I Become Sect master In Another World-Chapter 184 — The Master Behind the Chains
The old man finally spoke.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
His voice slid through the sky like a blade through silk.
"My name," he said, violet light coiling faintly around his pupils, "is Qin Morian."
The name settled.
It didn't echo—but the air felt heavier for having heard it.
Several elders stiffened without realizing why.
Qin Morian lifted one hand.
The sky responded.
A vast formation unfolded above the battlefield, lines etching themselves into the heavens as if carved by an invisible hand. Violet runes rotated slowly, layered upon layered, forming a colossal sigil that blotted out the clouds.
Then—
Chains descended.
Not metal.
Not energy.
Something in between.
They poured out of the formation like falling serpents—thick, segmented links glowing with forbidden violet light. Space bent where they passed. Air screamed soundlessly as the chains wrapped around Lorgann.
The dragon roared.
Not in fury.
In pain.
His massive body convulsed midair as the chains sank into his scales—not piercing flesh, but biting into aura itself. Lava-colored energy flared violently between his scales, only to be dragged inward, crushed, suppressed.
His wings locked.
His roar broke into a rasp.
The mountain shook.
Below, Elder Wan staggered back a step.
His face drained of color. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
"…No," he breathed.
His eyes flew across the formation, tracing rune patterns, rotation speed, energy flow. His hands began to shake.
"This… this is—"
The chains tightened.
Lorgann screamed again.
Elder Wan swallowed hard.
"…This is the Beast Suppressing Formation."
The words fell like a hammer.
Several elders turned sharply.
"The same formation," Wan continued, voice hoarse now, "that Ye Xuan used back then—"
( Ye Xuan the main villain of Volume 2 )
His head snapped up, eyes widening as he felt the pressure.
"But this one…" His breath hitched. "This one is far stronger."
High above, Qin Morian chuckled.
A soft sound.
Amused.
He looked down at Elder Wan as one might look at a clever child.
"Oh?" he said lightly. "You noticed the formation."
His fingers twitched.
The formation pulsed.
Lorgann's body jerked violently as the chains flared brighter, forcing a strangled sound from his throat.
"You're right," Qin Morian continued. "It is the beast suppressing formation."
He smiled.
And the smile widened.
"And I am the one who taught it to Ye Xuan."
Shock rippled through the terraces.
Elder Wu's jaw tightened.
Elder Feng Yu's eyes narrowed.
Elder Liya's grip on her sword creaked.
Qin Morian tilted his head, gaze drifting briefly—thoughtfully—toward the burning sect below.
"When I heard Ye Xuan had died," he said, almost casually, "I was… surprised."
His eyes returned to them.
"To think," he mused, "that an unknown sect could kill my disciple."
He studied the battlefield now—ruined halls, standing elders, bloodied disciples still refusing to fall.
Then he nodded.
Slowly.
"I see it now."
His tone lost its casual edge.
"He was no match for you."
For a heartbeat—
There was silence.
Then Qin Morian's fingers curled into a fist.
The chains constricted.
Lorgann screamed, his massive form trembling as suppressed power exploded uselessly beneath the bindings.
Qin Morian's eyes burned violet.
"But do not worry," he said calmly. "As his master—"
The sky darkened.
The formation rotated faster.
"I will destroy you all for him."
Qin Morian's fingers closed.
Not tightly.
Not hurriedly.
Just enough.
The violet chains answered instantly.
They constricted with a shrill, grinding scream, links tightening around Lorgann's massive frame as if the sky itself had decided to crush him. The dragon's body arched violently, scales grinding together, lava-colored energy flaring uselessly before being dragged inward and suffocated.
Lorgann roared.
The sound was no longer thunderous.
It broke.
A raw, fractured cry tore out of him as his wings locked mid-beat, joints trembling, his colossal form shuddering against restraints that fed on his power rather than his flesh.
The mountain trembled with him.
Stone cracked.
Dust leapt from the ground.
Lin Shu moved.
She slid her sword back into its sheath.
