Ming Niang swung his spear horizontally, bracing it like an iron shield.
Boing!
The blazing slash crashed against the bone spear, sparks flying as metal clashed with metal in a sharp, ringing clash. The sheer force of the strike tore Ming Niang off his feet, dragging him across the scorched earth with ragged grunts.
Then—boom!—the slash exploded outward in a fiery burst, flames engulfing the battlefield in a roaring inferno.
Ming Niang's unconscious body was flung skyward like a ragdoll, soaring over the chaos of war. With a series of thunderous thuds, he slammed into the ground and rolled violently, kicking up a cloud of dust that choked the air.
With deadly slashes that tore through their enemies, the Wolfmen watched in shock as their leader fell unconscious. Almost a dozen warriors rushed forward, instinctively drawn to their fallen chief.
"Clan Leader Ming Niang, wake up! Wake up!" a tribesman shouted, shaking the motionless body, but Ming Niang remained completely out cold.
Suddenly, faint beams of reddish-yellow light pierced through the thick, dark clouds overhead, slowly intensifying as they descended toward the battlefield. Then, as if the heavens themselves had exploded, a blinding white light flooded the sky, revealing the true daylight.
Soldiers and Wolfmen alike froze mid-fight, their gazes rising upward to witness the spectacle.
Hovering high above was a figure clad in the gleaming metal armor of the Sunrise Empire. A black cape billowed behind him, embroidered with a golden sun emblem at its center. His golden war helmet bore a crimson plume, the metal plate extending protectively to his broad shoulders.
The man was tall and imposing, with a black beard trimmed sharply along the edges of his face—an expression that spoke of a seasoned warrior in his forties. Resting casually on his shoulder was a massive halberd, its blade gleaming under the radiant light.
This was Qin Xiaotian, the third-ranked most powerful general of the Sunrise Empire—and elder brother to Qin Mu.
"How dare you! A mere Wolf Clan challenge the might of the great Sunrise Empire?" His voice thundered across the battlefield like a rolling storm.
The warriors of the Sunrise Empire immediately dropped to one knee, weapons raised high in salute.
"GENERAL QIN XIAOTIAN!"
Their unified roar crashed across the battlefield like a tidal wave.
The Wolfmen trembled. Several instinctively stepped back, their throats dry, their bodies shivering under the suffocating pressure descending from the heavens. Even the air seemed to bend—no, submit—to the general's presence.
Qin Xiaotian lifted his halberd.
The sky darkened once more. Clouds churned violently, spiraling into a vortex of red and gold above him. Sunlight bent unnaturally, the world twisting as if pulled toward the halberd's edge.
"Those who dare offend my Empire—"
The halberd vibrated, humming with destructive light.
"—shall be reduced to ashes."
He swung.
A blazing arc ripped through the battlefield like divine punishment.
The earth split open, a searing ravine carving across hundreds of meters. Wolfmen caught in the radiant path didn't even scream—their bodies flash-vaporized into drifting ash as the shockwave thundered through their ranks.
The survivors staggered, pale and shaking.
"Th-That general… h-he's flying…"
"Impossible! Only someone at Sky Lord Level could—"
Before the warrior could finish, Qin Xiaotian drifted downward, descending with effortless grace. The moment his boots touched the earth—
WHOOOOM!
A violent blast of wind erupted from him, sending several Wolfmen flying unconscious. Cracks spiderwebbed across the ground from the impact.
His gaze swept the battlefield—cold, disdainful, merciless.
"Bring the Wolf Clan's chieftains before me," he commanded, his voice rumbling like thunder trapped within iron. "Every soul that dares stand against the Sunrise Empire today… dies."
"YES, GENERAL!"
Sunrise soldiers roared and charged, their morale exploding like a rising storm.
The Wolfmen, meanwhile, stared at their fallen leader—Ming Niang—fear twisting their expressions. Without him, they were like a body with its spine cut.
Then—
Ming Niang's fingers twitched.
A sharp, wet cough burst from his mouth—
PFFSH!
Blood sprayed across the dirt in a violent crimson splash.
Ming Niang's breath rattled harshly in his throat.
The moment the Wolfmen saw their leader stir back to life, the fire in their eyes reignited. Their lost morale surged like a beast awakened.
