A cold smile played on Fang Zhou’s lips as the ghostly blue ripples of his Soul Eagle Eye locked onto the Snake Demon’s back armor.

"Skeleton Armory: Strangle Mode."

Fang Zhou clenched his left hand. The shattered bone fragments reassembled in mid-air into three hundred and sixty barbed chains. The eerie light of the Iron Wall Aura flowed over them as they wound toward Azklos like venomous serpents.

Another of Azklos’s arms suddenly jabbed out from a strange angle. The Armor-Piercing Demon Blade sliced through the Poison Cloud Skill’s barrier, only to be forced back by Tiamat’s Deadly Dragon Breath before it could reach Fang Zhou’s throat.

The Dragon Breath from the Black Gem Dragon carried the terrifying power of instant death, forcing Azklos to retreat.

"Is this the Dragon Race? Just a lowly reptile!"

Azklos’s vertical pupils contracted into blood-red slits as his six arms simultaneously thrust their weapons into the ground.

The mountain trembled violently as twenty-meter-high rock spikes burst from the earth, impaling five Corrupt Hatreds in mid-air. Their rotting innards fell like rain.

Azklos seized the moment to leap up, weaving his Demon Blades into a web of death—the Thousand Blades Prison, a fatal technique of the Six-armed Snake Demon. Six Demon Blades carved countless crimson trails through the air, descending upon Fang Zhou like a net of death.

Yet, from within this blood-stained curtain, Fang Zhou revealed a cold smile. "Corpse Explosion Skill: Chain Reaction."

The impaled remnants of the Corrupt Hatreds erupted in succession, forming a composite storm of dark-green toxic mist and bone fragments that swept toward Azklos.

Azklos was forced to use Snake Demon’s Shedding. The discarded skin instantly carbonized in the toxic fog, turning to ash.

His true form had not yet fully reformed when twelve Poisoned Bone Arrows, empowered by Soul Link, pierced his newly regenerated joints. The neurotoxin on the arrows spread rapidly, noticeably slowing Azklos’s movements.

Subsequently, Fang Zhou activated the Berserker Heroic Spirit Mark, enhancing the Corpse Warrior nearest to Azklos into the Berserker Heroic Spirit, Olaf.

Moonlight coated Olaf’s decayed breastplate with a layer of silver frost. The moment Fang Zhou crushed the mark, the very air in the valley trembled.

The Corpse Warrior’s skeleton emitted a nerve-jarring creak as crimson energy erupted from its spinal joints, dyeing the gray-white Bone Armor into Blood Armor. Its once-empty eye sockets blazed with two orbs of boiling bloodfire, and each breath expelled sparks with a sulfurous scent.

"ROAR!"

Olaf’s roar sent out visible soundwaves, blasting the toxic mist of the Rotting Aura apart into concentric ripples.

When Azklos’s Demon Blade, the Bone-Eroding Hook and Scythe, slashed forth, the Berserker did not dodge. Instead, he allowed the blade’s edge to embed itself in his shoulder armor.

The Blood Fury Pattern spread crazily from the wound as Olaf swung the Soul Splitter War Axe backhanded, its ancient runes lighting up with a blinding blood-red light.

CLANG!

The sparks from the collision of metal illuminated Azklos’s astonished vertical pupils.

The War Axe struck the Abyssal Demon Pattern on Azklos’s left shoulder, and spiderweb-like cracks instantly crawled over half his body. Corrupt black blood sprayed out but evaporated into a stinking mist when it touched Olaf’s Blood Armor—a purification effect from the Golden Body Skill.

Olaf planted his feet, cracking the ground into a three-meter-radius depression. The Blood Fury Pattern wove into ancient battle tattoos across his body, each step leaving scorched, lava-like traces on the rock.

Azklos’s six arms whirled wildly, weaving a web of death in the air with his Demon Blades. His left forearm’s Armor-Piercing Demon Blade shredded three Corpse Warriors that attempted a sneak attack. His right forearm’s Soul-Eroding Short Sword stabbed at Olaf’s throat; when the War Axe blocked it, the splashing green poison corroded the surface of the Blood Armor. His middle pair of arms brought the Frost Heavy Hammer and Flame Saber crashing down simultaneously, causing an explosion of ice and fire against the Berserker’s chest. His rear pair of arms used the Corrosive Poison Chain Hammer and Thunder Battle Halberd to seal off any retreat, the spikes on the chain hammer gleaming with the eerie light of spatial fissures.

"Battle Cry: Break the Gall!"

Olaf suddenly abandoned his axe and charged forward, his barbed shoulder armor crashing heavily into the Snake Demon’s chest.

A blood-red soundwave spread out in a cone, causing ancient trees within fifty meters to explode and hurling the remnants of the Corrupt Hatreds into the air.

Azklos’s Demon Blade array was momentarily disrupted. Olaf seized the opportunity to grab the chains of the Frost Heavy Hammer, the Blood Fury Pattern spreading from his arm to the weapon itself.

CRACK!

The Abyssal Runes on the heavy hammer’s surface detonated one after another as Olaf crushed the demonic weapon with sheer force. The flying ice crystals vaporized in the bloodfire, forming an eerie blue-red mist.

For the first time, shock appeared in Azklos’s vertical pupils; he realized this undead creature’s combat instincts far exceeded his expectations. Olaf was only a Lower-Rank Bronze, but he was equipped with the Blood Fury, Golden Body, and Battle Cry skill trees. Moreover, his major skills had all reached Instinct-level proficiency.

Even Demon Lord Azklos could not ignore such formidable combat power.

"The game should end now."

The Berserker Heroic Spirit before him was too troublesome. With his attacks continuously thwarted, Azklos grew restless. Delaying too long would allow his opponent’s reinforcements to return at any moment. Though they had only fought for a little over ten minutes, he already understood that this young human Undead Mage was no weakling.

Azklos gritted his teeth and tore open the seal on his chest, temporarily breaking free of the World Barrier’s suppression. His Middle-Rank Bronze presence surged to the Upper Rank.

Simultaneously, he slowly drew another blade that had never been unsheathed before: the Spirit Slayer Blade.

It was a forbidden weapon forged from an ancestral spine. Its blade shimmered with the light of shattered stars, as if it could tear through space itself.

"Still not enough!"

Madness flickered in Azklos’s vertical pupils. The Demon Blood in his veins boiled as his power rose continuously, heedless of the great cost to his essence, until it reached the Breaking Limit state between Bronze and Silver.