Episode 23: Fight Fire With Fire

  The Desert Near Area 51, Nevada

  Under the silver glow of the waxing moon, the desolate expanse just a few kilometers from the secret runways of Area 51 lay in an eerie, profound silence. Yet, beneath that stillness, the earth suddenly groaned—a deep, rhythmic vibration from colossal machinery hidden far below the surface.

  Rumble...

  The smooth desert floor abruptly cleaved open, forming a massive rectangular chasm. Countless tons of sand cascaded into the abyss like a shattered hourglass. Within that secret opening, there was only darkness; not a single light flickered to warn the world of its existence.

  Whir... whir... whir...

  Rhythmic pulses of displaced air thrummed through the night as a gargantuan object in Stealth Mode began its descent. Ben’s craft, tasked with hauling the Brama vessel, moved slowly into the hidden bay. Their forms were translucent and distorted, looking like a heat mirage shimmering in the moonlight. Both ships gradually vanished into the mysterious subterranean chamber before the massive hatch slid shut with seamless precision.

  Once the mechanism completed its cycle, the desert floor returned to its former stillness. The only remaining trace was the slight depression in the sand where the machinery had swallowed the dunes.

  Suddenly, a team of special operations officers, who had been concealed at various points around the perimeter, emerged from the shadows. They moved with practiced efficiency, utilizing specialized tools to rake and level the sand until it was flawlessly uniform—erasing the final smudge of the cosmic secret that had just been buried beneath the earth.

  Deep Subterranean Operations Center, Area 51

  The gargantuan horizontal elevator glided to a halt in the central subterranean hall, a chamber fortified with dense, reinforced steel structures. Lord Hoto and Ben stepped out into an atmosphere of rigid professionalism, where expert personnel carried out their duties with flawless military precision.

  The moment the transport craft’s cloaking system was deactivated, the true form of the cargo was unveiled to the world. Officers and staff in the vicinity froze in their tracks; many gasped, momentarily forgetting to breathe at the sight before them.

  It was an alien metallic vessel encased in "biological flesh," looking more like a living organism than a machine. However, its condition was pitiful; the flesh was torn in jagged gasps, with sections festering, blistered, and scorched with charred remains. A pungent, overpowering stench of advanced decomposition flooded the vast hall, forcing many officers to turn their faces away in disgust.

  Hoto and Ben remained indifferent to the foul odor. Both drifted closer to the decaying wreckage, their eyes burning with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Two pilots who had just disembarked hurried to salute and report for duty, but they were utterly ignored by the two deities. Only General Miller stepped forward to receive their report in their stead.

  While dozens of scientists and technicians were busily engaged with instruments to measure chemical levels and radiation around the festering Brama vessel, the voice of Lord Hoto thundered with a command so sharp and powerful it sent a jolt through everyone present.

  “Cease all examinations... all of you, withdraw immediately!”

  The personnel froze in an instant. They could feel the murderous aura radiating from Hoto, with Ben standing vigilantly by his side, his gaze narrowing with a pressuring intensity—as if ready to crush anyone who moved too slowly.

  “Miller... command your people to take their rest. They have been strained all day. I will handle the remainder myself,” Hoto transmitted a telepathic command directly into General Miller’s brain without uttering a single word.

  General Miller received the directive with a slight, involuntary tremor. He hurriedly signaled and barked orders to the hundreds of soldiers and staff stationed throughout the facility to abandon their tools and equipment exactly where they lay, with no time for cleanup. The staff were visibly bewildered by such an abrupt and irrational command, yet constrained by rigid discipline, they hastily retreated from the colossal subterranean hall.

  Within minutes, the sounds of footsteps and chatter faded away, leaving behind only high-tech equipment still humming softly as it ran unattended. A deathly, chilling silence blanketed the hall. Without the white noise of human activity, the stench of the decaying bio-vessel seemed to grow even more pungent.

  “Miller... as for you, stay here with me.”

  Hoto’s final order rooted General Miller to the spot. Standing isolated amidst the two Primordial deities and the secrets about to be unveiled, he began to feel that he was crossing a threshold into a realm from which no ordinary human could ever return.