"All warriors, listen up!" the Wolfman supporting Ming Niang shouted.
This was Ming Ling—second leader of the Wolf Clan's rampage unit. A man in his late twenties, dressed in attire nearly identical to Ming Niang's, marking his status.
"The dogs of the Sunrise Empire dare target our leader! Even if it costs your lives—do not let them take one step closer to him!"
"Yes, Elder!" the Wolfmen roared together.
With thunderous growls, the Wolfmen launched forward once more, their charge shaking the battlefield.
"KILL!"
Instantly the sounds of war returned—the clash of metal, agonized screams, the creaking of catapults releasing boulders into the sky. The battlefield erupted into pure chaos.
Ming Ling glanced at the four Wolfmen guarding Ming Niang and snarled,
"Don't let anyone near the leader!"
"Yes, sir!"
The four warriors sprinted forward,weapons drawn, hurling themselves into the path of the Sunrise soldiers—determined to protect their chieftain with their lives.while leaving ming nian and ming ling alone.
From the thick clouds of dust swirling over the battlefield, the four warriors sprinted toward General Qin Xiaotian, weapons raised—machetes, bone spears, and heavy hammers gleaming in the fading light.
A few other Wolfmen soon joined, circling Qin Xiaotian from every direction. They knew they were no match for him, yet their resolve burned fiercely despite the odds.
Qin Xiaotian remained calm, eyes closed in quiet confidence. His halberd's blade rested pointed downward, hands folded gently atop the shaft.
"Aren't you going to charge? I don't have all day," he said lazily.
The Wolfmen's fury only intensified at his taunt.
Suddenly, a Wolfman from behind the general let out a savage howl and surged forward, machete raised high, aiming to cut him down in one strike.
But Qin Xiaotian's foot flicked out with lightning speed, kicking against the blade of the halberd.
Boing!
The halberd spun in his right hand several times, slicing through the air with a sharp whoosh before he gripped it firmly.
Without hesitation, he swung the halberd in a deadly arc—
In the blink of an eye, countless slashes flashed across the battlefield. The movements were so fast that no one could track the general's halberd—not even the Wolfmen surrounding him.
Qin Xiaotian halted, gripping the halberd vertically in his right hand.
Thud…
The Wolf warrior who had charged him collapsed forward—impaled not by the blade, but hanging limply against the flat side of the halberd's shaft, his belly pressed against the gleaming metal.
Not a single wound marked his body.
Yet… he was already dead.
General Xiaotian held the halberd out horizontally, lifting the corpse like a waiter presenting a dish. The casual disdain in the gesture sent chills crawling across the spines of every Wolfman present.
Only then did the general open his eyes.
A violent burst of wind exploded from him, pushing the Wolfmen back several steps. His gaze gleamed like a divine blade—sharp enough to slice through the very heavens.
He tilted the halberd slightly.
The lifeless body slid off and was flung a few meters away, crashing onto the dirt and rolling before coming to rest on its back, staring blankly at the sky.
Though no wounds marred his flesh, a pool of blood quickly spread beneath him, soaking into the dust. His eyes remained open—frozen in a final expression that no one could decipher.
Awe?Fear?Confusion?
As if even he… had no idea how he died.
Even after witnessing their comrade's mysterious death, and despite the fear blooming in their hearts, the Wolfmen's determination to kill Qin Xiaotian only grew fiercer.
"If we go one by one, we'll never take him down!" a Wolfman shouted.
"We all charge together!"
"YES!"
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Qin Xiaotian's mouth.
"Good. This way, I can finish you all at once and get on with my day."
"EVERYONE—CHAAARGE!"
Dozens of Wolfmen sprinted forward in unison, unleashing a thunderous battle cry.
Qin Xiaotian didn't move.
Instead, he threw his halberd forward.
Swish—SHLNK!
The weapon tore through the chest of a Wolfman before the man could even react, the blade bursting out from his back and pinning him to the ground in a kneeling position. He died instantly, eyes wide with shock.
Qin Xiaotian rolled his shoulders lazily and cracked his knuckles, then his neck—crack, crack, crack—as if warming up before a casual spar.
He wasn't planning to use spiritual qi.