The sound was soft.
Clean.
Final.
Her feet shifted—one half-step forward, heel settling, toes angling just slightly inward. Her body lowered into a stance so familiar it felt older than thought itself. Her left hand rested lightly on the sheath. Her right hovered near the hilt.
The world seemed to inhale.
Blue aura leaked from her skin—not bursting, not flaring—but seeping, like pressure finding cracks in reality. The ground beneath her boots shuddered, hairline fractures spreading outward as faint arcs of blue lightning crawled along the stone.
The air thickened.
Disciples nearest her felt their skin prickle, breath catching as static snapped against armor and blades.
Lin Shu's shoulders tensed.
Her voice cut out sharp and clear.
"I need time."
Blue lightning erupted.
It snapped outward in violent coils, arcing from her arms, her back, the ground itself. The sky above her rippled faintly as if responding to her presence alone.
"To prepare this technique."
Elder Liya didn't hesitate.
She tightened her grip on her sword—and smiled.
Not wide.
Not soft.
The smile of someone who understood exactly what was about to happen.
"Fine," she said, stepping forward, pink aura rolling off her like heat from molten steel. "Take as much time as you need."
She turned her head.
Looked back at the sect.
At disciples bleeding, shaking, still standing.
Her voice rose.
"Right?"
For half a breath—
There was silence.
Then bodies straightened.
A disciple forced himself upright using his spear as a crutch. Another wiped blood from his mouth and laughed breathlessly. Swords lifted. Stances tightened. Smiles appeared—crooked, exhausted, feral.
"Right!" Wang Tian shouted.
Creatures screamed.
They surged forward in a howling wave, corruption flaring bright as they hurled themselves toward Lin Shu's position—claws tearing stone, wings snapping open, bodies colliding over one another in mindless hunger.
They didn't reach her.
Disciples met them head-on.
Steel screamed.
Bodies slammed together.
Spears punched forward. Blades rose and fell. Injured cultivators threw themselves into the charge without hesitation, intercepting claws meant for Lin Shu with their own bodies.
Blood sprayed.
Qin Morian sighed.
Almost disappointed.
He lifted a single finger.
"You cannot destroy the formation," he said mildly.
Violet light gathered at his fingertip.
Compressed.
Focused.
A razor-thin spiritual orb formed—silent, perfect, aimed straight at Lin Shu's head.
It released.
The violet arrow crossed the sky in a straight, merciless line.
No sound.
No flare.
Just pressure—sharp enough that the air itself recoiled.
Lin Shu felt it on her skin.
Cold.
Cutting.
She did not open her eyes.
Blue lightning crawled harder along her arms.
The arrow reached her face—
"MOVE—!"
The shout detonated like thunder.
Stone exploded upward.
A body slammed down in front of Lin Shu, boots crushing into the terrace so hard the ground fractured outward. Shadow surged violently as a sword ripped upward in a brutal arc.
CLANG—!
The sound tore through the battlefield.
The arrow shattered inches from Lin Shu's face, exploding into jagged fragments of violet light that sprayed across the air like broken glass. Sparks scorched the stone. Pressure rolled outward, flattening ash and snapping loose debris into the sky.
The figure staggered half a step.
Blood slid down his wrist.
Elder An Ning stood there, teeth clenched so hard they creaked, shadow aura boiling around his blade.
An Ning twisted his wrist, flicking the remaining violet shards aside as he lifted his sword again, shadow coiling tighter.
"Heh," he growled. "Like hell I'd let that hit her."
Above, the old man's smile twitched.
Behind An Ning—
The air split again.
"Don't hog the glory."
A sharp voice cut in.
Elder Feng Yu burst forward from behind An Ning, robes snapping violently as his aura flared.
"Lin Shu—keep charging it!" Feng Yu barked without looking back.
"We'll handle the trash!"
Both elders surged forward together.
Above them, Qin Morian's gaze finally sharpened.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
Qin Morian's brows lifted.
Just a fraction.
