The dark green gradient layer had now engulfed half his body—the entire right side.
His right foot had transformed, resembling the clawed foot of some monstrous beast.
Even so, he continued to parry every furious strike of the Magma Tyrant, his movements preternaturally fast. Then, in a single fluid motion, he unleashed a brutal counterattack.
The blow struck the Magma Tyrant square in the chest, sending it hurtling backward across the throne room toward its colossal seat of black magma. But the Tyrant did not fall. Planting its feet hard against the cracking floor, it dragged its molten blade sideways to catch friction, arresting its momentum before it crashed into the throne.
The air inside the magma hall grew heavy—choking, charged with currents of seething power that radiated from the two combatants as they faced each other across the broken flagstones. Fractures spidered outward in all directions, illuminated from below by the roiling glow of the molten earth itself. The walls pulsed with veins of orange heat, the chamber trembling as though the dungeon itself were straining to contain their fury.
Zhou Rui advanced, his gait no longer fully human. Each step was a predatory lunge, claws scraping the frozen crust of the floor and sending splinters of ice cascading into the superheated air. The Guardian Blade in his right hand hummed with emerald energy, its edge no longer smooth but jagged, alive—breathing. The dark green gradient devouring his flesh crept past his collarbone, seeping up the side of his neck, branching like some parasitic vine eager to consume everything it touched.
The Magma Tyrant raised its magma sword in salute, though no honor softened the red coals of its eyes. It moved, the vast blade trailing an arc of molten embers as it brought it sweeping toward Zhou Rui with an impact that would have split any lesser fighter in two.
Zhou Rui's transformed leg shifted, claws anchoring to the scorched stone, and he met the strike with a twisting parry that threw sparks across the walls like a storm of fireflies. He slid sideways to deflect the follow-up—a savage overhead cut—and with a flick of his blade, knocked the Tyrant's weapon wide.
The moment the opening appeared, Zhou Rui lunged. He struck low, the Guardian Blade slashing for the Tyrant's thigh in a blur of green steel, but the molten titan pivoted with impossible speed. Their weapons clashed again in a spray of vapor as magma met corrupted magic, filling the chamber with a deafening resonance.
Zhou Rui's corrupted arm flexed, the muscle beneath that dark green carapace swelling with borrowed power. He wrenched the Tyrant's blade to the side and drove his elbow into the creature's ribs. The impact resounded through the chamber, throwing ripples of force across the floor and making the pillars tremble. The Magma Tyrant staggered, but it did not fall—its clawed foot punched through the frozen crust, anchoring it in place.
For a heartbeat, they faced each other in stillness—warriors bound by an unspoken acknowledgment of the power they wielded. The air shimmered, charged with competing auras of suffocating heat and alien, viridian cold.
Then both moved again, neither willing to relent.
The Magma Tyrant's blade erupted with a bloom of incandescent lava, the air shrieking as it carved a molten arc toward Zhou Rui's midsection. He stepped inside the swing, his corrupted foot punching through the cracking stone as he raised the Guardian Blade overhead.
The impact when he brought it down was like a thunderclap. The Magma Tyrant slid back along the fractured floor, leaving a trail of molten footprints in its wake. Zhou Rui did not pursue immediately. Instead, he lifted the Guardian Blade, gathering power—an emerald vortex unfurling around the weapon like the coils of a serpent.
With a sudden, terrible release, the sword exhaled a scything wave of green energy. The air strike tore across the chamber, splitting the floor in a jagged wound of shimmering force. Ice shattered and magma hissed to steam as the wave struck the Tyrant head-on, wrapping its body in emerald flame that burned with a cold so intense it rivaled the dungeon's heat.
Yet even as cracks appeared across its armored form, the Magma Tyrant roared without voice, hefting its blade to respond. Lava gathered along its edge, a seething cataract that pulsed with heart-like rhythm. With a brutal, two-handed heave, it unleashed its own air strike—a roaring deluge of molten force that crashed into Zhou Rui's attack midair.
The chamber became an apocalypse of colliding powers. Green and red forces churned against each other, spitting shockwaves so fierce they tore chunks of magma from the walls. Pillars cracked and fell, plunging into the depths below. The air turned white-hot, and every lantern shattered in a rain of glass.
When the energies collapsed, the two figures still stood—steam pouring off them in thick, choking plumes.
The green corruption had now spread across Zhou Rui's shoulder and down his chest. The claws on his right foot dug deep grooves wherever he stepped. The Guardian Blade pulsed in his grip, no longer merely a weapon but an extension of the will that was consuming him.
They closed the distance again without hesitation. Their swords met in a blistering exchange—strike and counterstrike measured in heartbeats. Sparks and chunks of molten stone flew with every collision, scarring the floor and walls with evidence of their ferocity.
Each slash and thrust demanded more mana than the last. Zhou Rui's breath came ragged, every inhalation tasting of blood and ash. The Tyrant's molten form had grown less stable, rivulets of lava dripping from fractures that webbed its surface.
Still, neither yielded.
Zhou Rui swept his blade into a rising cut that forced the Tyrant's sword high. He pivoted and drove a clawed foot into its chest, the impact thunderous. The Magma Tyrant stumbled back, heat gouting from the wound.
The dark green gradient climbed past Zhou Rui's jaw, spreading along his cheek toward his eye. He moved without hesitation, following the Tyrant before it could fully recover.
Their weapons met again—steel and magma, emerald and fire—each collision echoing like the heartbeat of the dungeon itself.
And still, the battle raged.