In the dense gray mist, a hoarse, murmuring voice echoed, carrying a hypnotic, sinister quality.
This was one of the Mist Lord's psychic attack abilities—Murmur of the Abyss.
The spell could evoke deep-seated fears and negative emotions, significantly weakening an opponent's combat effectiveness.
Against weak-willed prey, this ability was devastating.
At the same time, it served as a method to gauge an enemy's strength—those with greater willpower would be harder to manipulate and less affected by its corrupting influence.
The moment Feng Qi and Mu Qing stepped into the Mist Domain Field, they had been tracking the Mist Lord's presence.
Now, as the eerie whispers filled the air, they locked onto his exact location.
This was the best chance to strike.
If they continued pretending to be weak, they might never get the Mist Lord to reveal himself.
His usual method of killing prey was to absorb their blood through the mist, eliminating the need for direct confrontation.
Having spent time with the Old Mist in the past, Feng Qi knew his tendencies well.
The Old Mist had always been fascinated by human mythology, studying its origins to understand human society's structure and evolution.
During this period, he learned about a certain type of creature—vampires.
He had scoffed at the idea of these mythical beings that needed to sink their teeth into their victims to drink their blood, calling their methods crude and inefficient.
He believed that manipulating life force remotely was the most effective way to drain a target dry.
That's why, once they pinpointed his location, they had to act immediately. Hesitation would only give him more time to escape.
Hearing Feng Qi's call, Mu Qing instantly shifted into battle mode.
A jade-colored glow enveloped her, surging with overwhelming vitality, as if a blazing sun had risen in the darkness, pushing back the surrounding mist.
As she swung her fist forward, a powerful gust tore through the air, distorting space itself under the sheer force of her punch. The impact surged outward like an unstoppable tidal wave, carving a thousand-meter-long path through the thick mist.
The fierce wind pressure stung Feng Qi's face, forcing him to squint.
Boom!
The explosive impact reverberated like a thunderclap, scattering the mist and revealing a stunned face within its depths.
It was an all-too-familiar visage—the Old Mist.
His expression froze in shock, clearly bewildered by how his "prey" had suddenly unleashed such terrifying strength.
Before he could recover, Mu Qing's foot slammed into the ground, causing the earth beneath her to shatter. In an instant, her figure vanished from her original spot and reappeared right in front of the Mist Lord's face.
The sheer force of her presence was suffocating.
Sensing the imminent danger, the Mist Lord swiftly retreated, but Mu Qing's second punch was already upon him.
Her aura locked onto him like an iron vice, preventing any chance of escape.
Her radiant life force clashed violently against the mist, causing it to sizzle and dissolve.
Though her punch seemed purely physical, it was infused with an immense energy that made it devastating to mist-based entities like the Mist Lord.
Even if he wanted to absorb it, the sheer intensity of her vitality was too much for him to handle.
Though her punch didn't land directly, the shockwave—wrapped in jade-colored energy—smashed into the mist, obliterating the Old Mist's face.
For a brief moment, it was as if he had been erased from existence.
But within seconds, the mist twisted and reformed, and his face reappeared, his eyes burning with fury.
"Why are you attacking me? We have no quarrel!" His voice was cold and sharp.
"We may not have a grudge, but your dear friend here wants you dead," Mu Qing said with an exaggeratedly serious expression. "He got paid with snacks, so now he's got to do the job."
Feng Qi: …
Hearing this, Feng Qi could only curse in his mind.
Where the hell did she learn to talk like this?!
The Old Mist was visibly taken aback.
He had no recollection of ever encountering Mu Qing before, let alone making enemies with her.
His people had all perished when they attempted to open a pathway to this world. He alone had survived, carrying the core of the Mist Domain Field with him.
Who could she possibly be talking about?
After a moment of silence, his voice deepened.
"I believe there's been a misunderstanding. You have the wrong target."
"No misunderstanding," Mu Qing said, her jade-colored aura intensifying as the energy within her body surged like a roaring tide.
"Then tell me, who wants me dead?"
"Feng Qi."
The moment she spoke his name, Mu Qing's fist shot forward, and the resulting impact shattered the Old Mist's face once more.
Before he could reassemble, more jade-colored fist shadows rained down upon the mist, relentlessly pounding away at his form.
