The mercenary’s skull burst like overripe fruit. Bai shook crimson droplets from its claws, the metallic tang of fresh blood overpowering the solarstones’ burnt-sulfur odor. Lin Hao’s spatial ring pulsed with stolen radiance—its surface warm against his palm.

  12:01 – Convergence

  The tunnel’s acoustics warped as Lin Hao approached the octagonal chamber. Hundreds of warriors hammered at a crackling lightning barrier, their weapons sparking against the Saint-tier defense matrix. Through Kung Fu Fly’s compound eyes, he saw five luminous shapes suspended within—a sword, spear, bow, dagger, and cuirass, each radiating primal energy that made molars ache.

  “Spiritual artifacts,” Lin Hao breathed. His draconic pupils dilated, revealing microscopic inscriptions swirling within each weapon’s aura—ancient glyphs of stormbinding.

  12:03 – Opportunism

  Fang Xiaoke pressed against a shadowed alcove, her bloodied palm leaving smears on lightning-etched walls. Chen Wu’s corpse lay nearby, half-consumed by the defensive grid’s backlash—a carbonized sculpture still clutching his broken blade.

  Lin Hao’s boot dislodged a pebble. The clatter echoed like thunderclap in the frenzy. Dozens of heads turned. Weapons stilled mid-swing as warriors reassessed priorities—prey recognizing apex predator.

  12:05 – Ascendancy

  Bai’s growl liquefied bowels. The crowd parted like wheat before scythes. Lin Hao approached the barrier, solarstone heat radiating from his pores in visible ripples. The lightning matrix flared—Saint Wu Kuang’s residual will testing intruders.

  “Master,” Kung Fu Fly buzzed against his earlobe, “artifacts’ resonance matches your draconic meridians. Recommend synchronized frequency modulation.”

  Lin Hao’s clawed fingertips brushed the crackling field. Skin blistered instantly.

  12:07 – Revelation

  Pain clarified. The defense matrix wasn’t pure energy—it undulated with the Saint’s martial intent. Each lightning strand carried memories of ten thousand battles. Lin Hao’s draconic core vibrated, matching the rhythm of a spear thrust that had once sundered mountains.

  The barrier rippled. Warriors gasped as his arm passed through unscathed.

  12:09 – Claiming

  Five artifacts sang as his shadow fell upon them. The sword levitated first—its blade a shard of frozen lightning that hummed with contained typhoons. Lin Hao’s grip ignited dormant runes along the fuller. Energy backlash vaporized his sleeve, revealing scales that drank the artifact’s fury.

  Chaos erupted.

  12:11 – Annihilation

  The spear came alive in his left hand. Its haft twisted like living wood, barbed tip crackling with spatial tears. A mercenary lunged—his bisected torso hit the floor before his war cry faded.

  Bai rampaged through the mob, each swipe of its horned skull spraying viscera across lightning-charred walls. Kung Fu Fly darted between eye sockets, precision strikes leaving warriors clawing at hollowed craniums.

  12:13 – Exodus

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  Survivors fled through vomit-slick corridors. Lin Hao stood amid the carnage, artifacts orbiting him like obedient comets. The cuirass clamped around his torso—living metal fusing with draconic scales to form a carapace that hissed with contained storms.

  Fang Xiaoke emerged trembling. “You’re… collecting his legacy?”

  Lin Hao rotated the dagger—its edge drawing blood from the air itself. “Legacies are for the dead.” The bow materialized in his grip, drawn with a lightning arrow that illuminated her tear-streaked face. “I prefer trophies.”

  12:15 – Convergence

  Deep within the tomb, Wu Kuang’s skeletal fingers twitched. Five artifact signatures disappearing from his deathbed sensors. The Saint’s laughter shook dust from ceiling stones—a dry, crackling sound like kindling catching fire.

  Predator’s Gambit

  The metallic wall exhaled cold air that frosted Lin Hao’s eyelashes. Through Wolf Spider’s infrared vision, he watched Chen Wu’s dagger bite into Fang Xiaoke’s wrist—a slow, deliberate incision that released blood smelling of copper and faint jasmine. The droplet hovered, thick with ancestral promise, before merging with the wall’s central sigil.

