It all happened in merely half a second. But a cloudy armor appeared and covered Laluri even before he reached her.

The lightning met with her body and exploded, shaking the whole castle. Flames churned and shot upwards. The remains of which could be seen from a distance of an hour away.

The flames gradually died down, revealing the five-hundred-meter training house which had now turned to cinders. Around it was a deep crater, as wide as a hundred feet. Within it were Abdin and Laluri, both on their knees.

Laluri's armor had long since melted, gumming her body, as blood trickled from her nose and the sides of her mouth.

Abdin was on his knees, panting but uninjured. He had an almost imperceptible smile on his lips.

[You have used an S-rank lightning transformation beyond your current cultivation level. You have lost 38 years of pol. Your cultivation base has fallen to 115 years and 9 months. You have 28 years left to live.]

The skill he used just now had once killed a cultivator at the zenith of the core formation stage. But here was Laluri still breathing. He was sure now that Laluri was at the zenith as well, and not just an ordinary zenith, but as yet not a pseudo-Deva. So he believed he could kill her. He would lose a great deal of lifespan as a result, something he had been trying to avoid, but he would still do it.

He raised his hands upwards. His fingers gave off green lightning sparks and create a lightning ball atop his hand.

"You dare raised your hand on me?" The panting woman said. "You want to offend the Nánata?" She gritted her teeth, as though telling him to kill her if he dared. But there was something that resembled fear in her eyes. Abdin's lightning didn't just hurt her body, the pol within her core was also shaking. She had no way of wielding any skill or healing herself at the moment. Her core could, in such a case explode, killing her as a result, if she tried to force her cultivation base.

The woman had to wait to regain control of pol before she could do anything. So she decided to wield the name of her tribe to scare Abdin off.

Abdin only chuckled without speaking. He knew quite well she couldn't use any skill at that moment.

Whenever he burned off his cultivation to create a skill, the pol he burned off would meld with the attack, and the skill used would be a hybrid attack - the lightning would hurt the body while the pol would hurt the cultivation base of the victim.

The thirty-eight years he lost were the ones that hit Laluri's core, almost destroying her cultivation base.

Abdin wasn't about to let this chance go, so he unleashed almost twenty lightning bolts at her.

The young woman tried to dodge but couldn't move. "You mean to kill me, a Nánata? This will be the greatest mistake you can make in your life. My name will be a curse so intense, you can never wade through. And you don't even know Juwaira..."

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Despite the haste in which she talked, the attack seemed faster. About five lightning bolts hit her on the chest almost at once. She exploded and her innards scattered around, while the rest of her body dissolved to ashes.

Abdin reached out and took the ID card on the ground. The name and image were still visible. He turned it over for a little while before releasing a stream of lightning and burning it down.

The young woman had tried to say anything to save her life, but Abdin wouldn't give her the chance to recover and retaliate. He knew very little about Nánata. It wouldn't surprise him the least bit if they possessed some powerful skills rivaling his own or even stronger than his.

He extracted himself from the pit and headed for the castle gate. After walking for a few minutes, he saw Juwaira and Denyanu coming toward him. The two must have seen the flames resulting from the battle and were coming to check.

Denyanu hurriedly came to him while Juwaira lagged.

"What happened, Commander? Where is she..." the old man trailed off when he saw Abdin's face.

Abdin ignored him and walked directly in front of the princess. The lady lowered her head.

"You never told me she was taking you home."

"She was not taking me home. Everything she told you was a lie."

Abdin drew in some breath. One of them had to be lying.

"I am telling you the truth. She said it was my father who sent her to take me home, but why were we always going further away from Shurein? We should have reached home in the past three months if she were telling the truth. But every day, she would say go west, go west. Why would someone going to Shurein go west?"

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Then, where do you think she was taking you to? And why didn't you try to escape?"

"I don't know. I don't even have a clue. And without getting rid of that tattoo she stamped on me, there was nothing I could have done."

Abdin laughed bitterly. The truth had just dawned on him. This girl was clever. "You deliberately told me to kill her. You knew she would overhear us, so you sought to force my hands even if I am not willing. Fully knowing she would try to get rid of me the moment she hears I am trying to kill her. And that way you would get your wish."

Juwaira lowered her head without replying. She wasn't sure if Laluri would overhear their conversation, but she suspected it. And as Abdin rightly said, she deliberately sought him out to have that conversation. But she never meant to leave him to fight Laluri alone. That was why she eavesdropped on them every time Abdin spoke to the woman, so she could help if the need arose.

"I will forget about our friendship if you do anything of that sort again," Abdin finally said.

"You... paid the dowry. The tattoo is gone," she said, hastening to change the subject.

Abdin shrugged. Marriage wasn't his major priority right now. An army was waiting at the gates. If what Laluri said was true, then the masked man alone was more dangerous than an army.

On the other hand, Juwaira had misunderstood what he meant by shrugging and her brows furrowed. She had broached the subject of their marriage, but he acted nonchalantly. She knew his type. They acted as if they didn't care, but they would use the first chance they got. She would eventually tame him.

Abdin had already turned toward the gates and they were forced to follow.

On their way, the lady covered her face again, as Denyanu updated Abdin about the number of the army that waited for them beyond the gates.

A few minutes later and Abdin was looking at rows of soldiers. They were separated into two groups. The same group that consisted of the jungle men and the villagers of Duna was still there, seemingly determined to take back their farmlands. The other group was that of the disciples from Will of San who were just there to rob him.

The difference between the two groups was glaring. Every disciple wore a golden-colored robe, and they were neat and assembled in tidy rows. Some of them had a sash of weapons strapped to their backs, and the rest without any weapons had their bag of holding slung to their shoulders.

A short distance in front of the army, five cultivators stood. Four of them stood suspended in the air, while the last sat cross-legged on a white veil.

These five had the strongest cultivation on the entire field, discounting the silver-masked man who was still on his horse atop the hill.