It was enough.
His raised hand turned palm-down.
The sky answered.
Violet light snapped into existence above the mountain, rings of sigils grinding into place one after another. They rotated in opposing directions, faster and faster, carving runic scars into the air itself. The formation deepened—layers stacking, locking—until the pressure made lungs burn.
At its center—
Points of light ignited.
One.
Ten.
A hundred.
Then thousands.
Spiritual arrows condensed in perfect silence, shafts crystalline and sharp, tips glowing with compressed malice. Every arrow rotated as one—
And aimed downward.
An Ning sucked in a sharp breath.
"…Tch."
The rain began.
Not falling—
Dropping.
The first wave tore through the air like screaming meteors, violet trails ripping scars through the sky as gravity and intent merged.
Feng Yu's eyes snapped wide.
"An Ning—LEFT FLANK!"
"Already saw it!"
An Ning stepped forward, shadow exploding from his feet as he drove his sword upward.
"Shadow Sever—Sky Split!"
The blade screamed.
A crescent of black tore into the heavens, colliding head-on with the descending arrows. The front line detonated instantly—violet light bursting apart as shadows swallowed them whole.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—
Explosions cascaded outward, shockwaves slamming into the terraces below and ripping chunks from stone pillars.
But the rain didn't stop.
More arrows punched through the smoke.
Feng Yu was already moving.
He spun once, robes flaring, sword held in reverse grip as light condensed along the blade's spine.
"Flowing Heaven Cut."
He slashed upward.
The air folded.
A vertical wall of condensed sword-light surged skyward, catching the next wave mid-descent. Arrows struck it—
—and vanished.
Not shattered.
Erased.
The pressure forced Feng Yu's boots to grind into the stone. Cracks raced outward beneath his feet.
"Ghh—!" He snarled. "He's feeding more into it!"
Above them, the formation flared brighter.
Another wave aligned.
Closer.
Denser.
An Ning wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, grinning like a madman.
"Heh. Good."
Shadow coiled violently around his arms.
"Let's break his rhythm."
He slammed his foot down.
"Shadow Domain—Eclipse Line!"
Darkness surged upward in jagged spears, impaling the descending arrows from below. Violet tips met shadow—
—and screamed.
The collision ripped open the sky in violent bursts, raining light and fragments like dying stars.
Still—
Arrows slipped through.
One pierced the air between them.
Too fast.
Too close.
Feng Yu didn't turn.
"Duck."
An Ning dropped instantly.
Feng Yu pivoted on one foot, sword flashing behind his back in a razor-thin arc.
CLANG—!
The arrow split cleanly down its length, halves dissolving into violet mist inches from Feng Yu's spine.
Stone shattered behind them as missed arrows struck home, punching craters into terraces, collapsing railings, blowing disciples backward with concussive force.
Above—
The formation groaned.
Hairline cracks raced across its outer rings.
An Ning looked up, eyes burning.
"Now!"
Feng Yu nodded once.
They moved together.
Both swords rose.
Shadow and light twisted around each other—not clashing, not resisting—interlocking.
"Twin Severing Heavens!"
They swung.
Two blades.
One will.
A crossing X of sword intent tore upward, ripping straight through the heart of the arrow storm. The formation screamed as its core destabilized, sigils shattering one after another in a chain reaction.
BOOOOOOM—
The sky erupted.
The formation imploded, violet rings collapsing inward before bursting apart into dissolving fragments of light.
Silence followed.
Ash drifted.
Stone settled.
An Ning exhaled hard, planting his sword into the ground to steady himself.
"Heh…" He glanced sideways. "You still breathing?"
Feng Yu rolled his shoulder, blood dripping from his sleeve.
"Barely," he replied dryly. "But I've had worse."
Above them—
Qin Morian lowered his hand.
And the air tightened again.
Then—
Two presences stepped forward.
Not hurried.
Not dramatic.
Elder Wu and Elder Jian Fan.
The battlefield seemed to make space for them.
