The chilling mountain wind sweeping across Mirror Lake smelled heavily of copper and ozone.
The appearance of the three Early Stage Tier 3 demonic wolves had completely shattered the fragile balance of the battlefield.
The ordinary Bone Forging guards and clan cultivators stood paralyzed, the breath caught in their throats.
Facing hundreds of Tier 1 beasts was a grueling endurance match, but facing three creatures that wielded the raw, terrifying might of the Blood Quenching Realm was an execution.
A single sweep of those massive claws could tear through a dozen defensive ranks in the blink of an eye.
At the front of the lines, the City Lord clamped his jaw so hard the veins bulged along his neck.
Forcing down the cold dread pooling in his stomach, he drew a ragged breath and stepped forward, his eyes never leaving the glowing violet predator in the center.
“Patriarch David! Patriarch Lewis!” the City Lord barked, his voice laced with the thunderous resonance of his 3rd-level Blood Quenching Qi to cut through the paralyzing terror of the troops.
“We have no choice! If these three beasts hit the main line, the entire city guard will be wiped out in moments! You two must hold off the white and black wolves. I will take the violet one. Once I sever its head, I will circle back and help you finish the other two!”
Patriarch Lucas David and Patriarch Lewis exchanged a grim, fleeting glance.
The decades of petty political squabbles and merchant rivalry between the David and Lewis clans evaporated into utter insignificance.
They had reached the edge of the cliff.
Behind them were their clansmen, their bloodlines, and their children.
If they retreated half a step, Aurora City would be turned into a charnel pit before morning.
“Understood!” Lucas shouted, his knuckles turning white as he drew his weapon.
The three powerhouses moved simultaneously, their internal reserves detonating like coiled springs.
The City Lord gripped a heavy, five-foot curved saber forged from scarlet steel, its blade humming with dense, crimson-tinted Qi.
Patriarch Lucas wielded a four-foot double-edged straight sword of polished blue steel, radiating the calm, frigid clarity of flowing water.
Patriarch Lewis flicked his wrists, and a pair of pitch-black daggers slipped from his wide sleeves, their edges gleaming with a matte, light-devouring finish.
Boom!
The shale beneath their boots exploded into clouds of sharp pebbles as the three masters shot across the bloodied reeds, hurtling directly toward the three towering beasts.
The demonic wolves did not cower.
Sensing the approaching human vital energy, their crimson eyes flared with ravenous savagery.
The violet wolf let out a jagged, crackling snarl and leaped forward, while the white and black beasts split to the flanks, intercepting the two patriarchs.
The clashes erupted with concussive force.
The City Lord collided head-on with the violet beast.
As an appointed official of the Triad Kingdom, he had been granted access to the royal archives, mastering the Raging Crimson Saber Art—a High-Rank Mortal Grade martial skill.
With every horizontal slash of his red steel blade, crescent arcs of pressurized crimson Qi detached from the edge, shearing deep trenches into the earth and violently deflecting the wolf’s lightning-wrapped claws.
Though the violet wolf was slightly more tyrannical than its kin, the City Lord’s foundation stood firmly at the 3rd level of the Blood Quenching Realm.
Relying on superior technique, refined combat discipline, and relentless offensive pressure, he quickly seized the upper hand, forcing the beast into a defensive retreat.
On the left flank, Patriarch Lucas David engaged the frost-covered white wolf.
The beast lashed out with a massive paw, sending sharp icicles hurtling through the air like iron ballista bolts.
Lucas did not retreat.
Channeling his 1st-level Blood Quenching Qi through his azure blade, he unleashed the signature hereditary technique of his bloodline: the Blue Lotus Sword Art, a Mid-Rank Mortal Grade technique.
Swish!
Swish!
Swish!
With every thrust and parry, ethereal, pale-blue sword beams shaped like blooming lotus petals drifted through the air.
The delicate petals were packed with razor-sharp energy beams .
Whenever the white wolf attempted to close the distance, the blooming blue lotuses detonated against its thick fur, searing frost-bitten flesh and gouging deep lacerations along its flanks.
Initially, the beast’s raw animal ferocity allowed it to trade blows evenly with the patriarch.
But as thirty minutes of brutal combat wore on, Lucas’s veteran instincts took control.
He maneuvered with calculating precision, systematically whittling down the beast’s agility, parrying its lunges, and steadily overpowering its defenses.
Patriarch Lewis was locked in a desperate struggle against the abyssal black wolf.
