The cold wind howled through the shattered treeline, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood and ozone. Kai did not lower his steel saber. His vertical, icy-blue pupils remained locked onto High Priestess Ilya, his Draconic Sight frantically searching her form for any fluctuation, any weakness. But the elf monarch stood like an ancient mountain—silent, unyielding, and completely flawless."A glitch in the matrix?" Kai repeated, his voice deathly calm, masking the rapid calculation occurring behind his eyes. "You speak in riddles, elf. I don't have time for poetry. The Iron-Blood Sect's grand elders are ten minutes away, and my blade doesn't care about your ancient history."Ilya chuckled, a soft, crystalline sound that seemed to vibrate the very ambient mana around them. "The Iron-Blood Sect? Those shortsighted insects who think a Tier 5 cultivation makes them gods? They are already dead, little dragon. They just haven't stopped walking yet."She took a step forward. Instantly, K

High Priestess Ilya stared at the pile of steaming junk that had just been a Tier 6 elite golem, her starlight eyes widening a fraction of a millimeter. For the first time, her ancient, composed demeanor cracked, replaced by a dark, fascinated curiosity."Runic iron, shattered by a mortal fist," Ilya murmured, stepping over the debris. "You don't just bypass the laws of cultivation, Kai. You rewrite them.""I told you," Kai said, his voice grating like shifting tectonic plates as the newly acquired Runic Iron Body trait settled deep into his cellular structure. His skin took on a faint, almost imperceptible metallic sheen under the magma’s glow. "The rules don't apply to me. Now, open the vault. My time is ticking."Ilya didn't argue. She led them past the shattered guardian toward the end of the obsidian balcony, where a massive, circular vault door stood embedded in the volcanic rock. The door was forged from a pitch-black metal that seemed to absorb the ambient light, its surface c