Lauren shot him a flat look. “In your current condition, can you even beat a Nascent Soul cultivator?”
“…” Tarot sighed dramatically. “To think I’m already this useless at such a young age.”
“Stop whining.” She shoved him toward the evacuation path. “Go.”
“Wayne,” she added firmly, “take good care of your master.”
“Yes, Miss Lauren.”
She turned to Briar. “Watch them closely.”
Briar hesitated. “I’ll go with you instead. I might be able to help.”
Lauren considered it briefly—then nodded. “Fine. Stay close.”
After handing Tarot and Wayne over to Dante, Lauren brought Briar back toward the main formation.
The Mountain Protection Array was fully activated now.
The training grounds and mountain peaks of the Thunder Sect were packed with cultivators, spiritual energy crackling in the air.
The torn sky yawned wider. The black maw overhead was grotesque—runes and currents of violent energy twisting within it like living veins. It swallowed the heavens above the Thunder Sect whole, casting everything below into a suffocating gloom.
Then—
Whoosh. A streak of light shot out from the darkness and slammed into the ground several breaths later.
Dust exploded outward.
When it settled, a man in gray robes stood at the center of the crater. He looked middle-aged, his features sharp and severe, his eyes colder than winter steel. He swept his gaze across the Thunder Sect as if examining a field of corpses.
Gerald’s expression hardened. “Everyone,” he barked, “full power!”
Strangely, the gray-robed man didn’t attack. Instead, he pressed his palm to the ground and began driving something into it—some kind of formation anchor.
Lauren’s heart dropped. She grabbed Gerald’s sleeve. “Sect Leader, hit him now!”
Gerald blinked. “What?”
“Oh, come on!” she snapped. “Are you waiting for all of them to come down first? This isn’t two armies lining up to be polite. Move!”
Then she shouted, “Briar! Rip that hilltop apart!”
Briar reacted instantly. He kicked off his shoes. Red roots burst from beneath his feet and plunged into the earth, spreading like a blood-red web beneath the entire hill.
With a violent heave—
The whole hilltop tore free. Rock and soil lifted into the air, flinging the gray-robed man along with it.
Before he could stabilize himself, countless golden rays crashed down from above. The man roared and thrust his palm upward. A translucent barrier bloomed around him, blocking the rain of golden light.
“Hmph,” he sneered, voice dripping with disdain. “Ants. You dare resist? If you kneel quietly and die, I might even leave you an intact corpse.”
Intact corpse? In a fight like this, that’d be a fucking miracle.
Gerald’s face flushed red as the pressure mounted. “Where are my three thousand disciples?!”
Three thousand streams of golden light surged skyward, pouring into his body.
His aura exploded. A massive golden sword condensed in his grasp and cleaved downward.
Boom!
The gray-robed man’s defensive barrier shattered into fragments, and he was blasted backward through the air.
Gerald didn’t hesitate. Sword in hand, he pursued. Golden light slashed across the sky in streaks, carving through trees and terrain alike. Then—
A deafening rumble. A massive earthen wall, tens of meters high, erupted from the ground and smashed into Gerald mid-charge, sending him flying back in a violent crash.
The gray-robed man stood atop the towering wall, robes fluttering, looking down as though judging the lives beneath him.
“An ant,” he said coldly. “I underestimated you.”
The golden light around Gerald dimmed from the impact. But the moment he retreated within range of the Mountain Protection Array, empowered by his disciples again, his radiance flared back to full brilliance.
From a distance, the gray-robed man observed carefully.
Now he understood. No wonder the three earlier vanguards had died at the hands of “ants.”
He wouldn’t make the same mistake. He didn’t advance. Instead, he flicked a signal talisman upward into the black maw, eyes sharp and calculating.
Because of the time difference between realms, even if reinforcements descended one after another, there would still be brief gaps between arrivals.
He’d wait. Let these insects live a few breaths longer.
Gerald understood immediately—this was only the vanguard. More were coming.
His chest tightened with frustration. If he left the array’s range, without the support of his disciples, he’d be cut down. But if he stayed, they’d be slowly cornered.
Lauren didn’t have the patience to wait. Before anyone could stop her, she shot forward.
She was only at the peak of Spirit Severing—not even Spirit Transformation. Two entire realms below him.
To the gray-robed man, she wasn’t worth noticing. He swatted her weapon aside with a single move, shattering it.
“Your sect is pathetic,” he said with icy contempt. “Your sect leader is so incompetent he sends a mere Spirit Severing girl to die.”
He looked at her like she was trash. Not even an opponent.
Lauren’s lips curled. “To die?” she said softly. “Is that what you think?”
At that exact moment, she transmitted a thought to Briar.
Red roots burst from the ground without warning. They coiled around the man’s ankle—thin as threads, sharp as needles—and pierced straight through his flesh.
His expression changed instantly. Careless. He had been careless.
With a snarl, he severed the roots and shot into the sky, tearing the remaining vines from his ankle.
He didn’t dare land again. Something was hiding beneath the earth. Above him—
Golden light descended once more.
No, not light. Needles. Countless golden needles capable of turning a body into a sieve.
He raised his hand to block them, but his vision swam. The world tilted. His mind felt sluggish.
Damn it—
That thing that pierced him… was it poisoned?
Within the storm of golden light, Gerald descended again. “Three thousand disciples—aid me!”
Golden energy gathered into a blazing ring in his palm, condensing into a massive sword longer than his entire body.
He swung. A sword shadow dozens of feet long tore through the sky.
Boom!
The gray-robed man’s defensive formation shattered again. The shockwave slammed him downward.
The bowl-shaped artifact in his hand cracked apart into fragments. Rage twisted his features.
As he fell, he drew a longsword and slashed upward, colliding head-on with the descending golden blade.
The impact shook the heavens. But Gerald’s borrowed strength was already fading.
He couldn’t afford a direct clash now. He retreated, waiting for the next chance to gather power.
Hidden in the shadows, Lauren waited. She’d been watching for this exact moment. The instant the gray-robed man began to descend—
Strange Fire erupted in her palm. A massive Ice Lotus bloomed at the spot where he would land.
The moment his feet touched the ground, frost exploded upward, petals of glacial flame closing around him and sealing him inside.
The ice wouldn’t hold long. Three breaths. Maybe.
That was enough. “Gold Silk Talisman!” She slapped it down. “Calming Talisman!”
Another strike. Layers of sealing force crashed onto him.
“Sect Leader!”
Gerald’s eyes flashed. Golden light surged once more as he hoisted the massive sword over his shoulder—and charged straight back in.
Gerald’s hands flashed through a series of seals. The massive golden greatsword trembled—then split.
One blade became ten.Ten became a hundred. A hundred became a storm.
Countless golden swords filled the sky, encircling the frozen block of ice that imprisoned the gray-robed man.
Gerald and Lauren locked eyes. No words. The moment she withdrew the Ice Lotus—
The golden blades shot forward.
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