“Nine Dragons Burning Heaven—!”

Xiao Jin had descended into a state of absolute madness. The nine golden dragon phantoms coiling around his [Heaven-Burning Spear] were no longer fueled by mere Qi, but by his own burning life-essence. Each draconic silhouette pulsed with a heat so malevolent it threatened to reduce the very firmament to ash.

Before the spear could even strike, the earth within a hundred-zhang radius buckled and liquefied. Molten rock surged from the widening fissures, geysers of orange magma turning the battlefield into a searing purgatory. This was the pinnacle of a Half-Step Nascent Soul expert—a desperate, all-consuming strike meant to end everything.

“Die!” Xiao Jin roared.

The spear lanced forward. Nine golden dragons tore through the sky, their roars shaking the heavens as the blinding white fire turned the night into day for ten miles in every direction.

In that razor-thin margin between life and death—

Dong—

A heavy, primordial chime resounded through the clouds. As the sound wave rippled outward, the churning magma instantly froze into obsidian, and the erupting flames hung stagnant in the air, their heat stripped away.

From the blood-red jade ring on Shen Xian’s finger, a bronze ancient bell drifted into the sky.

Ancient battle-runes etched into its surface ignited with a steady, golden glow. The earth-yellow dragon perched atop the bell opened its eyes, and a vast, suffocating aura from the dawn of time swept across the field.

“Law Suppression!” Shen Xian’s voice cut through the silence.

The [Zhenyue Huntian Bell] vibrated violently. Dense, ancient seals appeared in the air around it, each one a physical manifestation of the world’s governing principles.

Xiao Jin’s face went from murderous to horrified. He felt his body become leaden, as if he had been plunged into the crushing depths of a ten-thousand-fathom sea. The simplest movement now required a mountain of Spiritual Qi. The flow of essence in his Meridians turned to thick sludge, and even the golden flames on his spear began to flicker and die.

“This… this is…” His pupils contracted to pinpricks. “Spiritual Qi confinement?!”

Terrified, he realized even the burgeoning Nascent Soul within him was being shackled. Then, the earth-yellow dragon atop the bell unhinged its jaw and spat a stream of dark, viscous gold flame. Wherever it touched, the void distorted, and the world’s natural Qi was consumed in a hiss of annihilation.

[Fiend Fire Purgatory]!

The dark-gold fire expanded, engulfing the hundred-zhang radius. Xiao Jin’s protective True Essence, usually an impenetrable ward, melted away like parchment in a forge.

“Ah—!”

A blood-curdling scream tore from his throat. This fire didn’t just scorch his flesh; it was feeding on his very soul. Within his Sea of Consciousness, it felt as though millions of fire-ants were gnawing on his primordial spirit. Dark-gold wisps began to leak from his eyes, nose, and mouth. The [Essence of Li Fire] he had spent decades cultivating was now backlashing, turning his own internal power into a weapon against him.

“Fiend-Burning True Fire?!” Xiao Jin’s face contorted into a mask of agony. “This is impossible!”

It was the legendary flame that specialized in devouring the power of fire-cultivators. How could a mere smith possess such a thing?

Boom!

A second toll rang out. Visible ripples of dark-gold force swept the field. Xiao Jin’s defensive talismans shattered like glass. The [Exotic Fire Heavy Scale Armor] covering his chest spider-webbed, the cracks racing across his entire body. The spear strike he had poured his life into was forced back, the golden flames retreatingly helplessly into the spear shaft.

Pfft—!

Xiao Jin sprayed a mist of blood and organ fragments as he was thrown backward. His eyes were wide with a realization more painful than the fire: A True Spirit Treasure… and a mid-grade one at that.

Such a treasure was the cornerstone of a sect’s legacy. Even in the Li Fire Sect, only the Sect Master or the oldest Grand Elders could dream of touching such power. And this bell was a perfect counter to him—one ability to bind his Qi, another to devour his fire.

“You… just what are you…” Xiao Jin’s voice trembled.

Dong—!

The third chime hit like a thunderclap. The dark-gold flames rose into a towering inferno. Xiao Jin frantically tried to form a life-saving seal, only to find the space around him had been locked tight.

“No—!!”

The [Fiend-Burning True Fire] took its toll. His left arm vanished into ash, followed by his right leg. Worst of all, his meticulously cultivated Nascent Soul began to crack like a parched riverbed.

Boom!

At the fourth chime, a charred, broken figure was blasted through the air, smashing through three mountain cliffs before embedding deep into a rock wall. Covered in blood, half his body carbonized, Xiao Jin’s aura was a flickering candle in a storm. He stared at the bronze bell floating serenely in the sky, his soul finally breaking under the weight of an unprecedented fear.

Shen Xian’s eyes remained cold. He raised the [Wuchen Sword], the blade blooming with a frost so intense it crystallized the air into fine diamonds. Just as he stepped forward to deliver the killing blow—

“Junior, you dare!”

An ancient, thunderous roar shook the valley.

A crimson-gold talisman flew from the space between Xiao Jin’s eyebrows, expanding into a hundred-zhang-tall phantom of a burning elder. The mere presence of this projection caused every leaf for ten miles to turn to charcoal.

“A Li Fire Sect Patriarch,” Shen Xian muttered, his eyes narrowing. “The old ghost left a final ward.”

The [Zhenyue Huntian Bell] flew back to cover him. The phantom raised a massive palm, unleashing nine purple-gold dragons of [Purple Sun True Fire].

Shen Xian quickly deployed the [Taiyi Mirror], the water-like surface absorbing three of the dragons, but the phantom skillfully diverted the rest. They swerved around the mirror, lunging straight for Shen Xian’s Dantian.

Trying to cripple my path? Shen Xian’s eyes flashed with fury.

Boom!

The [Zhenyue Huntian Bell] took the brunt of the impact. The ancient battle-runes flared, holding the line, but the sheer force of a Soul Formation-level strike sent Shen Xian skidding back ten zhang, a trail of blood leaking from his lip.

When the dust settled, the mountainside was empty. Only a few drops of burning essence-blood on the rocks remained.

“A Blood Escape Technique,” Shen Xian said, wiping his mouth. “He was decisive, I’ll give him that.”

The Patriarch’s phantom had been a bluff—a single-use strike designed to buy time. Xiao Jin had squandered his greatest protection to flee, but he had survived.

“Pity I haven’t mastered a proper movement technique yet,” Shen Xian sighed. “Or he would have perished here today.”

“Senior!” Liu Qingxu stumbled toward him, her face white as a sheet. “That… that was the Li Fire Sect…” She looked down, embarrassed that she had been a mere spectator to such a titanic clash.

“I know who he is,” Shen Xian said, stowing his treasures. “His path is shattered. His Nascent Soul is cracked; without thirty years of seclusion and rare pills, he’s as good as crippled.”

He suddenly hissed, looking at his palm. A wisp of the Patriarch’s purple-gold fire had hitched a ride on his Qi and was now raging within his sea of consciousness, attempting to ignite his Golden Core.

“A parting gift?” Shen Xian’s lips curled into a cold smile. He began to circulate the [Profound Origin Condensing True Art], surrounding the intruder. “I’ll take it. This will be the perfect fuel to temper my [Li Fire True Seal].”