The wind blade struck the violet-gold shield, which remained untouched—yet the very blade capable of shattering a sovereign artifact dissolved the next instant, expanding into a hurricane that swept across the entire arena. The hurricane’s fury left no room for the wind mage to even regain his airflow and replenish his blade. For a moment, the eighth-level wind mage stood frozen, unable to comprehend how the wind blade he had coalesced using the "Crown of the Wind King" had collapsed so dramatically. Wind blades were his primary offensive capability, and one of the Crown of the Wind King’s most essential functions was precisely "blade enhancement," enabling him to forge an exceptionally powerful, piercing blade. In past battles, such colossal wind blades had defeated numerous foes, even standing against knights’ "Wall of Protection." The eleven sovereigns, once lofty and distant, now turned their attention to the violet-gold shield in Ju Meng’s hands—some in astonishment, others in eager anticipation. Even Winny and Chris were equally stunned. Could Ju Meng possess a sovereign artifact in his hands? How many sovereign artifacts did he actually have? After all, he was merely a Saint. Fu Qingyang truly is that generous, giving him so many master-quality items? "Plan unchanged!" Fu Qingyang's deep voice resonated clearly among the group. "At all costs, we must eliminate the wind mages. We need to reduce the enemy's strength—otherwise, we may not survive until the headmaster's reinforcements arrive." Even in their initial engagement, he had abandoned the idea of holding a defensive stance. The reason was simple: the enemy had twelve master-level mages. Excluding the one with relatively weak attack power, Desire, and the one who sacrifices heavily in battle—Night Eternal—there remained ten. Among them, two were at the peak of their abilities. If they chose defense, their own forces would become easy targets. With ten master-level mages attacking in unison, the combined strength would be overwhelming—impossible to withstand. A single gust of fury had already rendered his defensive items useless. Only by reducing the enemy's numbers could their own forces stand a chance. The Palace Master's resurrection and healing abilities would enhance the team's resilience, while Panxi Edison's abundance of items would strengthen the team's overall foundation. Then, the several masters present were not defensive in nature—especially King Mago, whose strength lay in combat. A passive defensive stance seemed to render a powerful ally ineffective. Kris remained silent, having clearly grasped the reality: standing still in defense was not a wise choice. Yet she harbored a pessimistic outlook on offense as well. The wind mage was inherently swift, and with the drunkard mage stationed firmly, he could not reach either the Fury of the Wind or the Fiery Angel. The thunder mage possessed the life-saving skill of "electrifying." Even more astonishing was that neither the King with the Divine Eye nor the Master of the Palace of Stillness expressed any opposition—no opposition at all... As the group conversed, two of the "giant monsters," led by Stephen Simpson, suddenly expanded dramatically, tearing their garments as their pupils straightened into vivid red, their sclera turning black. Deep purple scales erupted across their exposed skin, their legs transformed into robust, reptilian limbs, and sharp claws grew on their hands. In an instant, the three giant beings had become Western dragons, each bearing two membranous wings that curled with trails of toxic smoke. The deep purple scales were etched with intricate, twisting, mysterious symbols, forming a perfect, natural array. Corrosive droplets dripped from their interlocking teeth, while plumes of purple mist rose from their nostrils. The Hell Dragon, Colchis! One of the Ten Magi. Colchis's power is toxic mist. In the canonical texts of the Biological Alchemy Society, the hell dragon is the most powerful ally of the deities in cleansing the mortal realm—its body harbors an endless stream of toxic mist, constantly belching it into the sky. The texts describe a scene in which purple clouds obscure the blue heavens, and the deities pour down world-ending rains. Three hell dragons unfurl their membranous wings and crouch upon the stands, their immense bodies sweeping over and overturning tables and chairs around them. They lower their heads and exhale thick, viscous plumes of toxic mist toward the center of the arena. With the peak sovereign and two sovereigns of the eighth rank, the intensity of the mist is sufficient to kill any sovereign below the ninth rank. In an instant, the mist surges like a tide. The Sovereign of the Divine Eyes exhales, smiles, and says, "Exactly as I've envisioned!" Then he inflates his abdomen, draws in a deep breath, and forcefully expels a dense gray-white fog. The fog spreads swiftly, intertwining with the toxic mist and flowing toward the stands, swiftly covering the entire arena. "Wheeeewww..." A fierce wind howled, gusts of hurricane rising and drawing the thick mist and toxic smoke into the sky. The two Wind Mage Sovereigns had launched their attack. They didn't know whether the toxic smoke from the giant beast could kill the Lawful Sovereigns, but if the Mist Sovereign's dense fog completely enveloped the battlefield, at least one of their eight-tier Sovereigns would surely return to the spiritual realm. As fellow members of the Chaotic faction, they well understood how terrifying the ancient war god was within the fog—capable of instant teleportation, immune to physical