Broken stone crunched beneath their boots as they moved side by side, shoulders squared, breaths heavy but steady. Blood streaked their robes, wounds still open—still bleeding—but neither spared them a glance.
Wu flexed his fingers.
Golden light sparked between his knuckles.
Jian Fan rolled his neck once, slow and deliberate. Veins stood out along his forearms as his aura ignited, the color deepening from pale gold to something denser—older.
He exhaled.
"…One strike," Jian Fan said, voice low.
Wu grinned through bloodied teeth. "That's all we need."
They clenched their fists.
The air screamed.
Golden aura erupted, not flaring outward, but collapsing inward—compressing so violently that the space around their arms warped. Muscles swelled beneath skin that glowed like forged metal, veins burning bright as rivers of molten light surged through them.
Stone beneath their feet cracked.
Then shattered.
They didn't look at each other.
They didn't need to.
In perfect unison, they stepped sideways—
—and slammed their fists together.
The impact rang like a divine bell.
"FUSION—"
Golden sigils snapped into existence around their arms, ancient symbols spiraling together, locking, fusing.
"DRAGON—"
The light detonated outward, blasting dust and debris into the sky.
"FIST!"
The ground exploded.
From the collision point, something massive tore free.
A dragon.
Colossal.
Its body was formed entirely of compressed golden spiritual energy, scales overlapping like plates of divine armor, each one etched with runes burning white-hot. Its eyes ignited as it roared, the sound ripping through the battlefield like a judgment call from the heavens.
The roar alone flattened nearby creatures.
Bodies were crushed into the ground by sheer pressure, bones imploding before flesh could even tear.
The dragon surged forward.
Not flying.
Charging.
The sky split in its wake as it tore toward Qin Morian, jaws opening wide, golden flames spiraling between its fangs.
Below, disciples stared upward, mouths hanging open.
Above—
Qin Morian finally moved.
He raised both hands.
Casually.
As if adjusting sleeves.
Violet light snapped into place before him, forming a multilayered defensive formation. Rings of sigils rotated rapidly, stacking, overlapping, weaving into a solid wall of runic light that bent space around it.
The dragon hit.
BOOOOOOM—
The collision obliterated sound.
Light swallowed the sky.
A shockwave tore outward in a perfect sphere, flattening everything in its path. Creatures midair were erased—smashed into red mist before they could even scream. Cliff faces collapsed, entire sections of stone shearing away and plummeting into the abyss below.
Terraces buckled.
Disciples were thrown backward like dolls, bodies skidding across stone as debris rained down in a storm of fire and dust.
The formation screamed.
Runes shattered one by one.
Cracks raced across the violet barrier as the dragon pushed forward, claws digging into light itself, jaws closing—
—and then—
SHATTER.
The defensive formation exploded apart, fragments of violet light scattering like broken stars, dissolving as they flew.
The dragon roared triumphantly—
—and detonated.
Golden light burst outward, washing the battlefield in blinding radiance before collapsing inward, vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared.
Dust rolled.
Debris fell.
Silence crept back in.
Slowly.
When the smoke thinned—
Qin Morian was still there.
Floating.
He drifted backward.
One step.
Just one.
His boots settled in midair as his robes fluttered once, fabric rippling gently before going still.
No blood.
No wounds.
Not even a crease.
His hands lowered.
His smile remained.
Unbroken.
Unimpressed.
Elder Wu dropped to one knee, coughing hard as blood spilled from his mouth, fist still glowing faintly.
Jian Fan staggered back a step, arm trembling violently, golden light flickering as exhaustion slammed into him.
"…He…" Jian Fan rasped. "…only moved… one step…"
Above them—
Qin Morian tilted his head slightly.
Almost curious.
"…A respectable effort," he said mildly.
The battlefield froze.
Not from fear.
From the realization—
That even that had not been enough.
Just as the dust from the shattered formation had not yet settled—
The air above Qin Morian collapsed inward.
A presence descended.
Elder Wan.
