Rylan's draconic talons were laced with hair-fine cuts. Blood trickled between scales and hissed wickedly when it struck the hot stone.
His aura turned ragged—Dragon Transformation burned energy faster than he could draw it—while Jared's aura remained as steady as before the duel started.
“Impossible! No way are you only Earthly Immortal Realm Level One!” Rylan roared, crimson pupils flaring.
He could not accept that a mixed-blood Draconian at Earthly Immortal Realm Level Eight was being manhandled in raw combat by an Earthly Immortal Realm Level One cultivator.
Jared brushed a thin ribbon of blood from his lip; the last claw strike had landed, yet the scratch felt as trivial as a paper cut.
“Cultivation level is a measuring stick, not the whole of strength,” Jared said, voice cold enough to frost steel. “You parade Earthly Immortal Realm Level Eight yet never learned to wield real power. Your defeat is earned, not stolen.”
“Bullsh*t!” Rylan spat.
He flung his jaws wide. A column of teal dragon breath burst out, hot enough to boil seas and char skies, hurtling toward Jared. The dragon breath was the nascence power of his Draconian bloodline, far surpassing ordinary divine power. Even an Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine struck by it would be reduced to ashes in an instant.
The Imperial Guards recoiled in panic; armor clanged as rows of soldiers scrambled for distance.
Yuliana's gaze flashed—she leaped forward, but the moment had already fled.
Cold determination flickered across Jared's eyes.
He inhaled once. Spiritual energy flooded his meridians, surging into clenched fists while Focus Technique braided a filament of chaotic energy around his knuckles.
A muted gray glow seeped from his skin—subtle to sight, heavy enough to crush mountains.
“Break!” Jared shouted.
His twin fists slammed forward, and a colossal gray imprint materialized in mid-air, colliding head-on with the teal-colored dragon breath.
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