Only pure, overwhelming physical strength.
Qin Xiaotian stepped forward once—
and vanished.
To the Wolfmen, he simply disappeared from sight.
BOOM!
A shockwave erupted behind them. One warrior's head snapped backward as Qin Xiaotian's fist slammed into his chin, lifting him clean off the ground. His body twisted mid-air before crashing lifelessly into the dirt.
Before the others could react—
CRACK!
Qin Xiaotian's elbow shattered another Wolfman's ribs. The man's chest caved inward, blood spraying from his mouth as he dropped like a stone.
"WHERE IS HE—!?"
WHAM!
A third Wolfman was launched sideways, his spine bent unnaturally as Qin Xiaotian's kick folded him in half. He slammed into two others, sending all three tumbling.
The general didn't pause.
He spun, grabbing another Wolfman by the wrist—
SNAP!
The arm tore clean off. The warrior screamed once before Qin Xiaotian's knee smashed into his face, turning it into pulp.
Two more tried to flank him, swinging heavy bone hammers.
Qin Xiaotian ducked.
BANG!
His headbutt crushed the first attacker's skull.
BANG!
His palm strike burst the second attacker's heart from inside his chest.
Seven dead in seconds.
The remaining Wolfmen froze, fear finally breaking through their rage.
"Monster… he's a monster—!"
Qin Xiaotian blurred again.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Three Wolfmen dropped almost simultaneously—one with a twisted neck, another with a shattered throat, the last with his head slammed so hard into the ground that the earth cracked beneath it.
Now twelve corpses lay scattered around him.
Qin Xiaotian exhaled calmly, as if he had simply taken a short walk.
"Pathetic."
All Ming Niang could do was watch helplessly as his loyal warriors fell one by one, his anger deepening like a dark storm inside him.
Seeing his warriors fall because of his orders, Ming Ling's heart clenched—aching with sorrow but burning with even fiercer rage. His face darkened as he turned toward Ming Niang.
"Clan Chief… I hope our clan can survive this."
A few tears slipped down Ming Niang's dark-skinned cheek, mingling with blood and sweat—forming a streaked tapestry of pain and determination.
"Me too," Ming Niang replied, his voice low and heavy.
"Clan Chief… may I have your blessing?" Ming Ling asked, his tone heavy with unspoken resolve—readying himself to face the indomitable general now pulling his halberd free from a fallen Wolfman's corpse.
"You'll always have my blessing," Ming Niang said, managing a faint, almost painful smile. His hand gently ruffled Ming Ling's hair—an unspoken promise that he would stand by him in spirit.
"But you're not going to fight him alone."
Grunting, Ming Niang struggled to his feet with Ming Ling's help, nearly stumbling but regaining his balance.
"But—" Ming Ling began.
"No buts," Ming Niang cut him off firmly. "I'm coming with you."
He patted Ming Ling's head, their eyes locking in a silent exchange—a final, fierce vow.
Together, the two warriors sprinted forward, charging toward the general who stared at them with a hungry, merciless gaze.
Seeing the two warriors charging at him, a smirk curled on Qin Xiaotian's lips. Just like before, he had no intention of using spiritual qi—this fight would be raw power.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The earth trembled violently as the three titans clashed with fierce intensity.
Ming Ling swung his massive bone hammer high above his head, then slammed it down like the judgment of heaven itself. But Qin Xiaotian dodged with fluid grace, his feet sparking with crackling blue lightning as they struck the ground.
Before Ming Ling could recover, Qin Xiaotian's knee shot forward—KWAACK!—crashing into Ming Ling's stomach. Blood erupted from his mouth as he was hurled into the air.
Swoosh!
Ming Niang descended with lightning speed, his spear thrust aimed straight at Qin Xiaotian's back.
In an instant, Qin Xiaotian twisted sideways—the spear passed just behind him as Ming Niang clung desperately to it.
With brutal strength, Qin Xiaotian grabbed Ming Niang's face, forcing the spear from his grip. The bone weapon slammed into the ground, sticking out at a sharp angle.
Ming Niang struggled to break free, but—
BOOM!
Qin Xiaotian raised his foot and slammed it down with crushing force, pinning Ming Niang to the ground. Cracks spiderwebbed across the earth beneath them.
