Balfar Mohr.Even hearing the name made young cultivators in the Eastern Lands feel a chill, as if the air itself had thickened. And now, standing in the heart of the Ten Dragon Retreat, he wasn’t just some legend whispered about in secret—he was real. Tangible. A presence that made the world pause.The young man in the flowing green robe moved with effortless calm, the kind of certainty that only comes from surviving countless battles unscathed. A prodigy. Known by all, seen by few. Yet his gaze—lazy, almost casual—seemed to strip the world bare, taking in every detail, every soul in the room.He was about seventeen or eighteen, like Dathric Valen, but the aura he carried was entirely different. Dathric radiated rigid, commanding strength; Balfar Mohr exuded something softer, more mysterious, like the wind curling around mountains—impossible to grasp, almost impossible to comprehend.“This is the Ten Dragon Retreat,” Balfar said, his voice steady and calm, not a trace of arrogance. T

“Hum…”Crimsonlotus lifted her slender arm in a sweeping arc, flowing into the Moon-Embracing posture. Her crimson mystic power surged like a tidal wave, unstoppable and wild. Behind her, the deep-silver Spirit Core Moon floated gently, casting a luminous glow that made her look like a goddess had just stepped down from the heavens. Honestly, it was breathtaking.“Rumble…”In an instant, a full-moon illusion ignited beneath her strike, hovering in the void as it belonged there, radiating an energy that made everyone pause just to stare.“Boom!”From Caelyra’s hands, brilliant seven-colored light burst forth, twisting and dancing like a rainbow caught in a storm. If Crimsonlotus was a goddess bathed in moonlight, Caelyra was a rainbow phoenix soaring above the clouds, wings spreading wide across the sky.At the center of the Ancient Golden Battle Platform, the two women unleashed their power with no holding back. Every strike, every motion, was sharp, deliberate. Neither hesitated, not

Steel screamed through the air.Clang.The sound hadn’t even finished echoing when a streak of purple sword light ripped across space, fast and vicious, like lightning tearing open a storm-heavy sky. No warning. No buildup. One blink, it wasn’t there—next blink, it was already falling.If thunder was destiny, then this strike was the sentence being carried out.By the time danger registered, it was already too late.Volkrin Ashfire felt it in that razor-thin instant.The purple light came straight for him, sharp enough to slice the air apart. He knew right away—dodging was pointless. His body, as monstrous as it was, simply wasn’t faster than that blade.And yet… he laughed.A raw, booming laugh burst from his chest. His weathered face twisted into a feral grin, veins standing out along his neck. There was no fear in his eyes. No hesitation. Just pure thrill.“So fast!” he bellowed. “If I can’t dodge it, then I’ll smash it!”Boom.Earth-yellow mystic power detonated from his dantian, f

The Ancient Golden Battle Platform thrummed with life, vibrating under the weight of anticipation. Every inch of it seemed electric, like the air itself was holding its breath. The final five contenders had withdrawn into silent cultivation, but the tension didn’t ease—not for a single heartbeat.Tens of thousands of young disciples from the First Main City were scattered across the stands, eyes sharp, bodies taut, every nerve coiled. Not a single person left. No one dared.Some whispered nervously, tossing guesses back and forth. Others folded into their own cultivation, trying to ride the spiritual currents that drifted invisibly through the air. But most just stared—unblinking—at the top five. Awe, excitement, and a quiet acknowledgment that they were witnessing something extraordinary reflected in their faces.Amid the crowd, one expression stood out. Peyron Scarlet’s face was a mask of disbelief and humiliation. His eyes flitted across the platform, each glance stabbing at his pr

“Roar!”The sound tore across the battlefield like a living thing, bursting from the blinding blue light. Fierce. Terrifying. Yet… restrained. Almost calm. But Darian Kaelthorn’s heart hammered. Calm before a storm was never truly calm. It was a warning—a promise of something far worse than anyone could guess.Three heavy breaths. Then the overwhelming azure glow began to fade. And there he was. Yuran Serpentis, standing again—but changed.“The Cailor Demon Emperor Python… is gone.”Darian’s eyes widened. The monstrous serpent, ten paces long, had vanished as if it had never existed. But Yuran knew the truth.It hadn’t disappeared. It had merged with him.Now, the creature’s body draped Yuran like living armor—blue-black scales, sharp and ancient, writhing as if alive. A coiled serpent made flesh and death, each scale humming with dark, demonic energy. It was cruel, beautiful, terrifying.Every inch of it pulsed with the python’s power. The creature had become a weapon, tripling Yuran