The spiraling blade vanished the instant it was launched. Elder Muhong’s pupils contracted sharply. His arm shot out, clawing at his own chest and yanking hard—a surge of power forced his body to shift just slightly.
At that exact moment, a spiraling blade wreathed in flames and violent spatial ripples materialized before his left chest. It shattered half his body.
Elder Muhong’s HP bar plummeted by nearly two-thirds.
Black blood spewed from his mouth. The storm raging around him weakened visibly. His face twisted in fury. Though he felt no pain, such a wound meant survival would cost him decades of recovery—if he lived at all.
Gritting his half-shattered teeth, he waved a hand. Black smoke surged, patching the missing half of his body.
“Damn it! How?! You’re just a kid! I’ve lived over a century—how could I die to a brat like you?! I refuse! Storm, take my body! Kill this child!!”
Blood streaked his contorted face. True to his roar, the storm began devouring what remained of his life.
His HP bar locked at 10.
All debuffs vanished, replaced by a new status panel:
[**Final Storm**]: His human body, remade into a monster, now channels the full power of the [Storm] ability. HP forcibly set to 10. Each hit reduces HP by 1. Vanishes at 0.
Honestly? Pathetic.
No wonder he’d never used this move in his past life—ten hits. Any group of a hundred players could shred him.
But against Zhang Luan alone? His jealousy and rage made him discard his irreparable life, letting his ability fight for him.
A last-resort move, almost like self-destruction. Pity it was useless.
The storm needed time to fully seize his body. Zhang Luan’s own mana had also drained to critical levels after his attack—but that was all part of his plan.
He yanked Nan Fenghua, who’d been standing dazed nearby, close. Peering through the pot on her head, he asked:
“You can recharge mana, right?”
Exactly. This silly girl was basically a human battery. In his past life, Akamana Blessers could restore allies’ mana. As their Holy Maiden—a genius mastering every Akamana blessing—she *had* to know how.
At “recharge mana,” Nan Fenghua’s mind flooded with images of their bodies pressed together. Before her imagination could wander further, Zhang Luan pinched her cheek, exasperated.
“Seriously. You *can’t*?”
“I-I can do it!” she squeaked, rubbing her stinging cheek. Blushing, she squeezed her eyes shut and began praying. But she peeked open one eye almost immediately, murmuring shyly:
“Um… just let me recall the blessing words…”
Zhang Luan fought the urge to punch her. His smile twitched.
“Shouldn’t this be automatic? You didn’t hesitate when blessing me earlier. Playing games with me?”
Nan Fenghua waved her hands frantically. “N-no! I just learned it casually, so I forgot the words! Ah—I remember now!”
As her melodic prayer enveloped him, his empty mana bar began refilling.
In this world, magic power, qi, and ability energy weren’t strictly separated. Most lumped ability energy with magic under “mana”—after all, mana restoration methods worked for both. The distinction existed only because powerful ability users refused to be associated with mages, inventing the split themselves.
Admittedly, this fueled conflict between magic and ability academies. Without it, their advanced curricula would’ve just taught how utterly useless the other side was.
Which was precisely why Akamana City made the best starter town: no faction discrimination here.
When his mana bar had barely refilled a third, the storm fully consumed Elder Muhong’s body. His eyes turned hollow, his form deflated like an empty balloon. Black smoke coalesced under the storm’s command, hurling globs of dark tempest toward them.
Zhang Luan smacked his lips, pulling Nan Fenghua—who was still praying—aside with a leap.
Dodging the black orbs, he saw her flush deepen as she stopped chanting. He tapped the pot on her head.
“Don’t stop. Keep going.”
“Ow… that hurt…” she whimpered, biting her lip before resuming her prayer. But Zhang Luan’s face kept flashing in her mind. Pink sparkles danced in her eyes; the air itself seemed tinted rose.
If her status panel were visible now, the [Ego] talent would be flashing wildly.
Zhang Luan noticed only his mana surging unnaturally fast. *Must be some hidden ability she hasn’t unlocked yet,* he mused inwardly. *Silly now, but no wonder she becomes a major villain later. Her mana recovery is several times faster than others.*
Storm-possessed Elder Muhong attacked again. This time, Zhang Luan merely flicked his wrist. A wall of Stellar Flame erupted before him, blocking every storm orb. His mana bar was nearly full. Time to end this.
He nocked his last dozen arrows, coating them in Force of Creation. Drawing his bow toward the sky—
[**Multishot: Starfall Arrows**]
The mediocre skill activated again. But unlike against goblins, the spatial-locking power of Force of Creation transformed it from useless to lethal.
The first arrow pierced his body. Then the second. Third. Fourth…
Every arrow struck the exact same spot. The storm tried to dodge—but how could it evade space itself?
On the tenth hit, the hollowed-out corpse collapsed. A system prompt echoed in Zhang Luan’s mind:
[**Defeated Mighty Roar Cathedral Elder**]: Reward: Advanced Skill Tome [Storm], Ability Stone [Scorching Black Smoke], Rare Equipment Mystery Chest ×1, Metamorph Crystal ×1.
Zhang Luan’s gaze lingered on the Metamorph Crystal. The other rewards were valuable, but this… this was truly precious.
[**Metamorph Crystal**]: Use to transform into a modified race. Implant foreign organs within the body to gain special abilities.
In his past life, these sparked frenzied bidding wars. Gaining powers by grafting organs was undeniably strong.
The cost? Ugliness. And losing one’s humanity. After the world’s fusion, modified races faced brutal discrimination from ordinary humans.
He’d ignored them last life, disgusted by the grotesque transformations. He certainly wouldn’t use one now.
But some… wouldn’t care about such things.