With every hit, the energy stored within the mist was rapidly depleted, making it increasingly difficult for the Old Mist to maintain his existence.
Feng Qi noticed that as the battle continued, the Mist Lord was gradually being pushed into a corner. The surrounding gray mist started rapidly condensing, coiling inward like living tendrils. Above, countless spectral claws formed from the mist rained down densely from the sky, attempting to pin them down.
At the same time, within the swirling mist, the outline of a young man with violet hair and glowing purple eyes flickered in and out of sight before fully solidifying. The moment his body took shape, he disappeared from his original position, narrowly dodging Mu Qing's fully charged punch.
But before he could stabilize himself upon landing, Mu Qing's figure was already behind him.
Boom!
A solid punch landed directly on the Mist Lord's head, sending his body crashing into the ground. His entire head was buried into the dirt. Just as Mu Qing prepared to launch her follow-up attacks, his body suddenly dispersed into mist, spiraling upward like living smoke, trying to coil around Mu Qing and bind her.
In the past, this corrosive gray mist could dissolve flesh upon contact, rapidly draining a target's life force and blood essence. But the moment it touched the jade-colored energy surrounding Mu Qing's body, it let out a sizzling sound as if acid had been poured onto it. The mist rapidly dissolved, unable to withstand her presence.
Feng Qi realized that the Mist Lord was no longer in his weakened state from when they first met. His injuries from attempting to break through the Heaven's Ascent Path had mostly recovered, making him far stronger than before.
In the previous timeline, the Mist Lord had suffered heavy injuries and spent years recuperating. His weakened state had forced Feng Qi to risk his life protecting him. Now, however, he was capable of putting up a real fight against Mu Qing.
Back then, Feng Qi had not witnessed their battle firsthand. However, he had gone through various records, and from the descriptions provided by Mu Qing's teammates, she had entered an uncontrollable state upon seeing the Mist Lord attack her allies. Her strength had skyrocketed, allowing her to effortlessly suppress and defeat him.
This explained why, despite being overwhelmed, the Mist Lord was still able to put up resistance now.
The shift in the timeline made a huge difference.
In the previous timeline, Mu Qing had fought the Mist Lord two and a half years later.
If she had been eating three meals a day at Star City Academy, that meant 912 days had passed—equating to 2737 meals.
Given that Mu Qing's strength grew exponentially based on her food intake, she was still far from reaching her peak as the leader of the Dawn Rebel Army. She had yet to reach the level of power she would have in two and a half years.
Even so, her current strength was more than enough to suppress the Mist Lord.
Under Mu Qing's relentless attacks, the Mist Lord found himself completely on the defensive, relying on the blood energy stored within the mist to repeatedly mend his form, desperately seeking an opportunity to counterattack.
The Mist Lord was furious.
For a long time, he had been monitoring the integration of the Mist Domain Field with the human world. He had been patiently waiting for the fusion to be completed before launching his domain expansion plan.
Although he had lost his people, he believed that with his abilities, he could expand the domain, absorb weaker species, and rebuild his forces.
Once he had gathered enough sacrifices, he could use their blood to resurrect his fallen kin.
The future of the Mist Clan was not yet lost.
He had carefully bided his time, waiting for the right moment. Just as the integration of the Mist Domain Field was nearing completion—just as his expansion plan was about to begin—he had been ambushed.
Had he at least known why he was being attacked, he might have accepted it.
But these lunatics had clearly mistaken him for someone else!
Snacks as payment? A brother he never had? When had he ever had a brother?!
The Mist Lord was seething with rage.
He had heard of the concept of "fate" back in the Domain World, but now, he was beginning to believe in it.
Ever since he led his people in attempting to carve a path to this world, it was as if they had been cursed.
Or perhaps, as some in the Domain World believed, their clan had exhausted its luck, and their downfall had become inevitable.
When they first opened the path, they had encountered terrifyingly strong adversaries.
After an intense battle that claimed the lives of all his kin, he had barely managed to break through the world's barrier alone.
Since arriving in the human world, he had been in hiding, nursing his wounds, waiting for the right moment to act.
But before he could even begin his expansion, disaster had come knocking at his door.
And his attackers were terrifyingly strong.
If they had come in and simply declared, "We're here to kill you, no reason needed," he might have felt slightly better.
The principle of the strong preying on the weak applied universally. There was no need for a reason to kill—just the simple fact that one was stronger and wanted to do so.