Cough… cough…
Blood sprayed from Ming Niang's mouth as Qin Xiaotian's overwhelming foot crushed him into the ground.
Seeing his chief pinned down, Ming Ling roared with fury.
He sprinted toward the general, leaping high into the air. His fist clenched—blue lightning coiling violently around his arm, crackling up to his shoulder. His entire body glowed a fierce electric blue.
"LET HIM GOOOO—!"
Ming Ling's descending fist pulsed with such power it seemed capable of bending reality itself.
But just as it neared Qin Xiaotian's face, the general tilted his head slightly—effortless, calm—dodging the blow by a hair.
Before Ming Ling could retract—
BOOOOM!
Countless bolts of blue lightning erupted from his fist, stabbing down like heavenly punishment. The ground below exploded open, and several Sunrise soldiers caught in the storm were electrocuted instantly, bodies convulsing before collapsing.
But Ming Ling didn't even get the chance to celebrate his strike.
Qin Xiaotian's hand shot upward like a steel vice.
He caught Ming Ling by the throat.
In mid-air.
Without effort.
His grip tightened with every passing second, veins bulging in Ming Ling's neck as the lightning around his body flickered violently.
Ming Ling thrashed desperately, slamming his fists into Qin Xiaotian's face with savage grunts—strikes carrying every ounce of strength he had left.
But to Qin Xiaotian, they felt no different than insect bites.
"If you surrender," Qin Xiaotian said coldly, tightening his grip around Ming Ling's throat, "I might let your clan survive."
THOO!
Ming Ling spat directly into the general's face.
The saliva struck dead center—splattering across Qin Xiaotian's eyes, dripping toward his left. Instinctively, the general narrowed his eyes and wiped his face with his sleeve.
When his gaze returned, it was far colder… and infinitely more dangerous.
His eyes sharpened to slits, fury erupting like a volcano—
But then—
"Hahaha…"
A mocking laugh rumbled from his chest.
"Even with death staring you in the face… you still fight back."
A twisted grin stretched across his face. "I like it."
"Hahahahaha… HAHAHAHAHA…"
His laugh spiraled into a maniac's cackle, echoing across the battlefield, freezing even hardened soldiers in place.
But abruptly—
his laughter died.
His expression turned to stone.
"But," he said, voice dropping to a chilling calm, "I also hate people… who disobey."
Qin Xiaotian's grip tightened around Ming Ling's throat—slowly, deliberately.
Ming Ling's arms flailed, fists pounding weakly against the general's arm as his body struggled on instinct alone. But everyone watching knew…
It was nothing more than a dying man's last, helpless struggle.
Qin Xiaotian's expression warped into something twisted—cold, cruel, and stained with a sly grin.
He was enjoying this.
Behind him, Ming Niang—still pinned to the shattered ground—stretched out a trembling hand toward Ming Ling.
"No… no, no, no…" Ming Niang's voice cracked, breaking into a sob.
"Let him go… please, let him go…"
His desperate plea was soaked with grief.
Even within the pain Ming Ling spoke out with a painfull smile toward Ming Niang. "Brothers... forever"
Then—
CRACK!!!!
Ming Ling's body jerked once.
Then his limbs fell limp, hanging lifelessly in Qin Xiaotian's grip.
The sound was unmistakable.
His neck had broken.
Qin Xiaotian opened his hand, releasing the corpse.
Thud!
Ming Ling's body hit the ground face-up, eyes frozen wide, his face pale with a faint line of blood trailing from the corner of his eye.
At the same moment, as if dismissing a broken toy, Qin Xiaotian lifted his foot and stepped away—finally releasing the crushed, trembling Ming Niang.
The moment the crushing, mountain-like pressure lifted from his chest, Ming Niang forced himself up.
He staggered immediately, nearly collapsing again as loud, guttural grunts tore from his throat. His breaths came in ragged bursts, each one stabbing his insides like knives.
But the moment he managed to steady himself—
CRACK!!!
A violent jolt shot through his body.
Blood erupted from his mouth in a thick spray as his knees buckled beneath him.
His ribs had broken—shattered under Qin Xiaotian's earlier stomp.
