The battlefield had gone silent.

The shattered Graveyard Forest stood motionless, the once-twisting fog burned away by divine light. Only smoke lingered, whispering through the broken air.

Two figures faced each other across the ruined ground —

one cloaked in golden radiance, the other in shadow's lingering breath.

Shaurya.

Yang Ling.

Heaven and Abyss.

The golden aura around Shaurya pulsed gently, his robes torn, his body bloodstained — yet his eyes burned brighter than ever. His expression calm, his breathing steady, his sword gleaming with quiet menace.

Yang Ling's body hovered inches above the ground, grey mist curling around him. His grin had vanished. What replaced it was a grim, sharpened focus. His crimson eyes flickered with disbelief.

He could feel it.

Shaurya's cultivation had changed.

"You… broke through," Yang Ling muttered, voice carrying a tremor of shock.

Shaurya's golden eyes narrowed, his tone deep and unshaken.

"Didn't I tell you?" he said coldly. "No matter how many times darkness rises, light finds its way back."

Yang Ling clicked his tongue. The amusement was gone from his face, replaced by something far more dangerous — respect laced with wrath. "You're still a fool if you think breaking through will change your fate."

Shaurya tilted his head, the corner of his lips curling.

"Then come and test it."

Their gazes locked.

The world slowed.

Even the air seemed to stop moving —

as if the heavens themselves held their breath.

And then—

they vanished.

BOOOOOM!

Two blurs of light — gold and grey — collided midair.

Their swords met, sparks bursting in all directions.

The sound wasn't metal — it was thunder.

Each strike shook the ground.

Each clash split the forest further apart.

Shockwaves rippled outward like waves of an endless storm.

They moved faster than thought — blades flashing, eyes burning.

Dozens of slashes per second, each strike painting streaks of gold and grey across the air. Lightning flashed, winds howled, the very space around them distorted under their speed.

The forest trembled — every explosion leaving behind trails of molten scars.

BOOM!

CRACK!

CLANG!

Each collision released a wave of energy so fierce that stones vaporized, sand turned to glass, and broken gravestones shattered into dust.

Their movements blurred.

Their voices roared.

"Haah!!"

"Raaaah!!"

Golden light met grey shadow in perfect rhythm — neither yielding, neither slowing.

And then—

A white flash erupted.

The shockwave that followed tore a straight line through the forest —

explosions blooming one after another, like dominoes of destruction stretching for miles.

BOOOOOOM!

Dust billowed. Trees splintered. The Graveyard Forest became a wasteland of light and ruin.

Yang Ling shot out from the explosion, leaping back through the air, cloak fluttering violently behind him. His grin returned — faint but sharp. But before he could steady himself—

A ripple of air.

Shaurya appeared behind him —

using Aerial Steps so fast that his form blurred like lightning.

His leg glowed with pink aura.

He twisted in midair and struck.

"Bizarre Kick!"

Yang Ling crossed his arms, blocking just in time —

but the impact still sent him flying backward, crashing through the air like a meteor.

He flipped mid-descent, halting himself meters above the cracked earth, his breath uneven.

Shaurya landed, calm as ever.

His expression cold — eyes burning with quiet dominance.

The air around him warped. The ground cracked beneath his feet.

A soft metallic click echoed —

he sheathed his sword.

His body bent slightly forward — quick-draw stance.

The air around him began to distort, bending toward the blade.

The pressure was suffocating.

The ground around him caved in.

Yang Ling balanced himself midair, his body still regenerating, the gashes closing instantly. He chuckled darkly.

"Trying that trick again? Hmph. Your flashy moves won't work forever!"

Shaurya sighed softly, eyes half-lidded.

"…Quick Draw — Aerial Slash."

Yang Ling laughed, his voice echoing through the smoke.

"You think a single slash can—"

Shaurya's blade moved.

Shiiing.

A single, vertical line of gold split the air.

The strike was so fast, Yang Ling hadn't even finished his sentence before realization hit. His body froze mid-lunge.

A thin line of golden light ran down his chest.

And then —

his body split cleanly in two.

The sound of air tearing caught up only after.

CRRRRACK!

The halves drifted apart —

and before the blood could even fall, Shaurya's sword glowed bright again.

He roared.

His sword became a streak of light.

He swung again and again —

dozens of slashes released in a single breath.

"Ultimate Sword Barrage!"

Golden spiritual slashes filled the air, raining down like celestial blades.

Each one tore through Yang Ling's body, slicing it into countless pieces.

Flesh, shadow, and blood evaporated into shimmering fragments.

Shaurya exhaled, switching his sword from his right to his left hand. His eyes narrowed.

His right hand lifted — sapphire flames coiling around his palm.

The air shimmered blue.

He extended his hand, middle finger brushing thumb.

Flames spiraled tighter, brighter, hungrier.

In a low, cold tone, he spoke:

"Hellfire Maximum Overdrive."

He snapped his fingers.

BOOOOM!

A sapphire inferno erupted outward like a volcano unleashed. The flames roared, devouring the air, the ground, everything in their path.