His martial style was built entirely upon agility, shadow-stepping footwork, and lethal close-quarters strikes with twin daggers.
Against human martial artists, his rapid thrusts toward throat and heart meridians were terrifyingly effective.
Against a massive, armored beast, his style was practically crippled.
Lewis moved like a dark phantom, darting beneath the beast’s jaws and landing five, six, seven rapid strikes against the wolf’s ribcage.
Yet the twin black daggers lacked the kinetic mass to pierce the beast’s dense musculature; they merely scratched the surface of the black wolf’s coarse, hardened hide, leaving shallow streaks of blood that only served to whip the creature into a blind, murderous frenzy.
The black wolf swung its heavy tail like a battering ram, clipping Lewis’s shoulder and sending the rival patriarch tumbling across the mud, coughing a mouthful of blood as he scrambled to regain his footing.
While the three titans fought their life-and-death duels, the main defensive line fell into chaos.
An entire hour had slipped away, and deep night had fully settled over the basin.
With the City Lord and the two patriarchs completely occupied by the Tier 3 beasts, there was no one left at the vanguard to suppress the High and Peak Tier 2 beasts that occasionally broke through the tree line.
Massive Ironhide Boars with tusks like steel pikes and armored Mountain Apes crashed into the human formations.
“Form the square! Lock shields!” Eldest Uncle John screamed, swinging his broadsword to deflect a claw.
To bring down a single High Tier 2 beast—a monster equivalent to a 7th or 8th level Bone Forging human—four or five veteran guards had to coordinate their attacks, taking turns absorbing bone-splintering impacts.
Inevitably, heavy casualties began to mount.
Screams of agony echoed through the dark.
Armor crumpled, bones snapped, and several brave guards were torn to shreds before the defenders could drive spears through the beasts’ throats.
Blood soaked the shore, pooling around the reeds in thick, dark ribbons.
Right as despair threatened to overwhelm the frontline guards, a victorious roar cut through the clamor.
SPLAT!
On the western shore, Patriarch Lucas David saw his opening.
As the white wolf stumbled from blood loss, Lucas executed the supreme stance of the Blue Lotus Sword Art.
His azure blade whistled through the night air, leaving a brilliant arc of blue light that cleaved clean through the white wolf’s throat!
The colossal severed head flew into the shallows, splashing dark blood across the reeds as the massive carcass collapsed with a heavy thud.
Breathing heavily, his robes drenched in sweat and beast blood, Lucas did not rest for a single breath.
Seeing Patriarch Lewis cornered against the rocky embankment by the furious black wolf, Lucas pivoted on his heel, kicked off the shale, and launched himself across the battlefield.
“Hold on, Lewis!” Lucas bellowed.
With Lucas’s heavy azure sword drawing the beast’s focus, Lewis seized the opportunity.
The two veteran clan leaders combined their strength, coordinating front and rear strikes.
Within ten minutes of relentless assault, Lucas drove his blade through the wolf’s left eye while Lewis buried both black daggers into the soft flesh beneath its throat, finally dropping the black beast into the dirt.
By that time, the central duel had already drawn to a close.
The City Lord stood atop the corpse of the violet wolf, his red steel saber buried to the hilt in the monster’s skull.
Sparks of residual violet lightning sputtered harmlessly along the beast’s singed coat before extinguishing into the cold mud.
With the three Tier 3 horrors eradicated, the three Blood Quenching titans immediately charged back toward the main battle line.
Their intervention was swift and devastating.
With their overwhelming strength, the City Lord and the two patriarchs systematically hunted down every lingering High and Peak Tier 2 beast, cleaving through the armored monsters and stabilizing the crumbling human wall.
The mounting casualties abruptly halted, and the exhausted guards collapsed against their battered shields, gasping for air.
A collective sigh of profound relief rippled through the ranks.
The three Tier 3 wolves were dead, the high-tier predators were purged, and only a scattered trickle of low-tier beasts remained in the reeds.
For a brief moment, the exhausted martial artists dared to believe the nightmare had finally passed.
Then, the mountain spoke.
GROOOOOOOOAAAR—!
The sound was not a howl.
It was a guttural, earth-splitting roar that seemed to tear straight from the subterranean crust of the Eastern Mountain Forest Range.
The shockwave rolled across Mirror Lake like an physical hammer.
The surface of the water heaved in violent ripples, and the sheer acoustic pressure caused several young disciples in the rear ranks to drop their weapons, clutching their bleeding ears in sheer agony.
