Chapter 20: Taste the Fury of My Crimson Flame Piercing Your Mind and Soul!

Bang!
Boom!
A tremendous noise echoed throughout the underground chamber.

Two slender figures danced around a massive dark silhouette, exchanging punches and kicks. Each clash shattered the ground beneath them, twisted steel, tore through alloys, and even withstood a hailstorm of bullets.

The enormous shadow was none other than the Tyrant.

The two smaller figures were Zheng Zha and Mou Gang.

The enhancement attribute lasted for an hour, doubling the combat power of these two fighters, barely enough for them to trade blows with the Tyrant.

Among them, Zheng Zha appeared the worst off—his body was like fragile porcelain on the verge of shattering, riddled with countless cracks. Blood had clotted into scabs, and only the vitality of his cells kept him standing.

Mou Gang fared somewhat better.

His muscle tissue was six times stronger than that of an average person. A faint inner energy—his qi—coursed through his body, bolstering his physical resilience.

If Zheng Zha was porcelain, then Mou Gang was aluminum: capable of being dented and deformed, but not shattered or broken apart.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Zheng Zha staggered back several steps, covering his mouth as he coughed up blood foam.

"Is this thing's strength a little over the top?"

Without a mage’s armor, they dared not imagine how they were still alive. Under the Tyrant’s crushing blows, they must have already been reduced to a pulp.

Mou Gang said nothing.

He was straightforward and honest. Though he had not shattered his mental limits like Zheng Zha in the Laser Passage ordeal, he had endured profound terror and unveiled a layer of gray mist over his spirit.

That faint qi in his body gave him confidence, digging through the frozen reality that weighed heavily atop his scorching childhood memories.

Inhale—

Exhale—

With each breath, Mou Gang’s lung capacity surged beyond its previous peak into a new realm. His entire being felt clear and invigorated, every limb and bone filled with a subtle fullness.

"Heh!"

Exhaling sharply, Mou Gang took a step forward, channeling all his inner energy into his right fist, which he clenched tightly.

The closest he’d come to fighting in his life was a street brawl, and the nearest he’d encountered kung fu was military boxing. His fantasies of martial arts and the chivalrous world came solely from the era’s wildly popular wuxia dramas and action films.

So…

Power Step Punch!

A classic, straightforward strike from the Shao Film studio—unyielding and precise, without concern for formality or practicality.

As long as it hit, that was all that mattered!

Crack—

The sound of bone snapping rang out.

Not only did Mou Gang’s arm bones fracture, but so did the Tyrant’s clawed arm.

This punch, nearly nine times the strength of an ordinary human, focused into a single point to shatter the Tyrant’s arm—an astonishing testament to the Tyrant’s formidable physique.

The enhanced gene was effective, but without unlocking the genetic lock, counterattacks were nearly impossible.

Breaking an arm was already a significant achievement.

Roar!

The Tyrant bellowed, swinging his other arm like swatting a fly, sending Mou Gang flying and crashing to the ground, coughing up blood.

“Damn it! Son of a—!”

Zheng Zha cursed loudly and surged forward.

The Tyrant’s eyes were devoid of any emotion, regarding Zheng Zha as nothing more than a bothersome fly. He raised his fist; the air thickened and clung like viscous glue. The punch tore Zheng Zha’s clothes to shreds, leaving him bare-chested and riddled with countless wounds.

Ignoring it all, Zheng Zha clawed at the Tyrant’s fist with both hands, taking the full force of the blow. His mage armor shattered; ribs cracked and punctured his internal organs. Yet, he did not retreat, standing firm.

“Ahhhhh!”

His eyes turned blood-red, his two lower canines sharpening into fine points.

Uncontrolled vampiric energy surged through his mind, coursing along a predetermined path, erupting into a fierce blaze beneath his skin, igniting him like a crimson torch.

Blood Flame!

This was a vampire spell he had redeemed through a C-tier side quest, though he had never mastered it properly. Any lapse would burn through his vampiric energy in seconds, limiting its duration.

This was his trump card.

And now, in the heat of rage, Zheng Zha’s mind was unusually calm.

He contained the red flame, shrinking it from a blaze engulfing his entire body to a fiery orb between his palms, reminiscent of Kyo Kusanagi igniting flames in The King of Fighters.

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!

The Tyrant’s flesh and blood corroded and burned beneath the Blood Flame. Within moments, the entire palm was reduced to bare bone, causing Zheng Zha to lose his grip and fall away.

“Is Blood Flame really this powerful?”

In the distance, Qian Gu, who was recovering his draconic power, witnessed the scene and his heart skipped a beat.

It was well known that between Zheng Zha and Fu Zha, one would master the Primal Darkness, the other the Primordial Wilds—though both might wield the same path. They were destined to inherit one of these two great arts.

Qian Gu sensed that Zheng Zha was now more likely to walk the path of Primal Darkness.

After all, the easiest way to awaken the Primordial Wilds and create a new world—through the collision of positive and negative energies—had been corrected by Qian Gu.

Given Zheng Zha’s naturally sharp talents, Primal Darkness was indeed the simpler path.

With a stomp, the alloy floor beneath Zheng Zha shattered into fragments. Using the recoil, he charged forward like a cannonball. Passing over the Tyrant’s head, he reached out and clasped the two palms, now ablaze with Blood Flame.

He twisted and exploded.

The Blood Flame surged upward in a fiery pillar, engulfing the Tyrant’s brain. The crackling sounds of burning echoed nonstop.

[Slayed Combat-Type Tyrant, Reward Points: 1000]

Judging by the points alone, the Tyrant’s terror was tenfold that of a Crawler.

Under Zheng Zha’s flaming assault, flesh and bone burned away, leaving the massive body collapsed on the ground, motionless.

“Pure hand-to-hand combat power—the Combat-Type Tyrant is stronger, but less troublesome than the Penetration-Type…”

Qian Gu mulled this over.

The Tyrant had two models: Combat-Type and Penetration-Type.

They currently faced the Combat-Type, renowned for its formidable strength and a claw capable of tearing through alloys. The Penetration-Type, by contrast, lacked such brute force and seemed less dangerous.

But in reality, that was not the case.

The Penetration-Type retained both hands and wielded firearms, boasting greater overall lethality and complexity.

“Qian Gu, hurry! Hurry!”

Zheng Zha grabbed Mou Gang with one hand and clutched a bundle of torn cloth with the other, rushing to Qian Gu’s side.

“Uh…”

Qian Gu’s mouth twitched as he reached out and touched the cloth. His lips moved slightly, and the torn fabric in Zheng Zha’s hands began to mend, eventually restoring his shredded protective suit.

Repair Spell!

A zero-ring trick that consumed little energy but was remarkably effective.