As Yun pulled the talisman free from her pouch, a surge of energy flooded her body. The talisman activated with a pulse, and in an instant, her strength surged. She could feel her aura expand, her abilities heightened—she had ascended to Rank 2. But Yanwei wasn’t caught off guard. His sharp eyes tracked her every movement, and the moment the talisman glowed with power, he reacted.

His expression remained cool, though a hint of knowing flickered in his eyes. She’s using it now… I’ve been waiting for this. With a smooth motion, he ordered his corpse puppets to form a protective barrier between them, blocking her path as he distanced himself slightly.

Yun's newly enhanced strength surged with each heartbeat, but she didn’t let herself be distracted by the sudden rush of power. Now's the time. Fueled by a mix of desperation and rage, she charged forward, her fist crashing into the nearest corpse puppet. The puppet shattered on impact, splintering into pieces, but she didn’t slow. Her body was alight with newfound strength—she was unstoppable.

“I won’t let you control this fight!” she snarled, her eyes burning with resolve. The talisman had unlocked her full potential, and she was no longer just a survivor—she was a force to be reckoned with.

Yanwei’s calm demeanor didn’t falter as he watched her reckless advance. She’s desperate. That talisman is a dangerous weapon, but it’s not invincible. He knew he had time—enough time to let the talisman’s power grow weaker, to keep Yun on edge. His corpse puppets formed an unyielding wall between them, each one standing firm, blocking her path as she tried to break through.

Yun’s fury was palpable. She smashed another puppet aside with a punch that would have shattered stone, but still, the defense held firm. Damn it, she thought. This isn't enough. I can't let him keep stalling. If I don’t break through, I’ll lose the advantage.

Her heart raced as she launched herself at another puppet, tearing it apart with her bare hands, each punch fueled by a surge of adrenaline. I’m not finished yet, she thought, her voice ringing in her mind like a battle cry. I won’t let him stop me. This is my only chance.

Yanwei, standing at a distance, remained calm and collected, analyzing the flow of the battle. She’s giving everything she has now, but that talisman won’t last forever. I just need to wait… His eyes flicked briefly to the talisman’s diminishing glow. It’s a fleeting power. I’ll outlast it.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

As Yun pushed forward, her movements faster and stronger than before, Yanwei continued to manipulate the corpse puppets, using them as a shield while keeping a close watch on her. I’ll just have to wait until the talisman’s power fades. She can’t maintain this for long.

The tension in the air thickened as both fighters were locked in a silent battle of wills. Yun, now empowered by the talisman, had the raw strength to tear through his defenses, but Yanwei’s patience and strategy were a formidable force. It’s now or never, Yun thought, her chest heaving as she prepared for her final assault.

As she dashed forward, she didn’t expect what happened next.

From out of nowhere, ten corpse puppets appeared—and before she could react, they blew themselves up.

The explosions ripped through the air, shockwaves slamming into her body. Alone, they weren’t enough to kill a true Rank 2 cultivator. But she wasn’t at full strength—she was injured, and worse, her Rank 2 was fake. Even at its peak, it was nothing but an illusion of power.

Pain surged through her body. Blood dripped from her lips.

She reached for something—anything—but there was nothing left.

Her talisman was gone, shattered in the blast.

Her subordinates were dead, bodies reduced to lifeless husks.

Her trump cards were all spent.

There was nothing.

And for the first time, true despair sank in.

Her breathing was ragged. Her vision blurred. She wasn’t just losing. She had already lost.

A voice broke through the suffocating silence—mocking, taunting.

“No, no, no—you can’t die yet.”

Yanwei’s tone was drenched in ridicule, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He stared down at her like a predator watching wounded prey.

“Didn’t I tell you?” His lips curled into a smirk. “I am your master.”

She wanted to laugh—if only she had the strength. Instead, she spat blood and lifted her gaze, her hatred burning even as her body crumbled.

“You?” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “You think you deserve my pledge?”

Her lips twisted into a weak, bitter smile.

“Who do you think you are?”

Yanwei burst into laughter—a deep, unrestrained laugh that echoed through the blood-soaked battlefield. His shoulders shook, his amusement raw and untamed, as if he had just heard the greatest joke in the world.

Then, as the last chuckle left his lips, his form shifted.

The disguise melted away like mist under the morning sun, revealing his true appearance—ethereal, otherworldly, like a banished immortal who had long severed his ties with heaven. His long, jet-black hair cascaded down his back, untouched by the filth of the mortal world. His robes, dark as the abyss, fluttered slightly despite the absence of wind, as if the world itself dared not touch him.

His face, flawless and sculpted like a deity abandoned by the heavens, held no warmth—only an unfathomable coldness. His eyes, deep and merciless, seemed to reflect a thousand lifetimes of cruelty, as if he had long since transcended the need for empathy.

He stood there, no longer just a man, but an existence that should have never been—a demon wrapped in the guise of a fallen god.