Zhou Rui was breathing heavily. His entire body was sheathed in that dark green gradient layer—his hands twisted into claws, his feet transformed into the bestial shape of a Cerberus. His hair had grown long, a lime gradient flowing over his shoulders like a mane. But there was one thing that had changed: his face.
It no longer resembled the monstrous Cerberus at all. It was his own face again—pale and taut over sharp cheekbones. Two vivid green lines ran from his chest up through his neck, crossing over his eyes and disappearing into his hair. Those eyes glowed, a gradient of green into bright lime, glinting with clarity and something more primal.
"Airu, sorry for the delay. I'm back," he rasped, every breath ragged but strong.
Julius's expression split into a fierce, relieved grin.
"Finally, finally you've grasped it, Zhou Rui."
"Yeah."
Zhou Rui lifted his right hand. Far away across the scorched stone, the Guardian Blade shivered in the rubble, then tore itself free. It soared through the air with a resonant hum, smacking into his palm like it had never left him.
In the same instant, he vanished.
The air cracked behind him as he dashed forward, faster than he had ever moved before. In the blink of an eye, he struck—a cross-shaped slash, horizontal and vertical at once, so fast the Magma Tyrant barely had time to react.
For a moment, its massive form split apart, magma spilling out in bright rivers. But before the molten fragments even touched the ground, the Tyrant's body was already regenerating, knitting itself back together in defiance of death.
Julius shook his head, sweat and blood dripping down his jaw.
"There's no point. He just keeps regenerating."
Zhou Rui planted his blade, staring into the Tyrant's flickering ember eyes.
"But I think you've figured out how to beat it, haven't you, Airu?"
Julius's smirk was grim and triumphant all at once.
"Yeah. But I need your help to keep it busy."
"Leave it to me."
Zhou Rui lunged again, a blur of motion that clashed against the colossal figure. The chamber rang with the thunder of their strikes. Metal slammed into molten stone, claws into armor, each impact shaking the ground. They were equals in power, equals in defense—but in speed, Zhou Rui was untouchable. He danced around the Tyrant, cutting deep gouges into its regenerating hide, always staying just ahead of the sweeping blade.
Meanwhile, Julius turned, his staff already glowing.
"Saya, Serena—the throne! We've got to destroy it!"
All three of them sprinted toward the center of the chamber, where the massive throne loomed, carved of fused magma and obsidian. The ancient runes etched across its face pulsed in time with the Tyrant's heartbeat, alive with the same unholy power.
As they drew closer, the Magma Tyrant's voice boomed behind them, deeper and more furious than ever.
"Very well."
Its aura flared in a searing wave. With a roar, it hurled Zhou Rui away like a ragdoll. He crashed into the gate across the hall, the impact cracking the black stone.
The Tyrant planted its sword point into the ground, molten channels spiderwebbing out from the impact. It began to chant in a guttural language older than the mountain itself. The floor trembled as cracks widened.
"Come and aid your king—magma."
At those words, the cracks exploded outward.
One after another, hulking forms pulled themselves free of the lava-choked fissures—magma golems, each twice the height of a man, their bodies rippling with liquid fire and black stone. They ringed the throne in a silent phalanx, their chests glowing with the same runes.
They locked their molten gazes on Julius, Saya, and Serena—unyielding guardians risen to protect the seat of the Tyrant's power.
The heat climbed higher still, oppressive and smothering. The chamber seemed to shrink around them, as though the mountain itself were holding its breath before the final clash.
Zhou Rui shifted his grip on the Guardian Blade, sliding his palm from the edge of the handle to its core. His claws clenched around the hilt, steam rising off the blackened steel.
"If you really want a battle… I'll give it to you."
With that, he vanished into the heat-hazed air.
The Magma Tyrant barely had time to react. Zhou Rui's slash came from the left—then right—then overhead, a blur of green afterimages and cutting wind. Each strike landed with force enough to crack obsidian, but the Tyrant's magma-forged sword blocked them, its sheer mass creating shockwaves that tore into the chamber walls.
Zhou Rui's Cerebrus form burned through his stamina. The dark green gradient layer pulsated with power, his muscles taut and eyes glowing lime. He twisted and adapted, his speed growing faster with every counter from the Tyrant. His strikes became sharper, his defenses more precise. But every movement drained mana, and his breaths grew heavier.
The Magma Tyrant, in contrast, only grew stronger. The longer the battle raged, the more its molten veins glowed. Its attacks turned brutal—overhead cleaves that shattered stone, fire slashes that seared the air, and now, flaming tornadoes summoned with a single upward swing. Each tornado spiraled toward Zhou Rui, carving trenches in the earth.
One of them clipped his side, sending him flying through a broken pillar. Blood trailed behind him, but he flipped midair, slammed his feet to the ground, and dashed again. Green wind erupted from his blade, slicing through the firestorm. It cleaved the nearest tornado in half, dispersing it into embers.
But then the Tyrant slammed its blade into the earth.
A tremor surged across the arena floor. Magma veins burst open and from them rose seven towering magma golems, each crackling with internal fire. They stomped toward the throne, forming a wall of defense.
On the opposite end, Julius, Saya, and Serena moved fast.
Julius extended his staff.
"Wind Blade!"
A flurry of crescent-shaped wind slashes flew outward, slicing into two golems. Their bodies cracked and scattered—but within seconds, the molten pieces rolled back, reshaping into form.
Saya charged into the fray, black katana absorbing the fireballs mid-air, white katana unleashing the redirected flames back at them with blinding velocity. But the golems endured, their magma cores resisting even her redirected fury.
Serena stayed back, precise and deadly.
"Water Arrow!"
She loosed a shot that exploded against a golem's torso, melting half its body—but again, it regenerated.
"Ice Arrow!"
The second shot froze one in place. Saya used the opportunity to sever its limbs. Still, fragments pulsed and reformed.
They fought as one: Julius creating shields and cutting winds, Saya unleashing chained strikes through absorbed fire, and Serena rotating elements tactically. But the golems kept returning—burning, breaking, rebuilding.
In the heart of the chaos, Zhou Rui clashed again with the Tyrant.
Their swords met in an explosive impact—lava and green wind spiraling together in a burst of light. Zhou Rui's claws dug into the Tyrant's shoulders, forcing it back. But the Tyrant swung upward, launching Zhou Rui skyward with a fire blast.
As Zhou Rui crashed down, the golems converged behind him, but Julius had broken through their line.
He stood now at the throne, staff in hand, breath ragged, face bloodied.
The throne pulsed with power.
Saya and Serena were still locked in combat. The golems—unstoppable, eternal—stood between them and victory.
And behind it all, Zhou Rui and the Magma Tyrant still raged—two forces refusing to fall.