Shen Haoran walked slowly across the charred, uneven earth of the battlefield, his footsteps light yet intentional.

Around him, the air was a thick slurry of sulfur, iron, and the lingering heat of the Gold Incinerating Supreme Flame.

He moved with a detached serenity, his golden eyes scanning the horizon not for threats, but for the deeper patterns of the conflict.

But at that moment, the sky above him seemed to fracture as a massive hammer, easily the size of a carriage and seems to be forged from heavy, dark meteoric iron, suddenly descended from the sky with the force of a mountain.

The sonic boom of its descent pulverized the loose gravel seconds before the weapon itself could make contact.

However, Haoran didn’t even lift a finger.

His body simply instinctively activated the Unbreakable Diamond Sacred Technique. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

And in an instant, his skin hummed with a translucent, golden-grey radiance, and a geometric forcefield of absolute spiritual density surrounded him, acting as an impenetrable shell.

When the hammer struck the barrier, the sound was not a thud but a high-pitched, metallic ring that sent a shockwave ripple through the air, flattening the surrounding fires.

The hammer bounced back, the recoil nearly shattering the arms of the one who swung it.

Haoran nodded at this, his expression one of clinical observation rather than relief.

Actually, he was using this battlefield to test every battle technique that he knows, as he rarely gets the chance to actually use them in battle against opponents who aren’t already suppressed by his mere presence.

In the secluded halls of the Shen Clan, spar partners were either too protective or too outmatched; here, amidst the desperate fury of the barbarians and the raw physical power of the Wilderness, he could push the limits of his repertoire.

And the quality of the battle techniques he learned was even better than he expected.

Each form, each circulation of qi, felt perfectly integrated into his soul, resonating with a potency that exceeded the ancient scrolls’ descriptions.

"It’s you!" a voice, ragged and dripping with a pathological hatred, screamed through the settling dust.

It was Tang Shan, the one who had unleashed the hammer, roared at him, his eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted in a mask of agony and rage.

"It was because of you! It was because of you that we lost that tournament! Because of you, I lost Ah Ruo! It is all your fault! And I will make you pay for this! My life was destroyed the moment you stepped onto that stage!"

Haoran frowned, his gaze landing on the man with a look of genuine, albeit cold, confusion as he tilted his head slightly, his golden hair catching the dim light. "I don’t even know who you are."

That statement, delivered with such flat, unbothered honesty, seemed to anger Tang Shan even more.

The realization that his life’s obsession, the man he had cursed every night for years, didn’t even remember his existence was a humiliation more painful than the hammer’s recoil.

"Die!" he shrieked, his voice breaking as he surged forward.

He raised his hammer once again, the dark metal beginning to glow with a sickly, pulsating violet light.

But at that moment, before he could bring the weapon down, a concentrated beam of silver and purple light descended from above and hit him square in the chest.

The impact caused an explosion of high-frequency spiritual energy that sent Tang Shan flying hundreds of meters away, his body tumbling through several ruined stone pillars before coming to a stop in a cloud of debris.

Then, Qian Yunxi landed softly a step behind Haoran, her six translucent wings hummed with a crystalline sound as they folded behind her back.

"Young master," she said, her voice respectful but firm, "please allow me to handle that guy. He and we, the Spirit Hall, have a score to settle. His betrayal is not just a personal matter, it is a stain on the honor of our region."

Haoran turned his head slightly, seeing the icy determination in the girl’s eyes, and he saw the way her hand gripped her rapier, her knuckles white.

"Do whatever you want," he replied simply, stepping aside to give her the path.

Qian Yunxi nodded thankfully, her gaze fixed on the distance, then with a sharp snap of her wings, she flew towards Tang Shan, who had already gotten up, shakily pushing aside a fallen slab of marble and coughing blood.

The violet light around him flickered dangerously, reflecting his unstable state.

Her wings fluttered, and she hovered a few meters away from him, the silver light of her inherited Spirit Hall cultivation technique creating a stark contrast to the gloom of the battlefield.

