The memorial hall was engulfed in flames, and everyone was scrambling to escape. Yet, Yang Jie rushed straight toward Nangong Xuan’s corpse—only to be blocked by a towering figure.
“Why bother with a dead body? Consider this a free cremation,” the white man sneered, barring Yang Jie’s path.
With just one strike, Yang Jie was sent flying, his clothes scorched and tattered. His vine-based abilities were utterly countered by the man’s flames, and their physical strength wasn’t even on the same level. There was no contest—because his opponent was an A-rank.
“Commander Yang!” Su Mo and Shen Hong caught him from either side.
No one had expected Elder Han’s trump card to be a foreign powerhouse. This was no longer just an internal conflict.
In the hearts of nearly all Xia Kingdom’s people, one principle was absolute: Those who collude with external enemies deserve death.
“Arrest these traitors!” Elder Han barked. A flood of superhumans surged forward to suppress Su Mo and his allies. Some even defected mid-battle, joining the Elder Council’s side.
Yang Jie alone could have handled them, but the arrival of the A-rank foreigner instantly turned the tide.
“Mr. Smith, the murderer who killed your son, Jack Smith, is her—Ye Qingyi!” Elder Han pointed at Su Mo, shouting at the white man descending from above. “And those with her are her master and friends. Who’s to say they weren’t accomplices?”
Smith’s sparse eyebrows furrowed tightly. In a flash, he lunged at Su Mo, palm aimed at his forehead. Shen Hong and Yang Jie moved simultaneously to block the strike—only to realize it was a feint. Smith’s real target was the commanders behind them.
These commanders were the backbone of the Beidou Organization. Killing them would be like severing Beidou’s limbs. While avenging his son, Smith also sought to cripple Beidou’s foundation.
Yang Jie couldn’t stand by and watch. With a furious roar, his body erupted in a white mist—the very same Beidou secret technique Su Mo had once seen Old Han use: Soul Burn!
Who would’ve thought he’d encounter it again on his second trip to the capital?
“Don’t forget—this is the Xia Kingdom!” Yang Jie bellowed, barely managing to block the attack despite his skin charring under the flames. His momentum didn’t waver. “Tortoise Shell Technique! Now—Four Spirits Sword Array!”
He crushed four high-grade spirit stones without hesitation, activating the inscribed formation instantly. A massive sword of condensed spiritual energy howled toward Smith.
Though it still couldn’t wound him, it forced Smith to expend considerable effort to defend.
Initially consumed by hatred, Smith’s expression shifted to admiration after witnessing Yang Jie’s technique. “The Xia Kingdom truly lives up to its reputation as a land of ancient superhumans. Your formations are marvels—I’m genuinely impressed. A shame we must remain enemies.”
“Not necessarily,” Yang Jie retorted, knowing a direct fight was hopeless. “Perhaps we can turn hostility into friendship?”
Smith halted his assault, coldly replying, “Perhaps. But I’ll be taking her with me.” His finger pointed at Su Mo.
By now, Su Mo understood—this man was the father of Jack Smith, the white mage he had killed. He had come for vengeance.
“Fine!” Su Mo said without hesitation. “As long as you spare them, I’ll go with you.”
“You’re in no position to negotiate,” Smith sneered. “I’ve changed my terms. All of you will die—to accompany my son in death.”
His body transformed into a blazing sun, summoning endless fireballs that rained from the sky like the apocalypse.
The devastation wasn’t limited to superhumans—countless innocent civilians perished in the inferno.
For the first time, Su Mo felt utterly powerless. He didn’t even have a chance to strike. Never before had his hunger for strength burned so fiercely.
“Sister Hong, do you have a plan?”
Shen Hong shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s too strong. Without an A-rank, no one can stop him.”
It was true. The Xia Kingdom’s only A-rank was already dead—currently being “cremated” in the flames.
Yang Jie was sent flying again and again by Smith, on the verge of collapse. No one could intervene in their battle.
Just as Su Mo was seething, Elder Han chose that moment to strike. A C-rank, just one step from B-rank, he was the perfect outlet for Su Mo’s rage.
“You damn traitor—you deserve to die!” Su Mo roared.
His Rust-Scarred Blade slashed across Elder Han’s right shoulder, sending a spray of blood into the air.
“Ahh!” Elder Han screamed, shocked that he couldn’t even withstand a single strike from a D-rank girl.
Su Mo didn’t linger. After the hit, he immediately fled, shouting at Smith, “I’m the one who killed your son! Come at me if you dare!”
Enraged, Smith abandoned Yang Jie and gave chase.
An A-rank’s speed was terrifying—within moments, he caught up to Su Mo in a deserted square.
Temperatures soared to hundreds of degrees, surrounding Su Mo. If not for his Yin Fire protection, his body would have melted instantly.
“Rage Mantra!” Su Mo’s eyes burned crimson as he suddenly turned and charged at Smith.
Underestimating the weak-looking boy, Smith reached out to grab him—only for Su Mo to slam into him bodily.
Crack!
Su Mo’s left forearm twisted grotesquely, but an overwhelming surge of pure fire energy from Smith’s body flooded into him through that arm.
The violent flames ravaged Su Mo’s body, but the Yin Fire refined and devoured them, converting the energy.
The cyan pill hovering above his Qi Sea nearly exploded from the influx. Dark blue flames spread across the sky of his inner world, condensing into a second Qi Sea—an inverted mirror of the first, composed entirely of Yin Fire.
The sheer volume and purity of the energy forced the second Qi Sea to solidify from gaseous to liquid form. The excess spilled into the first Qi Sea, liquefying over 90% of its spiritual energy.
A blessing in disguise.
But fortune and misfortune were intertwined. His body swelled grotesquely from the excess energy, on the verge of bursting.
Smith, meanwhile, was stunned. “What kind of demonic art is this? Why is it draining my fire energy?” He looked as if his entire worldview had been upended.
Su Mo wasn’t faring well either. Gritting his teeth against the agonizing pressure, he unleashed a Mountain-Sea Fist, intending to return the excess energy to Smith.
But the technique had other plans—it drained Su Mo completely.
BOOM!
Su Mo was sent flying, caught by Shen Hong, who staggered back several steps before steadying herself.
Smith, an A-rank, was actually injured by the blow. He retreated three steps, wiping blood from his lips. His hatred faded slightly, replaced by reluctant admiration.