He appeared without sound, robes snapping violently as he tore through the air and halted above the battlefield. Blood streaked his temple, his breathing uneven—but his eyes were blazing with a clarity that cut through chaos.
"Now," he whispered.
Then he raised his hand.
The world answered.
A circular formation ignited in his palm—emerald light spinning rapidly, layers of symbols folding into one another with breathtaking complexity. Each rune locked into place with a sharp click, like celestial machinery engaging.
Below—
The stone beneath Qin Morian's feet lit up.
An emerald formation erupted outward, expanding in a perfect circle that swallowed him whole. Lines carved themselves into reality, roots of light spreading in all directions before snapping upward—
Chains burst forth.
Not metal.
Energy.
Thick emerald chains shot upward from the formation, wrapping around Qin Morian's limbs, torso, neck—binding him in a lattice of glowing restraints. The chains slammed tight with thunderous force, runes burning as they constricted.
The air shook.
Creatures howled.
For the first time—
Qin Morian's expression changed.
His brows lifted.
Just slightly.
"…Oh?" he murmured.
Elder Wan screamed.
"NOW—BE SEALED!"
The chains tightened.
Harder.
They dug into violet aura, sparks exploding where suppression met resistance. The formation beneath Qin Morian blazed brighter, symbols rotating faster as Elder Wan poured everything into it.
"This is the Spirit Binding Array!" Wan roared, blood spilling from his lips. "Even a peak Nascent Soul would—!"
Qin Morian smiled.
Slow.
Amused.
His eyes lifted.
And changed.
Formation circles ignited within his pupils—layered, rotating, impossibly complex. Symbols far older than the sect's records spun calmly inside his gaze.
He snapped his fingers.
Crack.
The emerald chains shuddered.
Hairline fractures raced across them, light splintering as if struck by an unseen hammer.
Elder Wan's eyes widened.
"…What the—"
SHATTER.
The chains exploded into fragments of emerald light, dissolving midair like broken glass swallowed by darkness. The formation beneath Qin Morian cracked straight down the center, runes flickering wildly before dying out one by one.
Wan staggered midair.
His breath hitched.
"…Formation God Seal," he whispered, horror flooding his voice. "That artifact—how do you have it?!"
Qin Morian laughed.
Not loudly.
Not cruelly.
Just… indulgently.
"That," he said gently, lowering his hand, "is not your concern."
His arm drew back.
No flourish.
No warning.
Then he thrust his fist forward.
Violet energy detonated.
A spiritual punch tore through space itself, compressing air into a screaming tunnel of force as it blasted toward Elder Wan. The pressure alone split clouds and cracked stone below.
Wan's pupils shrank.
He tried to move—
Too slow.
A pink flash cut across his vision.
"Get down!"
Elder Liya appeared in front of him.
She stepped into the blow.
Her sword screamed as it swung upward.
"Lotus Petal Slash!"
Pink aura erupted violently from her blade, forming a spiraling crescent that pierced straight into the heart of the incoming punch. The two forces collided—
—and ripped through each other.
The spiritual fist split apart, violet energy shredding outward as Liya was driven back half a step, boots gouging deep trenches into the stone.
Blood spilled from her mouth.
She didn't stop.
Her aura flared brighter.
Lotus petals formed.
Not illusions.
Blades.
Dozens—hundreds—of razor-sharp pink petals spun into existence around her, each one humming with lethal intent.
"Lotus Sword Art—" Liya shouted, voice raw, "—PIERCING PETALS!"
She released her grip.
Her sword dropped.
The petals launched.
They screamed through the air like a storm of arrows, trajectories weaving, converging from every angle—aimed straight at Qin Morian's heart.
He raised one hand.
A defensive formation snapped into existence.
Violet sigils locked together, forming a translucent wall just as the petals struck.
Clang—clang—CRASH!
Petals shattered on impact, detonating into bursts of pink light. Others pierced halfway through before dissolving, power neutralized inch by inch by the formation's dense layers.
When the storm ended—
Nothing had touched him.