The primeval pine trees at the edge of the forest did not merely rustle; they snapped like brittle toothpicks. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Crashing through the shattered timber, a colossal mountain of dark brown fur stepped into the silver moonlight.
It was a monstrous bear, standing over twenty feet tall.
Its massive limbs were as thick as ancient tree trunks, and its coarse fur was encrusted with hardened granite deposits that formed natural, impervious armor plating.
Its yellow, slit pupils burned with ancient, primeval bloodlust, and from its massive frame radiated an aura so suffocating, so heavy and dense, that the very air in the basin seemed to turn to lead.
Everyone shuddered in bone-chilling terror.
The pressure rolling off the beast made the previous three wolves feel like mere hounds.
Mid-Rank Tier 3!
A Mid-Rank Tier 3 demonic beast—a living calamity wielding the destructive combat might of a 4th to 6th level Blood Quenching Realm titan!
The faces of Patriarch Lucas David and Patriarch Lewis turned completely ashen.
Their knees nearly buckled beneath the oppressive weight of the beast’s presence.
An Early Stage Tier 3 wolf was already a grueling trial that pushed them to their limits.
A Mid-Rank Tier 3 behemoth possessed defensive hide and raw kinetic force that no 1st-level Blood Quenching cultivator could hope to pierce.
Even the City Lord—a 3rd-level master—was hopelessly outmatched.
Yet, amidst the suffocating despair that threatened to drown the entire army, the City Lord was the first to snap back to reality.
His face was grim, etched with lines of terrifying finality, but his eyes were completely devoid of panic.
Reaching into his inner robe, he pulled out a small, intricately carved jade vial, uncorking it to reveal three crimson, pungent medicinal pills that radiated an unstable, violent aura.
“Gentlemen,” the City Lord’s voice was dead calm, dropping to a low, heavy whisper as he addressed the two pale patriarchs.
“We have only one path left before us. I have three Berserk Pills. We must consume them. It is the only way Aurora City survives tonight.”
Lucas David and Patriarch Lewis stared at the three blood-red pills, and their faces dimmed into profound, suffocating sorrow.
As the heads of ancient martial clans, they knew full well what the Berserk Pill was.
It was a forbidden, desperate elixir.
The moment the medicine dissolved within the stomach, it did not gently nourish the meridians; it ruthlessly ignited and incinerated every drop of the user’s hidden bodily potential and latent vital essence.
It forced a massive, violent eruption of artificial power, temporarily elevating the cultivator’s strength by multiple minor realms.
However, the cost was absolute and irreversible.
Once the berserk medicinal storm exhausted itself, the user’s meridians would become permanently scarred, and their dantian would turn into dead ash.
From that moment forward, they would never be able to advance their cultivation base by even a fraction of a millimeter.
Their martial road would be permanently severed, leaving them trapped in their current realm for the rest of their natural lives.
For proud martial artists who had dedicated decades to pursuing the higher realms, consuming this pill was a fate worse than death.
Lucas turned his head slightly, his gaze drifting past the defensive barricades toward the rear ranks.
There stood his sons John and Miller, his grandsons Reiner and Rovman, and the youthful bloodlines of his clan.
He looked back at the advancing twenty-foot titan of granite and fur.
A tragic, fearless smile crept across Lucas’s weathered lips.
“So be it,” Lucas murmured softly.
Patriarch Lewis, too, let out a hollow, bitter laugh, his eyes flashing with desperate ferocity.
“Better to be an old cripple than to see my family wiped from the earth.”
Gritting their teeth until blood seeped between their lips, the two patriarchs extended their trembling hands and took two of the crimson pills from the City Lord’s palm, while the City Lord gripped the third.
Together, without another word of hesitation, the three men swallowed the forbidden elixirs.
BOOM!
The reaction was instantaneous and terrifying.
Violent, blood-red steam erupted from every pore of their skin.
The veins across their necks and foreheads swelled into thick, pulsing cords, their eyes turning stark crimson as a chaotic, berserk spiritual aura exploded outward from their bodies like a detonating volcano!
The suffocating fatigue that had weighed down their limbs evaporated into nothingness.
Within their chests, a boundless, unbridled tide of burning power roared to life, elevating their combat strength to heights they had never experienced before.
Holding their weapons tight, wrapped in raging crimson mists of sacrificed potential, the three titans turned their savage gazes toward the towering mountain bear.