Xia Huanshen seemed to sense the impending danger. With a snarl, the creature lunged at Shi Ma, intent on finishing the fight. But Shi Ma was faster. He sidestepped the charge and thrust his glowing palm into Xia Huanshen’s chest, directly over where the creature’s heart should have been.

The impact was cataclysmic. The concentrated Qi exploded outward, ripping through Xia Huanshen’s body with a force that tore the very air apart. The creature’s form convulsed, its Qi unravelling as the shockwave of energy obliterated the core of its being.

Xia Huanshen’s body twisted and contorted in agony, its flesh disintegrating into ash as the force of Shi Ma’s strike consumed it from within. The abomination let out one final, inhuman scream before it was completely obliterated, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and a lingering echo of its fury.

As the dust began to settle, Shi Ma allowed himself a brief flicker of hope. Relief washed over him, his vision slowly clearing to reveal the remnants of the battlefield. The ground was scarred, a gaping crater where Xia Huanshen had stood. There was no movement, no sign of life. It was over—or so he thought.

Then, a low, guttural voice broke the silence, creeping from the edge of the crater.

"So… this is how you plan to end me? I am disappointed."

The voice sent a chill down Shi Ma’s spine. His blood ran cold as his eyes snapped toward the source of the sound. There, standing unscathed at the center of the devastation, was Xia Huanshen. No wounds. No signs of exhaustion. It was as if the battle had never even touched him.

“What?” Shi Ma gasped, his body betraying him, fear gripping his heart.

Xia Huanshen’s lips curled into a twisted smile, his dark eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “Hahahahahaha. You actually bought it, didn’t you?” His laughter echoed across the shattered landscape, mocking Shi Ma’s efforts. “Did you truly believe your little display was enough to defeat me?”

Shi Ma’s mind raced, unable to comprehend the scene before him. His most powerful attack had meant nothing. He had poured everything into that strike, and yet Xia Huanshen stood before him, laughing.

Finally, the undead abomination calmed his laughter, looking down at Shi Ma with a mix of pity and disdain. "During my time as the Demon of A Thousand Faces, I mastered every art my sect had to offer, combined them, and birthed something greater. A technique all my own!" His voice dripped with satisfaction. “What you experienced, dear Shi Ma, was never real. It was all in your mind—an illusion I projected directly into your soul!”

Shi Ma’s eyes widened in disbelief, his muscles tensing as the weight of Xia Huanshen's words settled over him like a death sentence.

Thousand Masks Sect—The Dream of a Hundred!

Rage boiled up within Shi Ma, his heart pounding with fury and frustration. All that effort, all that power, and for what? For nothing. His grip on his sword tightened, and in a blind fury, he reached deep into his core, drawing on the power of the Draconic Blood—this time tapping into the collective might of the Dragon Generals.

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The ground shook beneath his feet as his Qi surged to new heights. His muscles bulged with renewed vigor, and with a bellow of pure wrath, Shi Ma swung his blade down with unparalleled force, aiming to cleave Xia Huanshen in two.

Absolute Decimation!

The heavens and earth shattered into a myriad of pieces as his attack made contact.

Time itself seemed to stop, frozen in the wake of their clash.

Space felt as though it had never existed, erased by the sheer magnitude of the blow.

Qi drained from the world, as if the very essence of life had been consumed.

There was no sound, for the attack transcended even the concept of noise.

No image could form, for it moved faster than sight could capture.

All that remained were the aftereffects.

Shi Ma stood, unable to move an inch, drained of every last drop of energy. Every fiber of his being had been squeezed dry, his strength pushed to the absolute limit to eliminate the threat before him. Now, all that remained was exhaustion—a bone-deep weariness that weighed him down.

"Xia Huanshen, I promise to bring about Xia Longwei’s end and avenge you!" Shi Ma thought, a sense of peace washing over him despite his battered state.

True Grandmaster—Shi Ma!

As his body began to slowly heal, the soft sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Out of nowhere, a cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, walking with an unsettling calm toward Shi Ma. The figure stopped directly in front of him, towering over the broken warrior.

"I really didn’t think you’d fall for it twice!" the man cackled, his voice dripping with mocking amusement. Shi Ma’s face drained of color, a creeping dread spreading through him.

"How?" Shi Ma croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. He was certain—absolutely certain—that this time, with Absolute Decimation, he had erased his enemy from existence. That attack influenced the time stream itself allowing him to know whether he was in an illusion or not.

The man clicked his tongue in mock sympathy. "Oh, I feel pity for you, truly. As a little consolation, let me show you what really happened." With a snap of his fingers, the man’s voice turned cold and probing. "Tell me, what do you remember of Xia Huanshen?"

Shi Ma instinctively searched through his memories—digging, clawing—only to find... nothing.

His eyes widened in horror, his mind scrambling to understand the terrifying revelation.

"Shi Ma, you fool," the man sneered, his voice filled with venomous glee. "There is no Xia Huanshen!" He threw his head back, laughing with unrestrained delight, the sound echoing across the battlefield.

Shi Ma was silent. He had no words—nothing to say.

"Li Zhongu would’ve probably figured it out," the man jeered, twisting the blade of mockery deeper.

As the man’s hand reached toward Shi Ma’s chest, a desperate question escaped Shi Ma’s lips.

"Who... are you?"

The man smiled, a cruel, twisted grin that sent a chill down Shi Ma's spine.His hand pierced Shi Ma’s chest in one swift motion. His fingers wrapped around Shi Ma’s still-beating heart, and with a savage pull, he ripped it free.

Under normal circumstances, Shi Ma might have survived such an injury—his body would have healed. But now, in his broken state, this final, brutal attack marked the end of the Dragon General.

"I expected more," the man muttered with disdain, his face contorting as it shifted into another form. Without another word, the man vanished leaving behind nothing but the lifeless corpse of Shi Ma, sprawled in the ruins of battle.

The Dragon General had fallen.