuliana let out a breath hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Jared wasn’t only fast and strong, his battlefield poise was surgical, each blow dropping precisely where it ruptured Rylan’s rhythm.
The longer they traded, the more Rylan’s surprise fermented into rage. He felt as though every punch sank into cotton, his brute force found no anchor. Jared’s speed blurred beyond his reach, and when their bodies collided, the recoil left Rylan’s forearms tingling and half-numb.
Worse, Jared seemed to read his intent a heartbeat early, sliding away or countering before the strike had fully formed.
“Enough! I’ll bleed you dry!” Rylan roared.
The Draconian bloodline blazed open inside him. His frame ballooned, muscles knotting beneath skin that turned a storm-cloud blue.
A pair of vast, leathery wings uncoiled from his back; fingers fused into obsidian talons; his pupils burned a murderous scarlet.
A ripple of elation tore through the ranks of the Imperial Guards.
“Dragon Transformation!”
“Commander Drake means business!”
“Look at that! Nobody survives once unleashes it. His power doubles, triples!”
They shouted, fists pumping against breastplates.
It was true, Dragon Transformation was Rylan’s trump card. With the wings out, could wrestle even Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine cultivators to a standstill.
“Mr. Chance, watch out!” Yuliana shouted, worry slicing through earlier composure. She knew how terrifying Rylan was with Dragon Transformation.
Facing the ascended Rylan, Jared’s gaze sharpened. A flicker of gravity crossed his features, quickly eclipsed by a spark of exhilaration.
Hovering on beating wings, Rylan gathered twin orbs of molten gold between his claws, each one pulsing with enough destructive intent to raze a fortress.
“Brat, die!” snarled, hurling the spheres.
Mid-flight, the spheres fractured into dozens of smaller comets, a glittering barrage that screamed toward Jared like a golden hailstorm.
Jared pushed off the cracked floor, somersaulting into the air. Spins, rolls, and sharp twists let most of the projectiles hiss past his jacket. He smashed the last few with naked fists, shards of light exploding around his knuckles. Yet before his boots kissed the ground, Rylan blinked in front of him, draconic talons slashing for his skull.
“Perfect timing!” Jared barked. Instead of retreating, drove forward, both fists colliding with the descending claws.
Boom!
Jared skidded backward five full steps, pain crawling from elbow to fingertip.
Rylan fared little better, it felt as if had tried to claw pure diamond. Numbness crept up his arms, and even his great wings faltered.
“H-How can your physical body be this strong?” Rylan gasped.
Once had activated Dragon Transformation, few weapons could dent him, yet Jared’s bare knuckles had nearly broken his grip.
Jared offered no answer. He flexed the tingling muscles in his forearms once, then lunged again, a silver streak against a turquoise storm.
This time, there was no sidestepping, only brute collision. Fists against claws, gold spiritual energy against teal draconic energy. The martial arts arena drowned beneath convulsive waves of power.
The gathered Imperial Guards watched with open mouths, hearts battering ribs. That was no friendly spar, it was open war for survival.
Another thunderclap split the arena.
Steel-tipped boots screeched across god-iron tiles as Jared and Rylan crashed together once more, raw force ringing like hammered anvils.
Bang!
Both men staggered back several paces, heels gouging fresh fissures through the supposedly unbreakable floor.
