Lyn shot forward at incredible speed, a crimson afterimage vanishing in an instant. As he activated the Bloodrage Technique, his body surged with unfathomable power.

Even without close combat training, Lyn’s raw strength alone could rival any average Fourth Rank rune-wielding fighter. This was the change from devouring the Ancient Blood!

His transformed bloodline was so overwhelming that its secret arts reached transcendent levels.

Dozens of meters shrank to nothing. Lyn closed the distance to twelve-year-old Beryl in a flash. The golden-haired girl had just lifted her head. Her crimson eyes held icy calm, locking onto his high-speed approach without a flicker of panic.

Lyn didn’t mind her composure. He’d watched Beryl grow up and knew her power well—her calm wasn’t arrogance.

Once within range, Lyn threw a ruthless punch straight at her delicate face. Even with his transformed bloodline, memories of her slender feet trampling him countless times made him hold back nothing.

After all, this seemingly harmless girl had "killed" him dozens of times here. Holding back would be incurable stupidity.

Of course, this battlefield was just a mental projection. Death here only weakened his spirit temporarily.

After that punch landed, Lyn’s confidence surged. In past attempts, merely closing in on Beryl cost him dearly. Even at Third Rank together, his bloodline had been too suppressed—the Bloodrage Technique couldn’t achieve this enhancement.

But this time, a single dash brought him close. Proof his strength had leaped tiers.

The strike was fierce, not matching Xing Luo’s power but still formidable. It slammed into something—then its raging force dissipated.

Before Beryl, a crimson film surged. Lyn’s punch dented it deeply, splashing backward like spikes. In an instant, it reshaped into a round shield.

Blood Manipulation Art: Abyss!!!

This was his sister’s awakened bloodline ability. Unlike Lyn’s Bloodrage Technique evolution, Beryl’s mutation centered on Blood Manipulation Art.

And on her first awakening, she already possessed a mutated blood core!

With it, Beryl could mobilize blood instantly—no need to bleed or touch blood like novice users.

Her Blood Manipulation Art was pure lethality.

The blood shield blocked Lyn’s punch, then morphed into a massive crimson fist slamming toward him.

Its ferocity matched Lyn at full Bloodrage power.

Lyn anticipated it. He met the fist with his own, shattering crimson sand underfoot. But rune light flared in Beryl’s hands simultaneously.

Her blood arts didn’t hinder magic. As a true genius, her Third Rank rune mastery was terrifying.

Sand beneath Lyn collapsed like quicksand. Yet he grinned slightly—golden light ignited in his dark crimson pupils!

"Boom!"

He stomped hard. The rune-controlled sand shattered as if its magic unraveled. Crimson liquid exploded into mist. Lyn’s strength surged again, crushing the blood fist effortlessly.

Beryl retreated expressionlessly. The crimson mist re-coalesced with a flick of her hand. As Lyn charged, blood blobs wrapped around him, entangling his body.

He kept closing in—but before grabbing Beryl, he was fully encased in a giant blood cocoon. His body locked tight, ready for Blood Manipulation torment.

In past fights, this secret art had felled him multiple times.

As the cocoon trembled for the final execution, crimson liquid erupted. From inside, a claw—covered in golden dragon scales—shot out, tearing through the defense.

It seized Beryl’s tender neck, lifting her into the air.

The blood cocoon around Lyn burst into mist, revealing his battered form. Half-corroded robes clung to gruesome wounds. Dragon scales covered half his arm, sealing his victory.

Bloodrage Technique: Dragonization!

This power came from devouring Xing Luo’s bloodline—the Bloodrage Technique’s devouring trait. Even disrupting that rune technique earlier was part of Dragonization.

But he’d only recently mastered it. The form couldn’t last.

Victory was his. Yet staring at the golden-haired girl he held by the neck, at her familiar face, Lyn’s gaze flickered. Delivering the killing blow felt impossible.

Just as he recalled his original plan—to pin twelve-year-old Beryl over his knee and spank her hard—a grand voice echoed:

"Battle victory. Third Tier Demon King Trial complete."

A system notification. Lyn’s expression darkened.

"Damn it... wait..."

His revenge wasn’t done. Even if this sister was fake...

His plea went unanswered. The circular arena—and the girl in his grip—dissolved into crimson sand before his eyes.

"Please receive the trial reward."

After the final words, an irresistible force kicked Lyn back to his original space.

...