Qin Morian's other hand lifted.
Violet energy gathered rapidly, condensing into a swirling orb that bent light around it. Space groaned as the pressure spiked.
"Enough," he said calmly.
Across from him—
Elder Wan roared.
Silver aura erupted from his body, blazing violently as he forced himself upright midair. Blood streamed from his nose, ears—but his eyes were sharp with desperation and resolve.
The aura dragged inward violently, collapsing upon itself until the air screamed around it. Space bent, folding toward the growing mass as if gravity itself had been seized and twisted by force. The silver orb took shape—dense, unstable, layers upon layers of compressed spiritual energy grinding together inside it.
Stars appeared within it.
Not illusions.
Actual pinpricks of light—miniature constellations spinning violently, colliding, shattering, reforming again and again. Each rotation warped the space around the orb, pulling debris upward, tearing loose fragments of stone from the terraces below.
Wan's arms shook.
Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth as veins stood out along his neck and forearms, skin cracking faintly under the strain.
His eyes burned.
"THEN DIE NOW—!"
He roared, voice tearing raw from his chest.
"GALACTIC—CRUSHER!"
He thrust forward.
The silver orb screamed as it launched—dragging the sky with it, leaving behind a vacuum where air simply ceased to exist.
Opposite him—
Violet answered.
Qin Morian's orb rotated slowly in his palm, deceptively calm. Layers of corrupted light folded inward like petals closing, forming a core so dense that even light curved around it. Runes flickered across its surface, appearing and vanishing as if reality itself struggled to understand its shape.
He pushed his hand forward.
Casually.
The two orbs met.
For half a heartbeat—
Nothing existed.
Sound vanished.
Light collapsed.
Color drained from the world.
The sky turned empty—no blue, no violet, no silver—just a vast, impossible void where existence had been erased.
Then—
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
Creation detonated.
The collision birthed a newborn catastrophe—silver and violet energy exploding outward in concentric rings that shredded clouds into vapor and tore open the heavens like ripped parchment. Shockwaves slammed downward, flattening forests, pulverizing stone, and blasting bodies—creatures and disciples alike—through the air like leaves in a storm.
The mountain screamed.
Terraces collapsed in cascading waves. Pillars disintegrated mid-structure. Blood and debris were vaporized instantly near the epicenter, leaving scorched emptiness behind.
The sky fractured.
Lightning erupted from the tear, silver and violet bolts lashing outward uncontrollably as the explosion continued to expand—
—until it finally burned itself out.
Ash rained down.
The air trembled.
And when sight returned—
The battlefield was no longer the same.
Light swallowed color. Shockwaves slammed into the mountain, tearing entire sections of stone free. Terraces collapsed. Bodies were hurled like leaves in a storm.
Elder Liya and Elder Wan were blasted backward.
Hard.
Liya smashed through a stone pillar, coughing violently as she skidded across rubble, armor cracked and smoking.
Wan spun helplessly through the air before slamming into the ground, silver aura flickering weakly as blood pooled beneath him.
The smoke rolled.
Debris rained.
When it cleared—
Qin Morian still hovered.
Robes torn at the edges.
Aura burning brighter.
And his smile—
Wider.
While the battlefield burned—
Lin Shu stood still.
Too still.
Blue aura gathered around her feet first, thin streams leaking from beneath cracked stone. The light did not flare. It condensed. Pulled inward. Pressed tight against her skin as if waiting for permission.
Her breathing slowed.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
She closed her eyes.
The world dimmed.
Sound pulled away—the clash of steel, the screams, the thunder of collapsing halls—all faded until only vibration remained. Her aura trembled, rippling outward in tight waves that rattled debris at her feet.
Inside that stillness—
Memory surfaced.
A sword drawn countless times.
A hand guiding her wrist.
A voice correcting her stance.
Too slow.
Again.
Feel the cut before you draw.
She saw him—clear as if standing beside her.
Shaurya.
Watching.
Teaching.
Her fingers tightened around the hilt.