attacks through fog-softening effects, and possessing exceptional physical combat prowess and an unusually powerful, enigmatic gaze. Should the fog spread, the Sovereign of the Gaze could easily defeat any of their eight-tier Sovereigns. The Sovereign of the Gaze scoffed, his gaze fixed upon the lofty Sovereigns above. His intention in releasing the fog was to force the Wind Mages to blow away the toxic smoke; should the opposing Wind Mages remain resolute, he would have the First District Sovereigns witness firsthand the terrifying power of the ancient war god. "Boom! Boom! Boom!" Columns of lightning descended, striking the lawful faction. Winnie, as usual, raised both arms, acting as a lightning rod to absorb the divine thunder. Pansy Edison raised a cross-shaped shield to block the remaining two lightning columns, then swiftly drew out a pair of antlered bows and a copper plaque. He first tossed the plaque to the cowboy Locke, completing another trade to secure Locke's "distortion" ability. Then, he handed the bow to the King of the Divine Eyes: "Use this. The battle cost is fifty thousand federal credits. After the fight, if you're still alive, remember to return the equipment and pay the fee." The King of the Divine Eyes took the long bow and, upon close inspection, immediately broke into a smile. "Excellent bow!" He stepped forward with a bow stance, drawing the bow with great force, his fingertips spewing out mist of blood that coalesced into a crimson arrow. Thump-thump-thump—his stance moved with the speed of thunder, his form swift as a blur. Within two seconds, he drew the bow eleven times, continuously channeling his vital energy into forming arrows, which he launched toward the enemy's sovereign. Each arrow carries the vital essence and qi of an ancient war deity. He automatically overlooks Catherine, deeming it unnecessary to make an awkward attack against a profession with near-invulnerable self-defense, though relatively weak in offensive power. Two Chaos Sovereigns raise their hands, gently deflecting the twelve arrows, which alter their trajectories and perfectly miss their intended targets—yet the arrows seem imbued with a sense of spirit, turning around, spiraling back, and re-attacking. Each arrow bears the "mark" of the Enchanting Spirit, automatically seeking out its target; though not quite approaching the near-divine mastery of Fu Qingyang's technique, it is far from easily dismissed. Thump, thump, thump—The Mage-Eye Sovereign draws his bow continuously, sending a cascade of blood-red arrows soaring forth. The flowing blood-light rushes wildly across the arena. Seizing the brief gaps when the enemy Sovereigns are either dodging or parrying, Fu Qingyang dons his Swordsman's cloak, swallows a luminous orb that glimmers with starlight, and the very next moment, he dissolves into a cascade of starlight. A dreamlike radiance of starlight rises from beside the Hell Dragon of the "Whoosh~" The cloak billowed in the wind as Fu Qingyang drew out his bright jade dragon sword and delivered a routine slash at the dragon's neck. At that very instant, a cascade of powerful control effects—sensory disorientation, loss of directional awareness, and euphoria—overwhelmed Fu Qingyang. Stephen Simpson projected two beams of pale light directly at Fu Qingyang's face. A column of thunder descended, and gusts of wind blades surged toward him. The leaders of the evil faction simultaneously focused their attacks on Fu Qingyang. Pansy Edison instantly moved between the beams of pale light and Fu Qingyang, holding a small mirror that refracted the petrifying beams fired by the peak dominator. The sound of horse hooves approached steadily as Kris rode a steed formed from flowing water, arriving swiftly—so fast she seemed like a streak of lightning. Kris grasped the eyes-of-the-heaven king's shoulders and gave him a strong shake. As the eyes-of-the-heaven king spun mid-air, he revealed his tripartite, octo-armed form, standing firmly before the wind blades, his eight arms wielding swords, spears, halberds, and shields, successfully dispersing all the wind At the same time, the vertical eye on his forehead burst forth with golden-red beams, illuminating the two wind mages. Vinye Borlent transformed into a bright blue current, actively advancing toward the audience section, coalescing two lightning spears—one aimed at the hamburger and fries, the other piercing the federal detective. She would face off against two Level 8 lightning mages. With full power unleashed, it would not be difficult in the short term to hold her ground against two equally ranked and professionally matched masters; the challenge lay in retreating with composure before exhaustion set in, or else she would surely perish. The colossal body of the Hell Dragon convulsed violently, its limbs, body, and even its brain seemingly acting independently, each wanting to move in different directions. No escape was possible! The Jade Dragon's sword descended, flashing with light—slowly, the fierce, massive dragon's head settled to the ground, spewing out a gushing stream of fresh, crimson blood. The dragon's body did not collapse. From the severed neck, flesh and muscle quivered and rapidly grew two canine heads, while the rest of its form transformed into a dark, canine body. In an instant, the hellish dragon-mage transformed into Kerberos, the Infernal Dog—a member of the Ten Great Mage-Heirs. According to legend, Kerberos is a great guardian stationed at the gates of the divine realm. It has three heads, each head representing one life. Fu Qingyang seemed to have