Lin lan stayed inside the training room, slowly turning the pages of the Soul Refining Manual he had taken from his spatial ring.
Now that his soul flame had evolved into a deep crimson hue, far more cultivation techniques were available to him. But time was the one thing he didn't have. With the duel looming, he needed something practical—something decisive.
That was when a single entry caught his attention.
Taiyin Soul Incineration.
According to the manual, this technique drew upon the purest form of extreme Yin energy, igniting it into a deathly flame capable of burning directly through an enemy's soul. The description was brief—but unmistakably ominous.
Lin lan read the passage again and again, dissecting every line, every symbol. Hours blurred into days. By the time he finally looked up, two full days and nights had passed.
And he still didn't understand it.
A knot tightened in his chest.
Tomorrow was the duel with the Iron Mantis. If he couldn't master this technique, he would enter the arena with no real advantage at all.
Frustration finally won out. Lin lan closed the manual and walked over to the window. Beyond the glass, the night sky stretched endlessly—quiet, vast, indifferent. He let the darkness wash over him, forcing his breathing to slow.
Cultivation demanded clarity. A restless mind led nowhere.
Gradually, the tension eased. Only then did he return to the manual.
The moment his gaze fell upon the page again, something changed.
The characters began to shimmer.
Silver light bled from the text, the symbols twisting and rearranging themselves until the world around him dissolved.
Dark clouds smothered the heavens, blotting out sun and moon alike. Gale-force winds screamed across the land as bolts of lightning tore through the sky, slamming into the earth with apocalyptic force. Each strike gouged craters tens of meters deep, thunder rolling endlessly in its wake.
Atop a barren mountain peak stood a middle-aged Taoist master, hands clasped behind his back, utterly unmoved by the chaos around him. His robes billowed violently, yet he stood straight and calm—like an immortal carved from stone.
Before him surged an ocean of demons and monsters, tens of thousands strong. They roared like starving beasts, charging forward in a frenzied tide, eager to rip him apart.
The Taoist raised his hand.
His fingers formed a seal.
Then he began to chant.
His voice carried across the battlefield—clear, steady, and impossibly loud—cutting through the thunder as though it didn't exist.
As the chant intensified, emerald flames bloomed silently in the sky. One became many. The flames gathered, swelled, and twisted together, forming colossal fire dragons over a hundred meters long. The heavens themselves were dyed a brilliant green.
Just as the demonic horde reached the foot of the mountain, the Taoist pointed forward.
"Taiyin Soul Incineration."
The world exploded.
A deafening roar drowned out the thunder as countless fire dragons plunged from the sky, shrieking as they descended. Their massive jaws opened wide, tearing into the demon ranks.
Screams erupted instantly.
Emerald flames engulfed everything, reducing once-ferocious monsters to helpless prey. Souls burned away under the relentless fire, bodies collapsing into charred heaps that piled up like hills.
The surviving demons broke and fled—but there was no escape.
A single fire dragon swept its tail across the battlefield, erasing the remnants without mercy.
Nothing was left unburned.
Lin lan stared, breathless.
So this was it.
The true power of Taiyin Soul Incineration.
The vision lingered before slowly dissolving, the silver light fading as reality returned. Lin lan came back to himself, heart pounding.
This had to be the moment when the ancient creator of the technique first cast it. The memory—no, the imprint—had been hidden inside the manual all along, waiting for someone capable of seeing it.
As he recalled the chant, the hand seals, the flow of power—
Understanding struck.
Clarity flooded his mind like moonlight breaking through clouds.
"I've got it."
Lin lan laughed aloud, raising his hands. He mirrored the seals from the vision and began to chant.
Emerald flames emerged in the air before him, silent and cold. As the incantation continued, they twisted together, forming a fire dragon three meters long, thick as an arm, coiling through the space like a living thing.
"Taiyin Soul Incineration!"
He thrust his hand forward.
The fire dragon lunged.
BOOM!
It smashed into the wall, blasting a massive hole straight through it. Stone shattered. Dust and debris filled the room.
When the dust settled, the edges of the wall were fused into glass.
Lin lan whistled softly.
Impressive. Still not even close to the power from the vision—but someday…
Someday, he would unleash that level of destruction himself.
In the adjacent room, Nancy was deep in thought when the explosion nearly sent her flying off the sofa. Her four bodyguards reacted instantly, snapping into formation in front of her.
Even at ground level, the bar trembled. Screams erupted as patrons panicked, convinced an earthquake had struck.
Moments later, when Lin lan emerged from the ruined training room, dust clinging to him, Nancy finally relaxed.
"Ahem," Lin lan said awkwardly. "Sorry about that. Lost control for a second."
Nancy crossed her arms, teeth clenched, a dangerous smile curling her lips. "That training room cost half a million. Built exclusively for you. And it didn't survive a single session."
She tilted her head. "So… how do you plan to make this right?"
Lin lan opened his mouth. Then closed it again.
Her smile widened. "I was considering giving you a bonus if you won the duel. Looks like that money's going toward repairs instead."
His face fell. "You've got to be kidding me. The money was practically mine."
Nancy snorted as she turned to leave. "I had a Grand Mage reinforce that room. Claimed it was bulletproof. One hit and it's gone." She muttered under her breath, "That idiot cut corners. I'll deal with him later."