“Five-Element Sword Domain, open!” A deep hum rippled through the gorge. Color splintered across the darkness—emerald, sapphire, crimson, gold, and ivory blades of light, swelling into a vast, prismatic sphere nearly a hundred yards wide.
Inside that sphere, countless razor-slender streams of sword aura erupted, slashing in wild, elegant patterns. Time thickened to syrup; space bent like soft glass.
Every demon trapped within, whether Level One or Five, found their limbs mired in invisible amber. Demonic essence clogged in their veins, while the omnipresent, merciless currents of the Five-Element Sword Domain carved at flesh, armor, and soul without pause.
A wall of shrieks ripped through Jared’s sword domain. The air itself seemed to wail.
Jared lifted one hand and intoned, “Time Acceleration. Spatial Fold!”
The words clipped out like a judge’s gavel.
Space thickened and shuddered. Within the crackling halo, his figure flashed—here, there, gone—each jump stitched by the Dragonslayer Sword’s cold, silver-black afterglow.
The sword moved quicker than memory. Wherever it reappeared, a demonic cultivator died—throats pierced, heads spinning away, whole torsos shredded into drifting scarlet mist.
He hunted the mid-tier Heavenly Immortal ranks first, culling their backbone. One terrified cultivator raised a Soul Shield; a single downward stroke sliced the shield and the wielder clean in half.
Another, body flickering with Ghost-Shadow Footwork, found his motions slowed by Jared’s warped time field. The Dragonslayer Sword punched through his heart core, and the soul behind his eyes guttered out.
Beside Jared, the small Fire Unicorn loosed a thunderous roar. Magma-bright Unicorn Sacred Flame poured from its maw, searing every demon who tried to flee the perimeter.
Fire and holy power entwined; touch alone turned flesh to ash, screams to silence.
One man and one unicorn charged like a tiger into lambs. Formations shattered. The Infinite Soul Demon Sect’s once-proud ranks collapsed into stumbling, panicked knots.
The two commanders, green flames and bone staff in hand, lunged to break the domain.
Garrick, blood still leaking from earlier wounds, roared and locked the Green-Flame Skull master in place.
Jared strode straight for the captain twirling the Mourning Bone Staff, eyes like winter stars.
“Die, whelp! Ten-Thousand-Soul Howl!” The bone staff blurred like a windmill. A cyclone of wailing shades slammed toward Jared.
He answered with a single, frost-flat word. “Noisy…”
The Dragonslayer Sword thrust forward, almost leisurely. Space folded around the tip; the soul-storm parted like torn cloth. The blade kissed the staff’s ivory shaft.
Crack!
The Mourning Bone Staff split down the center, splinters spinning away. The commander spat black blood, eyes rounded with terror.
Jared’s wrist flicked. A razor thread of sword force darted out, punched through the man’s heart, and detonated—organs, spirit, and hope shredded into nothingness.
The second commander stared at the ruin of his comrade, courage draining. He feinted, twisted, and bolted.
Jared let out a contemptuous snort. Two fingers rose, drawing an invisible edge.
“Space Rift!”
A hair-thin black fissure blossomed across the fleeing path.
The commander noticed half a heartbeat too late. The rift swallowed half his body, cut the scream in two, and erased him from the world.
With their leader felled, the remaining demonic cultivators broke down. Jared and the small Fire Unicorn hounded the fugitives through smoke and rubble, while Garrick’s wounded disciples rose for one last countercharge.
In less time than a prayer, every last invader lay broken or burned.
Silence followed, an eerie, post-battle hush broken only by the crackle of lingering flames and the low, ragged sobs of the wounded. Blood and charred flesh mingled in the air, so thick it felt oily on the tongue.
