NOVPUBTraining Head's hands flew to his head, a silent scream trapped within his throat.
It felt as though his skull was about to shatter, an unbearable pressure building within, yet simultaneously, a deep, irresistible slumber pulled at him, threatening to drag him into the underworld.
He staggered, his vision blurring, unable to comprehend the sudden assault.
Ye Yang, however, didn't waste a second on the convulsing form of Training Head. His gaze, hardened with fury, swept across the assembled soldiers, numbering close to thirty.
Confusion rippled through their ranks. They have seen many thing and show like todays wasn't the first time Training Head has humiliated a woman in public, but this...this was beyond their comprehension.
Their leader, a man who exuded power and cruelty, was now trembling, incapacitated by an unseen force.
Ye Yang clenched his one hand and another hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. He remembered the taunts, the crude jeers that had assaulted his ears just moments ago.
He would make them pay. With a speed that belied his rage, he moved. A swift, brutal arc of his blade, and the head of the closest soldier, the one who had so gleefully mocked him and called him a cuck, tumbled to the ground, a spray of blood painting the dusty earth.
Chaos erupted.
The remaining soldiers, jolted from their stupor, finally reacted. Ten of them, the closest to Ye Yang charged forward, their swords clashed against his, imbued with the extreme Qi.
Ye Yang's focus sharpened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins, met their attack. He parried, dodged, and weaved, then attacked to take their lives.
Yet, even with his skill, he felt the pressure mounting. Their numbers were a disadvantage. He was fighting a defensive battle, slowly being pushed back.
Thought even with their sheer number, they failed to touch his body but the overwhelming number was pushing him into the corner, which he knew isn't going help him in long run.
Then, a flicker of memory. The illusion world, the puzzle formation... the five elements. He'd mastered them there.
Like a muscle memory, His focused drawing upon the power within him, channelling his Qi.
The air around him shimmered. He called forth the fire, the Yang energy, a wave of heat radiating outwards, pushing back the attacking soldiers, their faces contorted in surprise as they lose their lives.
He followed with water, the Yin energy, a chilling mist that swirled around his blade, adding a biting frost to his strikes. Their momentum faltered, their attacks less sure, their confidence shaken.
But the fight wasn't over. They rallied, their Qi enhanced swords flashing in the late afternoon sun.
Ye Yang, his breath coming in ragged gasps, pushed himself harder. He channelled the earth, feeling the ground beneath his feet become an extension of himself, granting him stability, grounding him in the chaos.
Then he summoned the wind, a swirling vortex that disrupted their formations, creating openings, making their attacks clumsy.
Finally, he reached for the most volatile element, the space. He felt the fabric of reality itself bend to his will, a raw, untamed power coursing through him.
He unleashed it, a wave of pure energy that ripped through the training ground, tearing apart the earth, shattering the training dummies, and obliterating the remaining soldiers in a cataclysmic display of force.
The training ground, once a bustling hub of activity, was now a scene of utter destruction. Ye Yang, his body trembling with exhaustion, his lungs burning, slumped to his knees.
He had won, but at a terrible cost. He had unleashed a power he barely understood, and the result was carnage.
He slowly rose, his gaze sweeping across the devastation as blood was leaking from his nose and mouth.
He focused, his eyes narrowing as he looked for Hell and Dan Ya in the destroyed area with nervous eyes. Just then he saw a man carrying woman in his arms.
Standing amidst the rubble, cradling the unconscious Dan Ya in his arms, was a tall man, with skin the colour of tanned leather and clad in tight-fitting black clothes that accentuated his powerful build.
A surge of protective instinct flooded Ye Yang's veins. He took a step forward, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword, but then... he felt it.
A connection, a familiar warmth that washed over him, a recognition that transcended appearance. This was Hell.
"Prepare for the actual battle, Ye Yang," the man said, his voice deep and resonant, yet with that familiar playful undertone. He gestured with a nod towards a section of the raised earth.
From the shattered ground, a figure began to rise. Wounded, bruised, and bleeding, but alive. It was Training Head, his eyes filled with a terrifying mixture of rage and hate, his body trembling, but the killing intent in his eyes was still palpable.
From the shattered earth, Training Head rose, his eyes burning with unfiltered rage swept across the scene of utter devastation – the ruined training ground, the splintered remnants of the dummies, and most significantly, the mangled bodies of his soldiers.
His personal guard, lying still amidst the debris. A guttural roar tore from his throat, a sound that was more animal than human.
His bloodshot eyes locked onto Ye Yang. "Ye Yang..." His voice was a ragged snarl, dripping with venom.
"Look what you have done. Again, you have ruined my plans. This time, your death isn't going to be an easy one."
He staggered forward, pointing a trembling, bloodied finger. "No... I won't kill you. I'll cripple you, break you completely, and then, in front of your eyes, I'll corrupt every woman you know in your life. Starting with her."
He turned his gaze back towards where Dan Ya lay. His eyes fell upon the man standing there, holding her. Training Head froze.
The shock was instantaneous, palpable. He could feel it – a power emanating from this figure was hard to perceive, a power that dwarfed his own seasoned cultivation.
He couldn't discern the man's exact level, it was obscured by some unseen barrier, but instinct screamed at him that he was utterly outmatched.
His eyes darted to the unconscious, naked Dan Ya in the man's arms. Another wave of shock, but this one mingled with a chilling dread. Who was this man? How had he appeared so silently, so quickly?
Despite the fear coiling in his gut, Training Head's arrogance, his ingrained belief in his own ultimate power, didn't completely crumble. He straightened slightly, forcing a semblance of his usual cruel demeanour.
"Who are you?"
He demanded, his voice rough, though the doubt was clear in his tone but he wasn't backing down.
He had a trump card, a final desperate measure, and he clung to the belief it might still matter against this unknown person.
Hell, still cradling Dan Ya with effortless ease, sneered, a slow, contemptuous twist of his lips. "You are not qualified to ask. Just die soon. I don't have time to waste on you."
"You!"
Training Head roared, the insult like a physical blow. His face contorted with rage, directed now at this dismissive stranger. But before he could fully unleash his fury, another voice, raw with pain and righteous anger, cut through the air.
