Ling Feng's silence seemed to confirm his suspicions. The Master of the Amethyst Mansion's eyes narrowed with a triumphant glint. "Your Emperor, he is weakening, isn't he? And as he weakens, so do you!" His laughter rang out, harsh and mocking, echoing through the desolate battlefield. The Old Beggar joined in, his raspy cackles adding to the chorus of derision.
Ling Feng slowly raised his head, his expression calm despite his bruised and battered appearance. The staff in his hand began to glow with a faint, ominous light, its surface pulsating as if it were alive. "Perhaps," Ling Feng replied evenly, his voice carrying a chilling note of resolve.
Before his enemies could react, Ling Feng's voice thundered across the battlefield. "Awaken, O Dragon!" he bellowed, lifting the staff high above his head. The bone staff twisted and writhed in his grip, transforming as if infused with a new life. A deafening roar erupted from it, shaking the very fabric of reality.
GRAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!
The roar resounded in every corner of the world, causing the ground to tremble and the skies to darken. The Master of the Amethyst Mansion's triumphant smirk vanished, replaced by a look of pure horror. "No!" he thought, dread creeping into his heart.
In an instant, Ling Feng appeared before them, moving with blinding speed. He swung the now-glowing staff, channelling a vast, unimaginable amount of Qi into it.
Celestial Execution!
The air crackled with raw power as Ling Feng brought the staff down on the Old Beggar. The strike was merciless, obliterating the Old Beggar in a burst of light. He didn't even have time to scream before he was reduced to nothingness, his very existence wiped out by the force of Ling Feng's attack.
The staff, now reduced to half its original size, continued to glow with an ethereal light. Ling Feng wasted no time; he turned to face the Master of the Amethyst Mansion, his eyes burning with fury. The Master of the Amethyst Mansion recoiled in fear, raising his arms as if to ward off the inevitable blow.
"Save me, LORD!" he cried out, desperation lacing his voice. But his plea went unanswered. Ling Feng struck with the staff, the blow shattering the Master of the Amethyst Mansion into a million fragments, each piece dissolving into the air like ashes caught in the wind.
The battlefield fell silent, serenity descending as the echoes of battle faded. Ling Feng stumbled to the ground, the staff in his hand crumbling into dust. His chest heaved with exhaustion, each breath a struggle. He knew the Master of the Amethyst Mansion had been correct. From the very start of the battle, he had felt his strength draining, weakening with every passing second. It wasn't because the Emperor was losing power, but rather, the other Dragon Generals were diverting their energy to confront their own enemies.
Ling Feng sighed heavily, feeling the weight of fatigue settle in his bones. Yet, just as he closed his eyes, something appeared before him. A shimmering, ethereal structure materialized, floating in the air—a Purple Mansion, its form glowing with an otherworldly light.
"What!?" Ling Feng's eyes widened in shock as the massive doors of the mansion swung open. Emerging from its depths was none other than the Master of the Amethyst Mansion, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.
"Hahahahaha! Surprised, aren't you?" the Master of the Amethyst Mansion crowed, his voice dripping with arrogance. "The Purple Mansion my Lord bestowed upon me is far greater than you could ever imagine. When you struck down the Old Beggar, I took the seed granted to him by our Lord and sacrificed it to the Mansion. In return, it granted me resurrection! Do you see now? Even the power of the Dragons is nothing before our Lord's gifts!"
He strode toward Ling Feng, grabbing him by the neck with one hand. Ling Feng's body hung limply, too weak to resist. "Now, what should I do with you?" the Master of the Amethyst Mansion mused, his voice filled with cruel delight. "You have exhausted the power of the Dragon Generals, and your precious staff is nothing but dust. You are powerless against me!"
His laughter echoed around them, filling the air with its malicious joy. Yet, as he continued, his voice faltered. He looked down at Ling Feng, whose expression was strangely calm. No fear, no anger—just an unsettling emptiness. An expressionless face stared back at him, and in that moment, the Master of the Amethyst Mansion's laughter died in his throat, replaced by a growing sense of unease.
"You fool," Ling Feng sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Do you actually think you can kill me?"
The Master of the Amethyst Mansion frowned, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What?" he muttered.
"You think I'd believe you were resurrected at full strength? What lies. Even though I'm not a Dragon General, I'm still a Grandmaster, you idiot." Ling Feng's voice was calm, almost bored, but each word cut like a blade. The Master of the Amethyst Mansion's face twisted with fury. He tightened his grip around Ling Feng's throat, his fingers digging into his flesh.
Ling Feng only laughed, a mocking sound that echoed through the empty air. Before the Master of the Amethyst Mansion could react further, the scenery around them blurred and shifted. The world twisted, and in an instant, they were no longer on the barren battlefield.
They found themselves standing amidst the ruins of a once-grand estate. The landscape was desolate, marked by devastation like the rest of the continent. In the centre of the ruin stood a tall pole, a tattered flag fluttering at its peak. The character of "Ling" was boldly emblazoned on it.
"Ah, my clan," Ling Feng said with a detached tone, barely sparing the pole a glance as he reached out to caress it with his fingers, the fabric of the flag rippling under his touch.
The Master of the Amethyst Mansion's eyes narrowed. He had no time to waste on sentimentality; he needed to kill Ling Feng now. His muscles tensed, and with a feral roar, he lunged at Ling Feng, the amethyst armour around him glowing with fiery brilliance.
"Die!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the ruins as he charged forward.
WHOOSH!
Ling Feng moved with the grace of a shadow, pulling the flagpole from the ground in a single, fluid motion. He sidestepped the Master's attack, his movements too quick to track. As he pivoted, he infused the pole with his Qi, causing it to glow faintly.
BAM!
The pole struck the Master of the Amethyst Mansion's armor with a dull thud. The sound resonated through the air, followed by a moment of silence.
CRACK!
A spiderweb of cracks spread across the gleaming amethyst armor, each one emanating from the point where the pole had struck. The Master of the Amethyst Mansion's eyes widened in horror.
"No!" he shouted, his voice laced with disbelief and fear.
"Oh, come on! Why do you keep repeating yourself?" Ling Feng said, rolling his eyes in irritation. With a swift, powerful motion, he swung the pole again. This time, the impact shattered the armor completely, sending fragments of amethyst flying in all directions.
SHATTER!
The pole pierced through the Master of the Amethyst Mansion's chest with a sickening crunch, driving deep into his flesh. He gasped, blood spilling from his lips as he looked down at the pole protruding from his body, his eyes filled with shock and agony.
"This cannot be," the Pill King gasped, blood dribbling from his lips as he crumpled to the ground.
"Oh, but it is," Ling Feng replied coldly, his voice echoing through the desolate ruins. He stood over the fallen Pill King, watching the light fade from his eyes, ensuring the man would not rise again. Satisfied with the sight of the unmoving corpse, Ling Feng let out a sigh and lowered himself to sit among the rubble beside it.
"You know," he mused aloud, looking down at the lifeless body, "I think I need to retire." As if to punctuate his statement, he drove the pole into the Pill King's head with a sickening crunch, the sound of bone splintering echoing through the air.
Silence settled over the ruins, broken only by the soft wind rustling through the charred remnants of the Ling Clan estate. Ling Feng sat there, the pole still embedded in the Pill King's shattered skull, alone among the ruins and the echoes of battles long past.
He exhaled slowly, the weight of his decision settling in his mind. "Yeah, it's time. I've filled my quota."
"The Empire better not tax me after I retire," Ling Feng grumbled, shifting his gaze to the horizon where the morning sky blazed on.
True Grandmaster – Ling Feng!