The warhorn's cry shattered the twilight sky. Chen Ming's heart beat like a war drum as he stepped to the edge of the obsidian ramparts. Below him, the armies of the Obsidian Court surged forward in tight formations, banners unfurling like wings of night.
Across the valley, the first wave of enemies crested the horizon.
A divine coalition—assembled hastily by rival courts threatened by his rise—had answered with steel, fury, and fire. Their champions shimmered with divine runes, their eyes glowing with the arrogance of centuries.
Chen felt the flare of power ripple across the field. Three avatars approached—each a proxy of a hostile deity.
"So they're sending their lapdogs first," Lanmei muttered, tightening the gauntlet over her palm. Her golden aura sharpened, flames beginning to spark at her feet.
Ye Yue stood beside them in near silence, her expression unreadable, yet her fingers coiled around a silver spear of starlight. "They want to test you, Ming. To see if you'll falter when it's no longer divine pleasure but divine blood on your hands."
"I won't." Chen's voice was calm. Cold. He stepped forward, leapt from the wall—and landed in a thunderclap of energy, the blackstone beneath him cracking.
The first avatar came for him immediately, a massive creature cloaked in red fur and wielding a blade that split the wind.
Chen ducked beneath the strike, drove his palm into the creature's side, and with a pulse of Yang energy—sent it flying into a cliff wall.
Before the dust could settle, the second descended. A lithe woman of glass and shadow, her body morphing between shapes mid-strike. Her attacks were fast, calculated, weaving through air like whispers of death.
Chen blinked—literally—and reappeared behind her.
"Too slow," he muttered.
One strike. A kiss of heat. She shattered into ash.
The third avatar, though… was different.
A divine knight clad in violet crystal and wielding a long halberd. His presence felt heavier, older—he didn't charge like the others. He walked.
"You are not ready," the knight said. "And yet… you remind me of something lost. The fire of devotion."
"Then let's find out if it still burns," Chen said—and launched forward.
Their clash sent shockwaves through the field. The ground cracked. Lightning coiled around them as halberd met bare hands pulsing with Yang flame. Chen ducked, twisted, swept low—only to be knocked back by a gravitational pulse.
The knight surged after him, his halberd a blur.
Chen raised his arm—and activated Lust Infusion.
The world slowed.
The knight's thoughts stuttered. Emotion swirled. He saw not just a warrior—but a lover, a dream, a memory. Chen's aura turned beautiful, terrifying—a temptation and revelation at once.
The knight faltered.
And in that instant, Chen struck.
His palm hit the knight's chest—not to kill, but to bind. Power flared, divine threads weaving between them. The knight fell to one knee, sword driven into the ground.
"Why spare me?" he asked, coughing divine ichor.
"Because even gods deserve a second chance," Chen said.
Behind him, the battle still raged—but now the enemy front faltered. Their avatars had fallen. The momentum turned.
Above the field, the divine courts watched.
And somewhere in the heavens, Lysaria smiled.