anticipated this development, calmly raising the Jade Dragon Sword. The hellish dragon was chilled, having truly grasped the terrifying power of Fu Qingyang's sword technique after experiencing the legendary skill that nearly reached the realm of Dao. As soon as Fu Qingyang raised the sword, he suddenly lost his sense of direction, inexplicably striking to the left. Far away, cowboy Locke had activated the "Confusion" skill that caused a loss of directional awareness. Although Locke's ability to "distort rules" had been continuously traded away by Edison, other skills remained intact—though he could no longer fire his gun. Fu Qingyang, an Eighth-Rank Yanshi with steel resolve, was not easily controlled by the Chaos Sovereign of the same rank; yet Locke managed to achieve a full 100% control over him. The Hell Dragon, seeing the situation, instantly expelled a stream of toxic smoke, enveloping Fu Qingyang. Then, from the two dog-headed figures with six eyes, beams of petrifying light shot forth and pierced through the dense mist. For the frail Yanshi, this combination of toxic smoke and petrifying beams proved fatal. At that moment, a brilliant little sun rose, casting a clear, bright golden light that illuminated the arena beneath the night sky like daylight. The exclusivity of the power of the Sun God made the present rulers feel particularly uneasy, with sharp discomfort and anxiety. Zhang Yuanqing, bearing the Golden Orpheus Seal suspended above his head, activated the artifact at the crucial moment. His body burned with golden flames, his skin flushed red, as if scorched by a hot iron. "Shhhhh..." The deep purple toxic smoke, under the golden sunlight, hissed like a boiling wok, rapidly evaporating and purifying, revealing Fu Qingyang, who had been enveloped in it. His clothes were torn and tattered, his exposed skin ulcerated and oozing pus, with one half of his body now glowing with a pale, stone-like sheen. In the pure, clear light, Fu Qingyang's body half-froze and peeled away, his Niujia Lock's "chaos" ability failing. With no buffs remaining, Fu immediately launched a strike, aiming to sever the Hell Dragon's second head. "Fu Qingyang!" A clear, authentic Mandarin voice rang out across the arena. At that moment, Fu's raised sword hand froze mid-motion. His body began to grow dark green and black scales, his hair fell out, replaced by hard horns; flesh bulged on his back and suddenly expanded into two damp, membranous wings. His pupils transformed into fierce, crimson vertical pupils, his rationality fading, replaced by wildness and coldness. In an instant, Fu had become a monster. The bright, clear sunlight from the Golden Orpheus Seal bathed him, restoring a touch of humanity to his blazing, frantic eyes—but not his human form. Could one name alone cause the leader to transform into a monster? Zhang Yuanqing stared in shock at the source of the voice, seeing a demon towering six meters high, humanoid in form, clad in armor resembling keratin. Delicate and slightly feminine in build, the keratin covering her face formed a magnificent mask, beneath which gleamed golden eyes of brilliant luminescence. The Deep-Water Nymph—Silkira! The corresponding title instantly came to Zhang Yuanqing's mind. Silkira was one of the Top Ten Magi, whose power was transformation. By calling out her name, the target undergoes transformation, including their spiritual realm ID; the transformation is even more potent if the true name is used. This Silkira had transformed from Stephen Simpson, possessing only peak Sovereign-level strength—only such strength could cause Fu Qingyang, with his steel resolve, to instantly transform. Without hesitation, Zhang Yuanqing activated the Incineration skill within the Golden Sun Seal, drawing all the sunlight into a concentrated beam. After a slight buildup, the Golden Sun Seal launched a brilliant, scorching beam of light. Each of the Top Ten Magi possessed unique abilities, and Silkira's defensive capabilities were notably weak. Silvia, rising three meters tall, swiftly transformed her form into a magnificent golden lion—about three meters long and one meter high, its body as if poured from pure gold. The lion opened its maw and roared, erecting a golden barrier before it that blocked the searing beams. "Give it to me..." Zhang Yuanqing, engaged in fierce combat with the golden lion, felt a sudden warmth in his ears, his body tingling and numb. Katherine's face paled, and she trembled, her voice breaking with emotion, "No—." Zhang Yuanqing again stumbled, and Katherine glared angrily at the Master of the Halt-Death Palace, then gracefully stepped back, unwilling to take further risks and waiting for the next opportunity. Seeing this, Zhang Yuanqing switched to the skill of the Golden Sun Seal, allowing a stream of purifying golden sunlight to spread across every corner of the arena. The Master of the Halt-Death Palace lifted her snow-white, elegant neck and emitted a high, melodious dolphin-like tone. The song flowed like a clear spring into a parched field, invigorating Fu Qingyang's spirit, while the bright, clear golden light swiftly restored his human form. Despite the physical injuries, Fu Qingyang pressed on, taking advantage of the purifying power that dissolved all strong control effects, and as his allies' masters risked their lives to block the enemy's advance, he stepped forward, channeling his sword energy and spiritual force into the Jade Dragon Sword, launching a single strike toward the retreating Hell Dragon. Since his promotion to Master, his strike range had expanded to fifty meters.