  13:22 – Betrayal

  Red tendrils pulsed through engraved channels. The barrier groaned upward, revealing a vault where air tasted of mummified incense. Fang Xiaoke’s smile died as steel erupted through her sternum. Chen Wu’s blade twisted, grinding against rib cartilage with a sound like splintering crab shells.

  “Stupid girl,” he sneered, withdrawing the sword with a wet schlick. “Blood opens doors. Corpses close them.”

  Her body hit stone tiles already absorbing the spill. Pupils dilated in death-fixed accusation.

  13:23 – Retribution

  Chen Wu never heard the attack. Wolf Spider’s barbed tail pierced his larynx from behind—venom dissolving vocal cords before a scream could form. He collapsed beside his cousin, fingers clawing at a throat swelling shut. Acid bubbles popped in his trachea, releasing fumes that stung Lin Hao’s nostrils three corridors away.

  13:25 – Ascendancy

  Lin Hao entered the vault. Bai sniffed the corpses, primate fingers testing Fang Xiaoke’s still-warm jugular. The chamber’s walls gleamed with alloy panels colder than glacial ice. At its center floated a crystalline casket—its occupant preserved in lightning. Saint Wu Kuang’s mummified hands clutched a staff whose head crackled with contained supercells.

  “Master.” Kung Fu Fly alighted on the casket. “Energy readings exceed artifact tier. Recommend caution.”

  Lin Hao’s scales rippled in discordant waves. The staff’s aura pressed like submerged depths—ancient, ravenous.

  13:27 – Revelation

  Wolf Spider scuttled to a control dais. Its mandibles depressed runes in sequences no human could decipher. Holograms bloomed—blueprints of the tomb’s true prize. Not the staff. Not the artifacts.

  The Saint’s corpse itself.

  Preservation fluids drained. Wu Kuang’s eyelids twitched. Lin Hao’s draconic instincts screamed retreat even as curiosity anchored him. The mummy sat upright, leathery lips parting to exhale ozone.

  13:29 – Confrontation

  “Thief.” The word vibrated from every surface. “You reek of borrowed scales.”

  Lin Hao’s sword hummed to life. “And you stink of failure.” He gestured at the vault’s plundered emptiness. “What kind of Saint leaves his hoard unguarded?”

  Wu Kuang’s laughter crackled like forest fire. “Arrogant hatchling. You stand in the guardian’s belly.”

  The walls rippled. Alloy became scales. Floor became tongue. Lin Hao realized too late—the entire chamber was the Saint’s final artifact, a transformation trap spanning centuries.

  13:31 – Escalation

  Bai roared, slamming fists against the contracting walls. Each impact sparked showers of molten metal. Kung Fu Fly darted through narrowing gaps, sensors mapping weak points. Wolf Spider’s venom sacs emptied into control runes, buying seconds through corrosive sabotage.

  Lin Hao’s claws scraped the staff from Wu Kuang’s grip. Lightning seared his palms—third-degree burns regenerating as fast as they formed.

  “Fool!” The Saint’s corpse crumbled, its essence transferring to the storm staff. “That conduit requires a soul stronger than—”

  Lin Hao rammed the staff’s base through his own sternum.

  13:33 – Apotheosis

  Saint and dragon screamed in unison. The chamber-turned-behemoth convulsed. Lin Hao’s vision whited out as primal energies fused—scales rewriting themselves around lightning’s syntax, neurons firing with stormfront logic.

  When the detonation cleared, only ash remained of Wu Kuang’s final gambit.

  Lin Hao stood reborn. Static danced between fangs. His shadow now crackled with contained thunderheads.

  Bai approached warily, nostrils flaring at the scent of charged ozone where blood once flowed.

  “Master…?”

  He flexed claws. The gesture tore parallel lightning bolts across the vault’s ruins.

  “Better.”