Shaurya stood.
Not straight.
Not steady.
His back was slightly bent, spine letting out faint, brittle cracks as he forced his body upright. Blood slid down his arm, dripping from his fingers and splashing onto the fractured stone below. His legs trembled violently—muscles screaming, bones barely holding together.
One hundred and twenty-five broken bones.
And yet—
He refused to fall.
Behind him, towering into the ruined sky, stood his Spiritual Spirit Body.
A massive golden manifestation shaped exactly like him—broad-shouldered, calm-faced, eyes closed, radiating overwhelming pressure. Its presence alone crushed the air, pressing down on the battlefield like an invisible mountain.
In front of him—
Shadow Blade An Ning stood silently.
His posture was upright. His breathing controlled. His eyes sharp and calculating.
For a brief moment, he simply observed Shaurya.
Then he spoke.
"I didn't expect you to possess a Spiritual Spirit Body," An Ning said in a cold, even tone.