But the real issue here was that his attackers claimed they had been sent by his "brother," which clearly meant they had mistaken him for someone else.
Thinking about this only made the Mist Lord feel even more miserable.
As Mu Qing relentlessly pressured him, he struggled to resist, but her abilities completely countered his.
The gray mist that had always been his most formidable weapon dissolved like butter under the scorching sun the moment it touched the jade-colored energy surrounding Mu Qing. It was utterly ineffective against her.
For the first time, the thought of fleeing crept into his mind.
His wish to resurrect his kin had not yet been realized. Against Mu Qing, who was undeniably stronger than him, he saw no chance of victory. If he continued fighting until his stored blood energy was depleted, only death awaited him.
So long as he survived, there was still hope.
Losing the Mist Domain Field would certainly put him at a disadvantage, but at least he would still be alive. The future was full of possibilities.
Yet, no matter how he tried to escape, Mu Qing would shatter his form every time, preventing him from fleeing even an inch.
Suppressing his frustration, the Mist Lord turned his gaze toward Feng Qi, who was standing at a distance, watching the battle.
It was clear that this man and Mu Qing were working together.
A thought crossed his mind—he could use Feng Qi to threaten her.
Without hesitation, he commanded the surrounding mist to surge toward Feng Qi, enclosing him in an attempt to use him as leverage.
This was a tactic he had employed in the previous timeline as well.
Back then, unable to find a way to counter Mu Qing's overwhelming power, he had instead targeted her teammates, hoping to divert her attention and create an opening.
Unfortunately for him, that plan had backfired spectacularly. Instead of distracting Mu Qing, it had driven her into an uncontrollable frenzy, causing her combat power to skyrocket.
What had started as suppression had quickly turned into a brutal one-sided beating.
The mist rapidly enveloped Feng Qi, gray tendrils forming shackles that wrapped around his limbs.
A powerful corrosive force spread across his skin, leaving dark marks as his blood essence was siphoned away by the mist.
The Mist Lord was just about to use this as a bargaining chip when an unexpected scene unfolded before his eyes.
The mist chains binding Feng Qi's limbs snapped apart. The control over his blood essence was severed, and his body rapidly began to change.
The blood that had been drained surged back into his form, coalescing into thick, pulsing veins of pure crimson energy.
In an instant, Feng Qi transformed into a towering three-meter-tall blood-colored giant.
He locked eyes with the Mist Lord from a distance, smirking slightly before charging forward at incredible speed.
At the same time, Mu Qing's fist roared through the air toward the Mist Lord once more.
Reacting instinctively, the Mist Lord dodged.
He barely avoided the direct impact, but the sheer force of Mu Qing's attack still tore through the mist, dispersing large sections of it.
Just as he was about to regroup, Feng Qi suddenly appeared before him, his massive blood-red fist crashing down.
The Mist Lord condensed a mist-formed fist of his own and swung it to meet Feng Qi's strike head-on.
Boom!
A shockwave erupted from the collision, sending ripples through the surrounding mist.
But his mist-formed fist shattered instantly under the impact.
Before he could react, Mu Qing had already repositioned herself behind him, her next strike obliterating his mist-formed body once again.
Blow after blow rained down, and the Mist Lord felt an overwhelming sense of despair.
He had thought Feng Qi would be an easy target, someone who hadn't made a move until now.
He had never expected that Feng Qi was just as monstrous as Mu Qing.
Now, with the two of them working together, he had no hope of victory.
A powerful will to survive burned within him.
Without hesitation, he chose to burn his own essence, consuming his core strength in a desperate attempt to break free.
The gray mist, now infused with surging blood energy, turned deep crimson. A massive, towering figure formed from pure blood energy materialized within the mist.
The blood-colored giant extended a massive hand, swatting Feng Qi away with a single blow.
Feng Qi, thrown back by the impact, looked up at the colossal form before him with a complex expression.
This scene was eerily familiar.
A similar event had occurred in Old Day City.
Back then, the Mist Lord had burned his core essence in a final act of desperation—not to escape, but to save Feng Qi's life.
The flood of emotions surged through Feng Qi's mind, but he quickly suppressed them.
Hesitation now would be a betrayal of everything he was fighting for.
He carried the hopes of everyone who had sacrificed themselves on this timeline.
