Before Kyrian could take advantage of the opening...

He knew.

This was the moment.

The others would attack now that he was focused on the first two.

Kyrian turned immediately, not with hesitation, but with calculated precision.

At the same time.

The other two leaders finally moved.

A saber and a sword.

Coming from different directions, not opposite but angled, creating a web of attacks that was difficult to evade completely.

Both aimed at vital points.

Back. Neck. Spine. Heart.

Kyrian felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He had just used the Aura of Fire. His body was still protesting, not like before, when he had nearly died using the Aura of Ice, but still. His new meridians ached. His bones burned.

His new physique could withstand far more than the old one. The newly formed meridians were wide, more resilient. The bones reinforced by the Bone of Heaven had not cracked.

But it was not limitless.

He would not be able to repeat that immediately.

So he relied only on his eyes.

The world slowed down.

The attacks became clear. Visible. Readable.

The saber, a curved blade glowing with compressed Fire Qi, came down in a descending arc, targeting the junction between his neck and right shoulder.

The sword, straight and longer, pulsing with vibrant energy, thrust directly toward his heart.

Kyrian spun.

It was not a full spin, only a half-body movement, saving fractions of a second.

The saber grazed his shoulder. Kyrian felt the fabric of his robe tear, but the skin beneath remained intact.

The sword sliced through the empty space where his head had been an instant before. So close that Kyrian felt the wind of the strike brush against his ear.

Then he jumped.

’BOOOOOM!’

Both attacks struck the ground simultaneously.

The entire mountain trembled, a violent quake spreading across the slope, sending rocks rolling in every direction.

A massive crater appeared where the strikes had landed, so deep that the stone beneath was exposed.

Fragments of rock were launched into the sky, some the size of fists, others the size of carts.

Kyrian landed several meters away, his knees bending to absorb the impact.

Breathing deeply.

And finally...

He became irritated.

Until now, he had tried to avoid the confrontation. Not out of fear, but because he still did not fully understand his new strength. The transformed body, the new eyes, the connection to fire... everything was too recent. He needed time to understand his limits.

He had tried talking. He had tried giving them chances.

But enough was enough.

Those four would not stop. Not while they saw him as a means to obtain Ming Hai’s inheritance. Not while greed burned in their eyes.

Then they would die.

His eyes flashed.

A single blink.

And fire appeared.

Not the Aura, only the flames from his eyes, the same flames that had burned away the old man’s sleeve.

Two leaders immediately sensed danger.

Their spiritual senses, sharpened by decades of combat, screamed a warning.

Both vanished from their positions, not through teleportation, but through pure speed, their bodies moving before their brains could even process the command.

Even so...

They did not escape unharmed.

The flames touched their bodies.

Burns appeared on one man’s arms, red, superficial, but painful.

The other felt the fire on his leg, scorching both his robe and the skin beneath.

Superficial injuries.

But enough to frighten them.

Meanwhile...

The two previously struck by the Aura of Fire returned.

The old man, his black spear shining with recompressed Qi.

The axe wielder, his twin blades spinning in an offensive pattern.

Attacking from opposite sides.

Left and right.

The battle exploded.

All four advanced in a coordinated sequence.

The old man came first, a straight thrust without any flourish, the spear cutting through the air like a black bolt. Kyrian dodged with a sidestep, but before he could counterattack, the axe wielder was already there, his twin blades sweeping low toward Kyrian’s legs.

Kyrian jumped over the strike.

In midair, the third leader, the swordsman, was already waiting.

An upward thrust aimed at his chest.

Kyrian crossed his arms.

Clang!

The metallic sound echoed across the mountain, not because Kyrian held a weapon, but because his forearms, reinforced by transformed bones, had blocked the blade.

The sword leader’s eyes widened.

"Impossible. My strike was blocked by... flesh?" the leader exclaimed.

Kyrian used the momentum to launch himself backward, gaining distance.

He landed in a defensive stance.

He looked at his arms.

The sword strike had torn through the flesh and only stopped when it reached bone. Kyrian was fortunate that his bones were now extraordinarily resilient, otherwise, he would have lost both arms.

The pain did not affect him.

The agony of implanting the Bone of Heaven had been thousands of times worse.

Kyrian did not even have time to think.

The four did not hesitate.

The saber wielder came from the right, three rapid strikes: one horizontal, one diagonal, and one descending.

Kyrian dodged the first by leaning his torso backward. The blade passed mere centimeters from his nose.

He blocked the second with his left forearm again, the saber biting into his arm until it struck bone. The bone vibrated from the impact but did not break.

He avoided the third with a full spin, the saber slicing through the air where his neck had been.

Before he could counterattack...

The old man was already there.

The black spear pierced through the space Kyrian had occupied, but Kyrian had already moved, his eyes following the trajectory before the attack was even launched.

The spear tip tore through his robe at shoulder height, but never touched his skin.

Centimeters.

Always centimeters.

The four leaders had understood something important during the past minutes of battle.

The fire appeared wherever Kyrian looked.

So they began attacking his blind spots.

Alternating constantly.

Always changing positions.

Always trying to surround him.

Always forcing his attention to one side while another attack came from the opposite direction.

Kyrian felt the pressure.

His eyes could follow the movements of two opponents. The directions, angles, and speeds.

But there were four.

When he focused on the old man, the axe wielder attacked.

When he focused on the axe, the sword came.

When he focused on the sword, the saber appeared.

And they were coordinating.

Not perfectly. There were still hesitations, overlaps, moments when two attacked the same point and interfered with each other.

But with every exchange, they improved.

Kyrian quickly understood the strategy.

They were trying to overload his perception.

Force him to divide his attention among too many stimuli until something slipped through.

It would not work.

Not completely.

His eyes were simply too fast.

But it was becoming exhausting.

Controlling the flames in his eyes.

Processing four streams of attacks from Spiritual Awakening cultivators simultaneously.

Dodging, blocking, retreating.

All at once.

Then he responded.

Fire.

A circle of orange flames rose from the ground around him, not a complete ring, but a semicircle behind his back.

Protecting his blind spot.

Anyone who wished to attack him from behind would first have to pass through those flames.

And even the leaders hesitated.

Because they knew what would happen.

The first time they touched that fire, their barriers melted.

The second time, burns appeared.

The third time...

No one wanted to find out.