The old man remained motionless for several seconds.

His breathing was heavy, not from physical exertion, but from humiliation. Part of his sleeve had vanished, reduced to ashes that still drifted through the hot air.

His arm still burned, a superficial burn throbbing with every beat of his heart.

But what truly burned was not his skin.

It was his pride.

For decades, he had cultivated. For decades, he had faced beasts, killed enemies, accumulated resources, and survived in a world where only the strong remained alive.

His reputation in Red Smoke City was feared. His name was whispered with respect.

And now...

A young man in the Core Formation Realm was forcing him to retreat.

Not merely retreat.

He was damaging his confidence.

The old man’s eyes narrowed as he observed Kyrian.

The boy remained completely unharmed.

Not even his breathing seemed altered. His chest rose and fell with the same calm rhythm as before. His clothes were torn in several places, the fabric having failed to withstand the impacts, but the skin beneath remained intact.

It was absurd.

’That fire is definitely not normal.’ The old man thought, his mind analyzing frantically.

He knew it. Fire attacks would not work against Kyrian. Every technique he used, every flame, every explosion, and every stream of fire Qi would simply disappear upon approaching Kyrian.

He was certain of that now.

Perhaps that fire was not infinite. Perhaps it had limits, some restriction, some exhaustion, something that prevented Kyrian from using it forever.

But until he discovered those limits...

Being hit directly meant death.

Even his Qi barrier, forged through decades of cultivation, had begun melting like wax beneath a flame.

It was simply ridiculous.

Then his thoughts shifted.

’If fire doesn’t work...’

’Then only physical force remains.’

His hand tightened around the black spear. The shaft creaked beneath his fingers.

A direct thrust. A clean strike. A single well-placed physical attack, nothing but steel and brute force.

That was all he needed to kill Kyrian.

The spear was a high-quality spiritual weapon. Forged from rare metals. A direct thrust could pierce even the defenses of a cultivator at the same level.

Against Kyrian... it should be more than enough.

But there was a problem.

Getting close.

That cursed flame could appear practically anywhere. Worse, it seemed to respond to Kyrian’s eyes. As if his very sight were a weapon, as if fire was born wherever he looked.

The old man felt a headache forming at his temples.

If he used all his strength, if he spent all his Qi on a single attack, perhaps he could kill the boy.

Perhaps.

But then what?

He would still have to face the other three leaders over the inheritance.

And none of them were trustworthy.

The slightest display of weakness, a heavier breath, a weaker barrier, or a more serious wound, and the vultures would strike. They were not allies. They were temporary competitors, united by convenience rather than loyalty.

His gaze quickly swept over the three companions.

Greed.

He saw the same thing in all of their eyes.

All of them wanted the inheritance.

All of them planned to kill the others when the opportunity arose.

Then he made a decision.

His spiritual sense expanded silently toward the three leaders.

A message was sent.

’You’ve all realized it.’

The three immediately received the transmission. None reacted outwardly. Their faces remained expressionless, their eyes fixed on Kyrian.

’This boy is not normal.’

’If we continue acting separately, none of us may obtain the inheritance.’

Silence. The wind blew between them. Ashes danced through the air.

Then another message.

’First, we kill him.’

’Afterward, we settle our differences.’

The others remained quiet for several seconds, pretending to think, pretending to evaluate.

But they were not fools.

All of them had seen what happened. All of them had watched the old man’s sleeve turn to ashes. All of them had felt that fire, that heat that was not merely heat but something deeper.

One against one...

None of them were certain they could win.

The responses came.

’I agree.’

’The boy first.’

’Then we’ll see who deserves the inheritance.’

The agreement was sealed. Temporary. But sufficient.

The next instant...

The old man vanished.

’BOOM!’

A movement technique exploded beneath his feet. It was a mobility art he had perfected over decades, releasing fire Qi in a controlled explosion beneath his soles.

The ground cracked where his feet touched.

Qi concentrated into his legs, causing the muscles beneath his robe to visibly swell.

His speed nearly doubled.

There were no more flaming serpents. No more grand explosions. No more flashy techniques that announced their attacks in advance.

Only speed. Only a spear. Only killing intent.

The ground exploded behind him.

Kyrian saw everything.

His orange eyes followed every detail of the old man’s charge. The contraction of the muscles in his right leg revealed the point of propulsion.

The spear’s trajectory was not straight but slightly curved, adjusted within fractions of a second to compensate for any evasive movement.

He was already preparing fire to intercept the attack when something changed.

His peripheral vision caught something.

A shadow. Coming from the right. Faster than the old man. Much faster.

Another leader. An ambush.

Kyrian immediately understood the strategy. They had joined forces, at least temporarily.

The second leader entered his field of vision carrying the enormous double-bladed axe. The blade glowed with Qi, a sharp and cutting energy that distorted the air around it.

Descending directly toward his neck.

The old man with the spear from the front. The axe wielder from the side.

Perfectly synchronized.

Kyrian did not think.

He simply acted.

His eyes lit up, not gradually, but instantly, as though a flame had been ignited within them. His orange pupils shone like living magma, radiating an intensity that eclipsed the sun itself.

Then...

A translucent orange explosion erupted from his eyes and spread outward from his body.

The Aura of Fire.

’FOOOOOOM!’

The wave was not directional. It was an explosion, an expansion of energy spreading simultaneously in all directions.

The old man’s eyes widened.

The axe wielders did as well.

Their pupils dilated in shock.

Both activated defensive treasures almost instantly, not out of strategy, but instinct. Their hands flew toward their necks and spatial rings.

Spiritual barriers emerged around their bodies. Translucent Qi shields formed before them. Amulets hanging from their necks shone brightly, activating pre-prepared protections.

Even so...

They were hurled backward.

Like leaves struck by a storm.

Both flew dozens of meters away, the old man ten and the axe wielder fifteen, their boots carving deep trenches through the volcanic ground.

Their protections cracked beneath the pressure of the Aura. Fine lines of light appeared across the barriers, spreading like spiderwebs.