But even through blinding pain, Ming Niang did not stop.
He planted his hands on the dirt and dragged himself forward, inch by inch, his muscles trembling, his vision swimming.
Tears streamed down his dust-stained cheeks as he crawled toward the fallen vice chief.
The closer he got, the more violently his heart tore inside him.
When he finally reached Ming Ling's corpse, the dam in his chest broke completely.
"Wake up… please… please wake up…" Ming Niang choked out, voice crushed beneath sobs.
He shook Ming Ling gently—carefully—as if afraid the slightest force might break what little remained.
But deep in his heart… he knew.
Ming Ling was gone.
Yet denial clung to him like chains.
Ming Niang pulled his brother-in-arms into his embrace, holding the lifeless body against his chest, crying with everything he had left.
Tears dripped down Ming Niang's jaw… falling onto Ming Ling's pale cheek, where they mixed with sweat, dust, and the dried blood at the corner of his eye.
And as he wept, memories crashed through his mind—
Years of battles fought together.
Years of laughter, of hunts, of brotherhood.
Years of trust.
All flooding back at once…
All slipping away forever.
Ming Nian's vision blurred as memories of laughter, hunting trips, late-night training, and shared meals twisted into a storm of pain.
He saw Ming Ling smiling.
He saw Ming Ling bleeding.
And finally,He saw Ming Ling dead.
A shudder ran through his entire body.
His eyes snapped open.
A raw, animal roar tore from his throat.
"QIN XIAOTIAN!!!"
The entire battlefield trembled as Ming Nian surged to his feet—broken ribs grinding, lungs burning, blood spilling from his lips. He didn't care. He couldn't care.
He charged.
"Useless," Qin Xiaotian muttered, flicking his wrist.
A crushing force slammed into Ming Nian's chest, hurling him back into a shattered tree. Bark exploded. Blood sprayed. But Ming Nian crawled up again, gripping the ground with trembling fingers.
"I'll kill you…" Ming Nian spat blood, eyes red. "I'll tear you apart!"
He rushed again.
Qin Xiaotian stepped forward lazily and drove a knee into Ming Nian's stomach.
CRACK!
Another rib broke. Ming Nian flew like a broken spear, skidding across the dirt. He coughed violently, but his legs pushed him up once more.
"You still stand?" Qin Xiaotian's lips curled into an amused smile. "You tribesmen really don't know when to die."
Ming Nian staggered, swaying like a candle in a storm.
"I… won't stop," he growled. "Not until your blood… pays for his."
Qin Xiaotian blurred, appearing in front of him. His palm whipped across Ming Nian's face—
PAK!
Teeth flew. Blood splattered.
Then the kicks came.
A heel to the chin—
A stomp to the spine—
A fist to the ribs—
A savage throw into the ground—
Dust erupted with each impact, the earth trembling as if rejecting the brutality happening atop it.
Finally, Ming Nian collapsed onto both knees, head lowered, arms barely able to hold him up. His body was a canvas of bleeding cuts, swelling bruises, and broken bones.
Qin Xiaotian stood over him, looking down like a judge over a condemned soul.
"Crawl," Qin Xiaotian said coldly. "That's all someone like you is worth."
Ming Nian spat blood onto the ground, his breathing ragged but unbroken.
His body bowed…
…but his spirit didn't.
His fingers dug into the dirt.
His voice trembled, but it carried a power no cultivation realm could measure.
"I will never… kneel to you."
His eyes lifted—burning with grief, rage, and an unyielding will that refused to die.
A sly grin crept across Qin Xiaotian's face as he watched the tribesman struggle. Ming Nian's legs trembled, his fingers clawed at the dirt, but every attempt to stand ended with him collapsing again.
To Qin Xiaotian, the sight was pure entertainment.
"The once-profound Blue Lightning sky wolf Clan…" Qin Xiaotian drawled, his voice laced with venomous amusement. "From what I know, millions of years ago, you were one of the Seven Great Clans of the Great Thousand Empires."
His smirk deepened.
"But now? Just a fallen tribe… desperately clinging to life."
He chuckled.
Then he laughed.
"Hahahahaha—what a pity."
Each word stabbed deeper into Ming Nian's chest than any blade could.