"It has been many years, hasn’t it? Tang Shan," she spoke, her voice echoing with the authority of the Saintess of Spirit Hall.

Tang Shan wiped the dark, viscous blood from his lips with the back of his hand and glared at her, his face was a patchwork of scars and dirt. "Qian Yunxi... you’re also responsible. You and your Spirit Hall, with your ’justice’ and your ’traditions.’ I will never let any of you go! I will watch this entire region burn to the ground!"

Qian Yunxi stared at the hammer in his hand, noticing the ancient runes etched into the metal. "That hammer... is it the inherited spirit of the Tang Clan? The legendary Sky-Render? To think you would use your ancestor’s pride to serve the monsters that razed your own home. However, even with that, you still won’t be able to beat me, just like that tournament years ago. You were second then, and you are far less than that now."

"Don’t be arrogant!" Tang Shan roared, his eyes glowing with a malevolent, purple fire. "I am not the same person from back then! I have touched the true power of the underworld!"

His aura surged, no longer a clean, human qi but a roiling, oily mass of energy as the pressure increased, revealing that he was already at the 1st stage of the Nascent Soul Realm.

However, his aura was incredibly dark and sickening, smelling of rot and stagnant blood.

Qian Yunxi’s eyes widened, a look of profound horror crossing her face. "You... That aura... You have become a demonic cultivator!? You’ve traded your soul and your humanity for a shortcut to power!"

Tang Shan grinned, showing teeth stained black by his own corrupted qi. "It’s all worth it if I can get my revenge! To see the Central Region geniuses scream and the Spirit Hall crumble! And that’s not all... I have also taught this demonic cultivation method to that giant chief. He was a fool, but a hungry one. Once he feels like he cannot win, he can just sacrifice his tribesmen and forcefully ascend to the Saint realm. We will burn this world together!"

Qian Yunxi stared at him in pure disgust, the silver light of her aura flaring in response to his corruption. "How pathetic. At least back then you had your pride as a genius, even if you were arrogant. Now, you’re nothing more than a stray dog eating the scraps of monsters, wagging your tail for a master who will eventually crush you once you outlive your usefulness."

That seems to hit a nerve on Tang Shan as he gritted his teeth, the violet fire in his eyes flaring. "So what!? Pride doesn’t kill enemies! Pride didn’t bring back Ah Ruo! Everything is for my revenge! I would crawl through a thousand hells just to see this region burned the Spirit Hall destroyed!"

Qian Yunxi shook her head, her expression hardening into a mask of cold, divine judgment.

Without hesitation, she drew her silver rapier, the blade humming with a pure, purifying frequency. "There is no need to talk further. You have abandoned your race, your clan, and the path of the heavens. You, demonic cultivator... in my honor as the Saintess of Spirit Hall, I will cut you down on behalf of the heavens! Your soul shall not find peace, for there is no room in the cycle of reincarnation for a traitor like you!"

As she spoke, the silver light around her expanded, forming the silhouette of a celestial maiden behind her.

Tang Shan let out a crazed, guttural scream and lunged, his hammer trailing a wake of purple shadows that threatened to swallow the light.

The clash of the Saintess and the Traitor began, a battle of light and shadow that would serve as the prelude to the final cataclysm of the Eastern Region.

On to the side, Haoran watched the initial exchange for a brief moment before turning back to the horizon.

The demonic aura of Tang Shan was a variable he hadn’t fully accounted for, but it didn’t change the ultimate goal.

He looked toward the Fire Giant Tribe’s main camp. If the chief truly was preparing a sacrifice to reach the Saint realm, then time was running out.

"Forcefully ascending, huh?" Haoran murmured, his eyes glowing with a sharp, gold light. "I wonder how strong a Giant Saint is? Can they also bend space like an ordinary Saint? I kind of wanted to see it."

With a silent burst of speed, he moved past the duel, heading toward the heart of the enemy camp, his presence a golden streak of doom across the ash-choked sky.