The inferno swallowed Yang Ling's scattered remains —

and burned them into nothingness.

A blazing line carved across the earth, cutting through the ruins like a scar of divine judgment. When the flames finally dimmed, nothing was left.

Not even ash.

Only silence — and the faint smell of scorched stone.

Shaurya straightened, breathing heavy.

He lowered his hand, exhaled.

Then, softly:

"Come out, Yang Ling. I know you're not dead."

The mist began to stir.

The shadows churned.

From the haze —

Yang Ling's body began to reform.

Limbs, flesh, veins, eyes — all regenerating, faster than ever.

In mere seconds, he was whole again.

He laughed.

"Did you really think that would be enough?"

Shaurya's jaw tightened. His expression hardened.

In his heart, he spoke.

Systu... I really need your help. How can I kill him?

The system's golden interface flickered to life before his mind.

[ System Voice: ]

"I will use your 500 Dharma points."

Yang Ling roared, lunging forward. Shaurya snapped back to focus, his right hand surrounded by violet energy. He slammed it downward.

"Gravitational Manipulation!"

CRACK!

The air distorted violently.

An immense invisible pressure slammed Yang Ling into the ground.

The soil cratered under his weight. He struggled, snarling, his arms trembling against the force.

Shaurya grit his teeth.

"Systu, do it quicker!"

[ System Voice: ]

"Host, the true source of his power — his original soul, and the countless souls he's devoured — they are not inside his body. They're protected within an External Nexus Object."

Shaurya's eyes widened in disbelief. "A Nexus Object…?"

[ System Voice: ]

"Think of it as a cultivation life-jar. Every time you destroy his current body, the Nexus reconstructs him. You're merely killing a projection. To end him, destroy the Nexus Object itself."

Shaurya's heart pounded.

"What would a monster like him protect his life with?"

[ System Voice: ]

"Scan the area for anything spiritually hollow, yet radiating the energy of countless souls."

Yang Ling roared beneath the crushing pressure, cracks forming on the ground.

His grey aura exploded outward, shattering the gravitational field. He rose, charging once more.

Shaurya dodged, barely avoiding a swing. He side-stepped again — and then realization struck his eyes.

He reached to his wrists, pulling free two silver bracelets — the Weight Bracelets, Nine-Stars engraved on both bracelets shining.

He smirked. "Let's see how you handle these."

He threw them forward.

They struck Yang Ling mid-charge — pinning him under their crushing weight.

The ground beneath him shattered. Yang Ling roared, struggling.

Shaurya extended his hand, his voice sharp:

"Gravitational Manipulation — Eightyfold!"

CRASHHH!

The gravity multiplied. The earth caved beneath Yang Ling, his knees cracking under the pressure.

Shaurya closed his eyes, extending his divine sense.

The forest spread before his mind's eye — every ripple, every vibration, every hidden pulse.

And then he found it.

Far south — a faint energy.

Protected. Concealed.

A barrier.

His eyes snapped open. "Got you."

He vanished.

Yang Ling's voice bellowed from behind, muffled under the weight. "What are you doing—?!"

But Shaurya was already gone, streaking across the forest using Aerial Steps, the world blurring past him.

He reached the barrier — a dome of golden light humming faintly in the distance.

He activated his Immortal Eyes. His pupils gleamed gold, scanning every pattern.

He saw it — the weak point.

His fist glowed with golden energy.

He slid to a halt, feet carving the ground.

"Dragon Fist!"

A dragon of golden aura erupted from his strike, roaring across the barrier.

The impact shattered it apart like glass.

BOOOOOOM!

The explosion cleared the mist, revealing a sight that froze even Shaurya momentarily.

A golden statue — Yang Ling's likeness — stood bound in skeletal chains, eyes glowing grey, an aura of pure malice bleeding from it.

Yang Ling's voice echoed behind him, closer now.

"You shouldn't have found that."

Shaurya turned just in time — the ghost blade descending toward him.

He smiled.

A golden barrier flared from his body, bursting outward.

Yang Ling's strike rebounded violently, hurling him backward.

Shaurya stepped forward, silver aura gathering around his fist.

"Mountain Breaking Fist!"

He slammed his punch into Yang Ling's face.

The force sent the ghost cultivator crashing through trees, his body twisting midair like a ragdoll before slamming into the dirt.

Shaurya exhaled slowly.

His gaze returned to the statue.

"This ends now."

Golden energy flared around him, roaring like a storm.

Behind him, the air shimmered —

a towering Spirit Body of golden light formed, looking like him and mirroring his every movement.

It stood like a divine giant, its eyes glowing like suns.

The forest trembled.

The clouds parted.

Even Yang Ling, rising from the crater, froze — fear flashing across his face for the first time.

Shaurya smiled faintly, calm, resolute.

He adjusted his stance.

Left hand resting on the scabbard.

Right hand gripping the hilt.

The Spirit Body mimicked him perfectly.

"Divine Sword Art — End of Darkness!"

