A silence fell across the battlefield, broken only by the whisper of the wind.
Up on the viewing platform, Flender and Zhao Wuji stood frozen, eyes wide with disbelief.
"This... this can't be real..."
"Is that… his third spirit?"
Their voices were barely audible, lost in the tide of shock that swept over them as they stared at Qian Yu, the young spirit master now levitating gracefully in the sky.
In the blink of an eye, fiery red wings had burst forth from Qian Yu's back—majestic, bladed feathers crackling with soul energy. He hovered there, high above the ground, like a crimson phoenix reborn in the heat of battle.
Then, his voice rang out, sharp and steady.
"Voidstorm."
The air split open.
One of Qian Yu's soul rings ignited with light, and from it erupted a golden storm—torrential winds laced with spirit power, sweeping down like divine retribution. Zhao Wuji, caught in the eye of this tempest, was battered by sheer velocity, his burly frame nearly swallowed whole by the hurricane of energy.
He gritted his teeth, muscles flexing beneath his tattered robes. He wasn't called the Immovable King for nothing.
"Gravity Amplifies!" Zhao Wuji roared, and the third of his spirit rings—dark and flickering with centuries of power—flared to life.
In an instant, the air around them thickened. The world grew heavy, as though time itself had slowed under the weight of his soul pressure. Qian Yu's figure, once a blur, began to decelerate.
"You're fast, kid," Zhao Wuji growled, breath ragged, "but not untouchable."
Another pulse of power. "Target Lock."
The fourth ring surged, and a glowing tether of spirit energy reached out—binding Qian Yu's location in the spiritual plane. Like a hound marking its prey, Zhao Wuji had him now.
"Gravity Crush!"
Boom.
The ground trembled. Air within a hundred-meter radius folded inward toward Zhao Wuji like a collapsing star. Qian Yu's body was pulled violently, the sheer force dragging him out of the sky like a bird caught in a typhoon.
Pinned, tracked, and slowed—Zhao Wuji had turned the battlefield into a cage.
The massive Soul Sage cracked his knuckles. "You can't run now, brat."
His spirit energy surged—wild, primal. He lunged.
But Qian Yu didn't flinch. No retreat. No hesitation.
Instead, he turned, lifting his spear.
The weapon pulsed with power—refined, focused. With a single breath, he lunged forward, meeting Zhao Wuji head-on.
Their attacks collided with a deafening crash, soul energy rippling outward in concentric waves.
A sharp gasp followed.
Qian Yu's spear pierced Zhao Wuji's right arm—then with a spinning flourish, drove again into his left.
"Aaagh!" Zhao Wuji's roar echoed across the field. Blood spattered onto the cracked earth as both arms feel limp at his sides.
His legs wavered.
"Flender!" he shouted, eyes desperate. "What are you waiting for?!"
Flender, who had remained watching in awe, finally moved. He stepped forward, sighing under his breath.
"I guess I don't have a choice."
He summoned his spirit. In a flash, a powerful aura exploded from him. Twin wings unfurled—massive and sharp-edged, covered in elegant feathers. His body shimmered with a thin coat of down, and his eyes gleamed a piercing gold.
Flender: the Owlcat. Swift, sharp, and deadly from the skies.
He launched into the air, wings slicing through the sky as he joined Qian Yu above the battlefield.
Below, Zhao Wuji wasn't done yet. His body trembled, the sixth soul ring—deep, abyssal black—lighting up like a burning star.
The earth shuddered beneath him.
Grains of rock lifted from the soil, vibrating violently in place. His eyes burned crimson, lips curled into a feral snarl.
Then—
"Titan's Roar!"
A shockwave burst from his lungs, not just sound but raw, destructive spirit power. The roar tore through the field like a hurricane of sound, pulverizing the floating stones into powder mid-air. It wasn't just an attack—it was an earthquake in a voice, a technique meant to incapacitate with sheer pressure.
And from above, Flender descended like a hawk, a flash of feathers and fury.
Qian Yu was surrounded.
Two Soul Sages, both charging with killing intent.
Spectators below gasped.
"He's finished. No one survives that."
"How the hell is he still standing?!"
"But this time… this time he's doomed."
But in the eye of the storm, Qian Yu remained calm. Floating. Serene.
Then, he smiled.
Just a tilt of the lips. Quiet. Knowing.
He vanished.
One moment there—then gone.
Not invisible.
Gone.
"W-What?" Zhao Wuji's voice cracked. "Where did he go?!"
"Did he vanish into thin air?!"
"Is that a… teleportation skill?!"
The murmurs spread like wildfire. Even Flender faltered mid-air.
Then, a soft voice whispered behind Zhao Wuji's ear.
"Sorry," Qian Yu murmured, "but I'm done playing."
In a flash of light, he emerged from the void—behind Zhao Wuji, his body wreathed in divine glow. His wings shimmered, and two pitch-black spirit rings rose beneath his feet, glowing brighter with every heartbeat.
His war spear—Wargod's Spear—flared with obsidian fire.
Golden light engulfed him, forcing everyone to shield their eyes.
When it cleared—
CRACK.
Like a divine hammer striking a sacred bell, the blow landed squarely on Zhao Wuji's chest.
BOOM.
The impact shattered the earth. Dust erupted into the sky. Debris flew in all directions.
A crater formed beneath their feet, vast and smoking.
And at its center, Qian Yu stood—his back straight, hair dancing in the updraft, war spear still humming with residual power.
Zhao Wuji lay crumpled at his feet.
Motionless.
Defeated.
The battlefield fell into a hush.
Flender hovered in place, his expression unreadable, watching Qian Yu raise his spear slowly—its tip now resting lightly against Zhao Wuji's exposed throat.
Then Qian Yu looked up, his voice steady.
"Well?" he asked, meeting Flender's eyes. "Still want to fight?"
No one spoke.
Because in that moment, it was clear—
Qian Yu had already won.
___________________
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