Before Malthor could finish speaking, Cyran had already stopped arguing with him. Cyran’s figure blurred, then appeared beside Dustin. His withered hand lightly pressed against Dustin’s back.
A stream of pure, vibrant spiritual energy flowed into Dustin, steady and unbroken, filling the hollows of his nearly exhausted body.
Though it shared the same lineage as his mystical pure energy, Cyran’s spiritual energy was much purer and refined. It not only repaired his injuries at remarkable speed but also nourished the very essence he had burned through.
“Focus your mind, young friend. I’ll help you with your recovery,” Cyran said quietly.
Warmth spread through Dustin’s entire body. The internal injuries from withstanding Malthor’s dual-element attack and the strain on his spirit were healing at an incredible pace.
The exhaustion from consecutive battles vanished, and his depleted energy reserves rapidly refilled. In mere moments, he had recovered over 70% of his strength. He was shocked that Cyran’s cultivation went far beyond anything he could measure.
“Thank you, sir,” Dustin said earnestly. The sight enraged Malthor Cyran’s actions were nothing less than an open challenge and a betrayal.
“Fine. Since you’re all so eager to die, I’ll send you all on your way,” he spat.
Malthor’s fury exploded. He stopped speaking since there was nothing left to say. Dark gold and platinum light flared across his body, intertwining into a towering column of deadly energy that shot straight toward the palace ceiling.
He thrust both hands forward and shouted, “Metal Flame Cataclysm! Annihilation of All Things!”
A deafening roar shook the entire Elysium Immortal Palace.
Around Malthor, dark gold soul-scorching flames and platinum annihilating energy surged outward like a tidal wave. Wherever the flames passed, stone melted and metal liquefied. The annihilating energy cut through everything in its path-beams collapsed, columns crumbled, walls exploded.
The decadent wine pools evaporated instantly, and the towering meat racks turned to char. Men and women indulging in pleasure didn’t even have time to scream before being reduced to ashes in the soul-scorching flames.
It seemed like the entire grand hall would collapse and be erased under this single attack.
“Let’s join forces!” Cyran shouted, lifting his staff into the air. Thousands of silver threads shimmered and spread outward, forming a massive arcane sigil in front of them. The glowing pattern acted as a shield, holding back the onslaught of Malthor’s devastating golden flames.
The sigil spun slowly, flowing through cycles of opposing force. It constantly broke down and neutralized the raging golden flames.
Even Terraen had stopped laughing. His small face grew serious as he formed hand seals and muttered incantations under his breath.
The stone floor beneath him softened and bulged upward, reshaping into a solid, earth-colored wall. It rose behind the arcane sigil like a shield of the earth itself, bracing against the shockwave spilling over.
Without hesitation, Dustin’s mystical pure energy, now flowing freely through him, surged like a raging dragon. His longsword emitted a clear, piercing cry. He moved as one with the blade, becoming a streak of cyan light that tore through the chaos.
Instead of confronting the torrent of golden flame, he shot through a narrow gap torn open by Cyran’s sigil. His movement was precise and deadly, aiming straight for Malthor’s body.
At the tip of his sword, all he had learned of the sword path converged into a single, piercing point of extreme cold. It was as if it could cut through every illusion in the world.
“Eradicate evil with a single strike!” Dustin shouted. Malthor hadn’t expected them to move with such seamless coordination, their offense and defense perfectly intertwined. With a roar, he was forced to split his attention to counter Dustin’s deadly, unpredictable strike.
His left hand formed a solid shield from the annihilating energy, ready to block any strike. With his right, he shaped the soul-scorching flames into several fire dragons that shot straight toward Dustin.
The sword and shield collided with a deafening clash, sending sparks flying Fire dragons slammed into Dustin’s protective sword aura and erupted into balls of flame.
Almost instantly, a chaotic battle erupted among the four. Cyran held fast to defense, weaving the arcane sigil to absorb Malthor’s wide-reaching assaults.
Terraen moved to support him. His earth element techniques alternated between raising massive shields to block the attacks and summoning stone spikes to throw Malthor off balance.
Dustin pressed the offensive, his sword flashing like lightning, and moved as swiftly as the wind. He circled Malthor, hunting for any opening, launching relentless, unstoppable attacks.
Golden light ripped through the air, while flames scorched the sky. Cyan energy streaked in all directions, and the earth. itself roared. The Elysium Immortal Palace had become their battlefield. The once-majestic halls shattered at a terrifying pace.
The massive dome was pierced by countless holes from stray energy blasts, revealing the churning, malevolent sky outside. The giant pillars supporting the hall collapsed one after another, stirring clouds of dust. The ground cracked, crisscrossed with fissures as if struck by a massive earthquake.
Grace had already fallen back to the far edge of the formation, relying on the remnants of the protective array to keep herself safe. She could only stare in disbelief at the battle raging before her, utterly stunned.
So this was the true power of an Immortal Demon. With a single wave of Malthor’s hand, mountains crumbled, and the palace itself seemed ready to collapse
She couldn’t deny his terrifying strength, or the devastating force of his mastery over both metal and fire. Yet no matter what he did, the trio moved in perfect sync, countering him at every turn
Cyran’s defenses deflected most of his attacks. Terraen’s constant interference kept him from going all out, and Dustin’s elusive, razor-sharp sword kept him on edge, genuinely threatened.
Even Malthor’s dark-black war robe was torn. A faint trickle of dark-gold blood ran from the corner of his mouth. His energy wave, once as deep and unfathomable as the sea, had clearly faltered. He was now on the defensive.
“Damn it! How dare you miserable pests injure me!” Malthor roared, his eyes wild with fury and resentment.
He unleashed a massive wave of golden flame to force the three k momentarily Staggering, his face darkened with a terrifying storm of anger.
Dustin and the others closed in, forming a triangular formation around him. Their bodies were tired from the fight, but their momentum hadn’t faltered.
Malthor was running on his last reserves of energy. The tide of battle was tipping, and victory was starting to slip from his grasp.