I've seen him do this, she thought, breath trembling just slightly.
Again and again.
He made it look simple.
Her aura shook harder.
Blue light crawled up her arms like living lightning, veins of energy pulsing beneath her skin. The ground beneath her boots began to fracture—not from force, but from pressure building too tightly to be contained.
But this isn't his body, she realized.
This is mine.
A sharp inhale.
Her jaw clenched.
I don't know if I can do it, her thoughts whispered.
But I have to.
Her grip steadied.
Shaurya…
I have to do this for you.
Her eyes snapped open.
The sky flinched.
Blue lightning exploded outward from her body, cracking through the air in jagged arcs. The aura that had been contained detonated violently, rising like a storm column as her hair whipped upward, suspended by raw power.
The sect members saw it.
And froze.
Someone's weapon slipped from numb fingers.
Another took an unconscious step back.
"What—" someone whispered.
Lin Shu moved.
Her sword left its sheath in a single, flawless motion.
No wind-up.
No excess.
A clean, perfect quick draw.
"Divine Sword Art—" she screamed, voice ripping through the battlefield, raw and absolute.
The blade flashed.
"—END OF DARKNESS!"
Blue light erupted.
Not spreading—
Cleaving.
A crescent of pure spiritual energy burst from her sword, so sharp it split the air before it split space. The slash screamed forward, carving a glowing path through the sky as clouds were torn apart like fabric.
The ground trembled.
Stone buckled.
Trees flattened outward as pressure rolled behind the strike.
Above—
Qin Morian's eyes widened.
For the first time—
Genuinely.
The blue slash collided with the Beast Suppressing Formation.
BOOOOOOM—
The sky shattered.
Purple chains snapped apart midair, exploding into fragments of corrupted light. Formation rings fractured violently, sigils shattering as the blue energy tore straight through them.
Clouds split open.
The heavens parted.
The formation collapsed in a cascading implosion, violet light screaming as it was erased completely.
Lorgann gasped.
A sound like mountains cracking.
The chains binding his massive body disintegrated, purple energy evaporating as his colossal form dropped.
He fell.
Hard.
The impact shook the mountain as his body slammed into the ground, stone pulverizing beneath him. Dust and debris erupted outward as his wings collapsed uselessly at his sides.
His chest heaved.
Once.
Twice.
"…Haaa…" he rasped, breath shuddering.
Lin Shu staggered.
Her aura flickered violently, then dimmed as exhaustion hit all at once. She exhaled sharply, knees threatening to give way before she forced herself upright.
Blue light faded.
Her breathing turned ragged.
Lorgann's body began to glow.
The massive form shrank, energy folding inward as scales dissolved into light. Wings receded. Heat dimmed.
Moments later—
His normal form lay there instead, chest rising shallowly, skin pale, trembling.
Lin Shu moved to his side immediately.
She knelt, hand hovering before touching his shoulder.
"Lorgann," she said quietly, voice hoarse. "Are you alright?"
He laughed weakly—more air than sound.
"…I'm alive," he muttered, forcing a grin that didn't quite form. "So… I suppose that counts as okay."
He tried to push himself up.
His arms gave out.
He fell back with a dull thud, breath hitching painfully.
"…Not moving anytime soon," he admitted.
Lin Shu swallowed.
She stood slowly.
Her gaze lifted.
The sect lay in ruins.
Burning halls. Cracked terraces. Blood-soaked stone. Disciples still fighting, still standing—injured, exhausted, refusing to fall.
Smoke curled into the sky.
She drew a long breath.
Then turned.
Qin Morian hovered in the air, violet aura swirling calmly around him once more.
Lin Shu clenched her fist.
Blue energy leaked from her skin again—not violent this time, but steady. Controlled.
Her eyes locked onto him.
"Now," she said, voice cold and unwavering, "you will face me."
The blue aura surged.
Qin Morian laughed.
Low.
Delighted.
The sound rolled across the battlefield like a promise of worse to come.
To Be Continued…