Because Qin Xiaotian wasn't lying.
Hundreds of millions of years ago, the Blue Lightning sky wolf Clan truly stood among the Top seven Clans, their glory radiating across the universe. Their lightning once split stars, their warriors walked fearlessly among the heavens.
But time was cruel.
Calamities, betrayals, and endless wars chipped away at their might. From a clan that ruled galaxies… they crumbled, fell, and continued falling—
Until now.
Reduced to a small tribe occupying a sliver of land in the Sunrise Empire. Barely surviving. Barely remembered.
And now mocked by the descendant of a once-rival clan.
Ming Nian's fists tightened, his nails piercing his own skin as his heart burned with agony and humiliation.
Cough… cough…
A thick stream of blood spilled from Ming Nian's mouth, splattering across the ash-covered ground. His body swayed like a dying flame, yet his voice—broken, trembling, but unyielding—rose again.
"One day…" he rasped, staring up at Qin Xiaotian with eyes full of hatred and sorrow.
"One day you will feel the same pain you forced onto me… onto my clan."
Qin Xiaotian raised a brow, unimpressed.
Ming Nian pressed on, his voice cracking with each word.
"One day… the most precious person in your life will be taken from you. And then—"
He coughed violently, blood dripping down his lips.
"—your legs will go limp. You'll stumble across the ground… just like I did, crawling toward the corpse of someone you love."
His breathing became ragged, but his glare sharpened.
"When that pain pierces your heart… your feet will sweat, staining the earth… your chest will burn like wildfire… and for the first time in your life, you'll understand what despair feels like."
He raised a trembling, blood-covered finger.
"And finally… you will feel the urge to kill yourself."
The battlefield went silent for a heartbeat.
Qin Xiaotian blinked slowly.
"Huh… anything else?"
Ming Nian chuckled weakly—a hollow, heartbreaking sound.
"Yes… there is."
He lifted his head, lightning flickering faintly behind his pupils.
"Remember this—no matter what happens… no matter what you do… our clan will rise again."
His voice boomed like thunder.
"And when that day comes… all the Great Clans will stand before your eyes—while you lie on the ground, waiting for your death."
His eyes blazed—not with strength, but with a fire that refused to die.
Qin Xiaotian burst out laughing.
"Hahahaha! Rise again? Look around you, fool. Do you see any chance of revival?"
For a moment, Ming Nian's ears went silent.
The world muted.
The screams and steel faded into a distant hum.
Slowly, weakly, he turned his head.
To the left—
He saw one of his warriors, a man he had trained since childhood, his bare chest pierced by a rain of arrows… collapsing with empty eyes.
To the right—
Another warrior, engulfed by a blazing sphere of fire, screaming as his flesh charred.
Ahead—
Two more tribesmen were being hacked apart, limbs separating, blood splattering across the trampled grass as soldiers of the Sunrise Empire cut them down mercilessly.
Every direction held death.
Every memory stabbed at his heart.
His lips trembled.
Is this… the end?
But then—
From the corner of his eye… like a sliver of silver hope cutting through a black storm—
He saw a young wolf-tribe warrior, barely a teenager, his body covered in cuts, his face smeared with soot and tears.
Yet the boy roared with everything he had and drove his bone spear straight through the chest of a Sunrise Empire soldier, his arms shaking but refusing to let go.
The boy grunted, eyes wild with fear and determination—yet still fighting.
Still standing.
Still believing.
Ming Nian's heart throbbed painfully.
His fingers curled into fists.
Ming Nian slowly turned his head back toward Qin Xiaotian.
His vision was blurry,His ribs stabbed with every breath,His entire body screamed in agony.
Yet…
A smile—broken, bloody, but genuine—curved across his face.
"YES!!!"
It was like whisper of victory.yet thundered across the whole battlefield.
Qin Xiaotian's grip on his halberd tightened.
For the first time since this battle began… a strange uneasiness slithered through his chest.
But he shook off the feeling.
A mocking sneer replaced his momentary doubt.
Without another word—
S H N L N G !!!
The halberd sliced downward like a falling star, tearing the air apart with its murderous whistle.
The blade reflected the crimson battlefield as it descended toward the kneeling Blue Lightning Sky Wolf clan's chief.