Chapter 3274: Change In The Demonic Form

Hearing the Emperor’s words, Little Shrubby answered with a low, resonant growl.

The Emperor gripped the Thunder God Drum and began to beat it methodically. Each strike sent thunder tramlines through the air, thickening the Lightning Dao Traces and weaving Dao Insights into the sky itself.

Little Shrubby began to pulse with flames and electricity. His form swelled with power until lightning wrapped his fur in a halo and fire licked his flanks. He became a living coil of storm and flame.

WHOOSH.

Little Shrubby began to run in tight circles, the Emperor beating the drum in cadence, and slowly the pair wove a vertical pillar of whirling lightning. The column rose, crashing into the fog of baleful energy above the crypt.

The pillar hummed with Dao resonance. To the Ephemera inside the barrier, nothing seemed different. Their ritual cocooned them and dulled their senses. They could not see the tiny black snake poke through the weave to mark the exact flaw in the barrier.

Minutes crawled, each beat of the drum making the pillar denser, the Dao Traces and Insights thicker.

Little Shrubby’s circling accelerated. The Emperor’s palms bled lightning into the column. It became a living needle, a focused storage of storm Dao waiting to be unleashed on the precise seam Xiao Yin would mark.

Back at the front, Lin Mu and the others were exhausted and bruised. Their attacks came in a relentless cadence that slowly wore the Titan’s attention, but each strike cost them Qi and focus.

The Ice Drake had the worst of it.

He stood like a frozen bastion between root and blade, his scales black with taint, his breath a steady geyser of frost that tried to hamper the Titan’s healing. The Elder’s throat rasped. The baleful energy infiltrating the Titan burned into his blood like rust.

Lin Mu watched the Titan converge its attention, saw a new set of living thorns grow and lunge at the Grand Elder, saw the Abbot’s Wisdom Flames slice uselessly into a shell of growing rot and watch the Patriarch’s sword arcs, sharp and precise, cut only to be healed within breaths.

He switched posture, stepping back a measure to lure a particularly massive branch into a counter strike. The Titan obliged, and in that crease of movement Lin Mu slipped his Sword Intent into a wedge.

The Grand Elder saw the opening and fed it with a rush of fire-imbued sword Qi. The Patriarch followed with a wide arc that sent fragments of splintered wood cascading outward.

At the same time, Xiao Yin’s small head glimmered from the weakness she had marked. Her hiss cut through the link in Lin Mu’s mind.

"It is ready," came the tiny voice. She had scraped a mark into the outer layer, and the darkness in that place pulsed like a heart.

"Finally..." Lin Mu muttered before hearing the Patriarch.

"We cannot break it head on," the Patriarch said, voice low. "I need a moment to gather enough sword intent without being interrupted."

Hearing that, Lin Mu made his decision.

"Patriarch, you can gather your focus and prepare your strongest attack. I’ll hold the Titan in place along with the others," Lin Mu stated.

"Are you sure?" The Patriarch had faith in Lin Mu, but the facts showed that the Titan was powerful enough to face all of them at once.

"Yes, I still have another card up my sleeve," Lin Mu said with confidence.

"Very well," the Patriarch replied. "Huo, take over!" The man’s voice was firm as he slid backward, drawing distance to begin focusing his strength.

"On it!" Grand Elder Huo didn’t need any further instructions. His trust in Lin Mu ran deep, forged through countless battles and trials.

But instead of immediately attacking the Titan, Lin Mu stood perfectly still and began to chant. His lips moved in a rhythm that carried weight, the air trembling faintly with the resonance of each word.

The Abbot turned his head, curious.

At first, he assumed it was a defensive scripture or an inner calming technique, but the tone was wrong... too violent, too fiery.

A moment later, his eyes widened as he felt Lin Mu’s aura swell with something unfamiliar and overwhelming. This was not the Calming Heart Sutra, nor was it the Healing Heart Sutra.

This was something else entirely.

Instead of serenity or benevolence, what poured from Lin Mu was ferocity... an aura that reminded the Abbot of the wrathful guardians of Buddhist lore. It was a power born not of peace, but of controlled rage.

"Ignite thy heart as a furnace, let your rage fuel your strength, and unleash rampage upon the worlds. Behold—the Burning Heart Sutra!" Lin Mu chanted.

As his voice echoed through the battlefield, his body began to shift.

His frame expanded, muscles bulging like molten iron being forged in the heart of a star. His limbs elongated, the joints cracking like splitting timber. His spine arched and grew, each vertebra flaring with dark crimson light.

Dense fur sprouted across his skin, the color of midnight and blood mixed together.

Four horns began to pierce through his head, each gleaming with an eerie, metallic sheen. An inverted triangle symbol burned into his chest as he grew larger and larger, his demonic transformation finally stabilizing.

Within moments, Lin Mu towered nearly twelve meters tall; an overwhelming presence, almost rivaling the twenty-meter height of the Treant Titan before him.

This was none other than Lin Mu’s Demonic Form of the Burning Heart Sutra.

But something about it was different this time.

Unlike before, when his demonic form had resembled a fierce bear with two jagged horns, he now possessed four. The additional pair curved outward like the horns of a Tyrant Bull, their surface gleaming faintly with lightning-like lines of red energy.

Even Lin Mu himself was startled by the change.

’This form... it’s stronger and larger than before. And these horns... did my body cultivation and progress in the technique cause this change?’ Lin Mu thought, briefly analyzing the transformation.

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