SHHHIIIIIING!

He drew his sword in one blinding motion.

The Spirit Body did the same —

and their movements aligned, becoming one.

A colossal golden slash erupted, engulfing the world in light.

The ground split for miles, fire and radiance tearing apart everything in its path.

The statue disintegrated instantly, its golden frame melting into molten dust.

The blast carved a crater across ten kilometers —

a single scar across the earth, glowing like a divine wound.

When it ended, silence returned.

Shaurya dropped to one knee, breathing heavy, his sword trembling in his hand.

The Spirit Body dissolved into embers.

He smiled faintly, lifting his head toward the fading dust.

"…Finally."

He stood weakly, using his sword for support.

The mist thinned. The wind returned.

Behind him, a rasping cough echoed.

He turned.

Yang Ling's body trembled violently.

Black smoke bled from his skin, his bones visible through translucent flesh.

His once-divine form was reduced to something pitiful, fragile — dying.

Their eyes met one last time.

Shaurya's expression softened into a calm, mocking smile.

"It's over."

Yang Ling's teeth clenched.

He screamed, raising his sword high — black energy coiling around it like a storm.

"Ghost Annihilation Strike!"

He slashed downward, a blade of darkness racing toward Shaurya.

Shaurya smirked.

"Ultimate Sword Strike!"

Golden and grey slashes collided midair —

the resulting explosion neutralized both, vanishing in a storm of sparks.

Yang Ling roared in desperation, summoning both hands.

Black and grey energy gathered, swirling violently into a growing sphere.

"Dark Sphere!"

Shaurya raised his left hand.

Sapphire flames spiraled around his palm, the air distorting from heat.

He thrust his hand forward —

a flaming cannon of sapphire erupted, roaring through the air.

The two attacks collided.

BOOOOOOM!

Shockwaves spread across the forest. Trees snapped. The ground rippled.

When the smoke cleared, Yang Ling staggered back, trembling, fear flickering in his eyes.

Shaurya straightened, exhaling deeply, calm once again.

His aura shifted — turning violet-gold.

The air itself hummed.

He raised his right hand to the heavens.

Above, the dark sky began to change —

golden clouds swirling into formation, forming a vast celestial portal.

He roared with divine fury.

"EVERYTHING SUPPRESSING PALM!"

From the sky, a colossal golden hand descended, fingers spread wide, radiating divine pressure.

The air bent. The ground cracked.

The very forest bowed beneath its weight.

Yang Ling's eyes widened, terror finally surfacing.

"NOOO!"

He thrust both palms upward, grey and crimson light bursting forth.

"Annihilation Cannon!"

A beam of death collided with the descending palm.

The collision shook the world — shockwaves tearing trees from their roots.

For a moment, it was a contest of pure will — darkness against divine might.

Then Shaurya's voice echoed through the chaos, low, steady, final:

> "Truth burns the false.

Light devours the shadows.

In the end — all evil kneels."

The golden hand pressed down.

BOOOOOOM!!!

The explosion that followed consumed everything in sight.

heavenly — cosmic — magnificent.

A single, flawless detonation of light and dust that erased the darkness once and for all.

When it faded — silence.

Shaurya stood alone amidst a field of ruin.

No trace of Yang Ling remained.

A golden window flickered before his eyes.

> [ System Notification ]

Congratulations, Host.

Evil Cultivator Yang Ling eliminated.

Reward: +10,000 Dharma Points.

Shaurya exhaled — relief flooding his tired body.

A slow, triumphant smile curved his lips.

Across the battlefield, the disciples of the Sanatan Flame Sect and Moonlight Pavilion finally stirred.

Their faces pale. Their eyes wide.

Not one dared to speak.

They had witnessed the impossible.

Shaurya turned slowly. His golden aura began to fade.

His pupils returned to deep black.

The Sudarshan Chakra mark dissolved from his forehead.

His divine form — gone.

He took one step forward.

Then another.

And suddenly — his body faltered.

The sealed injuries burst open all at once.

Blood spilled down his body.

His eyes widened slightly before his knees buckled.

He fell — face-first onto the scorched ground.

"Shaurya!" Lin Shu's voice cracked the silence.

She ran — faster than thought.

Behind her, the elders and disciples followed, hearts pounding.

They reached him in seconds.

Lin Shu dropped to her knees, cradling his head in her lap. Her eyes were wide, her lips trembling.

"Shaurya… hey—" she whispered, voice breaking. "Don't you dare fall asleep now…"

Shaurya blinked, a faint smile curving his lips despite the blood.

"Nothing much," he said softly. "Just… pushed my body a little too much. This time, maybe… really too much."

She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. "You idiot…"

He smiled faintly. "But don't worry. A good rest… and I'll be fine again."

Lin Shu hugged him tightly, burying her face against his shoulder.

The others exhaled in unison — relief flooding their faces.

The forest was gone.

The evil had fallen.

The light had triumphed.

Once again, Shaurya proved —

no matter how strong evil becomes,

it is destined to fall.

To Be Continued…

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