He clenched his fists and charged forward.
No matter what emotions stirred within him, he could not afford to let the Mist Lord escape.
If he let him go, he would be failing those who had fought and died to reach this point.
Feng Qi and Mu Qing attacked in perfect synchronization.
The Mist Lord desperately tried to ascend, attempting to escape into the sky.
But every time he reformed his body, he was struck down, his misty form shattered, forcing him to rebuild himself over and over again.
The more he struggled, the more his body fragmented.
Each time he reformed, the process became more sluggish, his movements more strained.
Yet, even as his strength drained away, the Mist Lord fought with the tenacity of a starving wolf, refusing to surrender.
His desperate hunger for survival drove him forward.
He was not ready to die here.
He had dreams of rebuilding his people, of reviving his kin.
He had ambitions, hopes, and an unyielding desire for the future.
But it didn't matter anymore.
This time, against the combined forces of Feng Qi and Mu Qing, there was no escape.
And even if he somehow managed to break free, there was still Lü Yue waiting outside to ensure he never left the battlefield alive.
Under the relentless barrage from Feng Qi and Mu Qing, the blood mist giant's regeneration slowed significantly. Finally, parts of its body could no longer maintain cohesion. Amidst the swirling crimson haze, a young man with purple hair and violet eyes glared at them with unyielding resentment.
"I will not fall… I will never fall!"
With another devastating strike from Mu Qing, the Mist Lord's gaze grew unfocused, his voice almost pleading as he muttered to himself. His words were filled with an overwhelming longing for survival.
As his consciousness wavered, images from the past surfaced in his mind.
It was as if time had folded in on itself, the memories flashing through his mind like scenes from a fading dream.
That year, he had stood before the Mist Throne, draped in robes woven from the very mist itself. The flames of the torches burned bright as day, casting their light over countless kneeling Mist Clan members.
In that moment, he had sworn an oath to his people.
He had promised to lead them to the pinnacle of power, beyond the cycle of life and death, to forge an everlasting future of glory.
That passionate declaration still echoed in his mind.
Now, on the brink of death, he lifted his gaze to the sky, reaching out as if trying to grasp the distant stars, to clutch at the last glimmer of hope. His body trembled, barely able to remain standing.
"Roar!"
Like a final flare of defiance, he let out a bellow toward the heavens.
Time seemed to freeze in that instant, sending a violent tremor through Feng Qi's heart.
Scenes of the past, of their time together, played vividly in his mind.
From the snow-covered battlefronts to the days they worked together in Winterfell City, from their struggles in the supply zone of Old Day City to the brutal battles fought alongside the Death Star Battle Group.
And then, their days at the Tiger Soul Research Institute.
He remembered how the Mist Lord had once stood atop the headquarters of Tiger Soul, pointing at the rising sun, and had told him:
"Ah Qi, when I reach the summit of this world, you will have a place at my side."
When he had asked why the Mist Lord was so determined to climb to the top, the Mist Lord had laughed and said:
"From the peak of the highest mountains, you can witness the rivers carving their path. From the summit of the world, you can feel the wind sweeping across the heavens. Up there lies the freedom I seek, a place where no one can dictate the fate of me or my people!"
The ambition in his eyes had been unmistakable.
On the execution ground, the Mist Lord had fought his way through a sea of blood just to reach Feng Qi.
When Feng Qi had asked him why he had come, the Mist Lord had merely smiled and said:
"My people are all dead. You're the only family I have left. I'm taking you home."
In the end, with death closing in on him, the Mist Lord had clung to his last moments of life to pass on to Feng Qi the technique of the Flesh Cauldron, urging him to walk forward and witness the true peak of power.
His final wish had been simple: that Feng Qi would one day stand atop the world and see the view from the summit on his behalf.
There was no denying that the Mist Lord was cruel, ruthless, and would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, treating all lives as mere pieces on a chessboard to be manipulated and sacrificed.
Yet, when it came to the people he cared about, his feelings had been genuine.
A deep guilt had always weighed on Feng Qi's heart whenever he thought of the Mist Lord.
Now, seeing him so helpless, his once indomitable will fading into despair, Feng Qi felt a sharp, piercing pain deep in his soul.
But in the end, he still chose to close his eyes.
At that moment, Mu Qing's fist, burning like the radiant sun, came crashing down.