  Suddenly, Lord Hoto reached out, his hand making light contact with the withered, decaying flesh of the bio-vessel. He began to channel a concentrated surge of pure energy into the craft’s neural network. As the power surged through, the massive hull of the ship convulsed, twitching as if responding to the arrival of a god. The once-shriveled capillaries began to flush with a faint, healthy crimson, regaining their vitality inch by inch.

  The spectacle was so wondrous that both Ben and General Miller watched in rapt fascination. Despite their efforts to remain stoic, they were deeply enthralled. When the vessel had been nourished to a certain threshold, Hoto’s form—once floating with regal grace—faltered, forcing him to plant his feet on the ground. Yet, he refused to break contact, continuing to pump energy until the skin across the entire hull looked visibly rejuvenated, even if the severe lacerations and dead tissues could not be healed instantaneously.

  “Open the floor power conduits... Miller!” Hoto commanded, his voice raspy from exhaustion.

  General Miller scrambled to obey, but a problem arose: he had never performed manual labor himself, having always commanded subordinates to do his bidding. He paced frantically, searching for a button or lever on the reinforced steel floor, sweat pouring down his face. In sheer desperation, he looked around for a sturdy iron bar, hoping to clumsily pry the hatch open.

  But before Miller could make a move, the heavy steel plating on the floor was blasted open by a colossal surge of air pressure! It was wrenched upward by Ben’s masterful telekinesis. The distorted, mangled plate whistled past Miller’s face, missing him by mere inches, before crashing into the distance with a deafening roar.

  Miller stood there, pale and shaken, his heart sinking into his boots. Meanwhile, Ben allowed a derisive smirk to touch his lips—a victor’s smile, watching a man with immense military authority reduced to a mere jester in the presence of Lord Ben’s power.

  The moment the power conduits were exposed, the withered skin of the bio-vessel responded with startling speed. Thousands of microscopic black filaments, resembling obsidian tentacles, erupted from beneath the dermis. They swayed, hungrily searching for an energy source, before plunging with unerring precision into the electrical ports Ben had wrenched open.

  As a massive surge of electricity was devoured by the hull, the internal systems flickered back to life. Indicator lights across the vessel’s body began to blink rapidly, as if in a state of frantic excitement. Beneath the regenerated flesh, the underlying metallic skeleton sparked and crackled, the sound echoing throughout the colossal hall.

  Shortly after, a sight even more astounding unfolded. Fine black dust—an army of Nanobots—spewed forth from numerous pores across the ship’s surface. They coalesced into soot-colored clouds that drifted past everyone, dispersing throughout the laboratory to detect and repair structural wear at speeds far too fast for the naked eye to track. Both General Miller and Ben watched the spectacle, their awe now impossible to suppress.

  Master Hoto began to chant in ancient Tefa, his voice powerful and elongated like a resurrection ritual. As his incantations intensified, the nanobot clouds multiplied until they filled the entire hall, obscuring the surroundings until one could barely see their own hand before their face.

  After a long interval, the black dust storm gradually subsided, being vacuumed back into the vessel’s hull until the last grain vanished. What remained was a ship completely transformed. The traces of decay and rot had been replaced by a smooth, resilient surface—looking as though it had just been freshly forged in a trans-galactic factory!

  The vision manifested before the three men was a marvel that completely erased all prior memories of the wreckage. From a festering, bio-metallic carcass that had reeked of decay and awaited its end, the vessel had been resurrected into perfection. Smooth, vibrant crimson tissue integrated seamlessly with a metallic structure that shimmered as if freshly forged. Every inch of the craft looked "brand new" and radiated a potency unlike anything they had ever witnessed.

  However, the cost of such a feat was immense. Lord Hoto collapsed, his strength utterly spent. He withdrew his hand from the hull with a visible tremor, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he murmured bitterly to himself.

  “I truly must be... getting too old. To barely have the strength left just to awaken this thing.”

  Lord Ben, his eyes wide with an electrified fascination, rushed to his side, immediately channeling a surge of pure energy to sustain his master’s failing form. Meanwhile, General Miller stood by, watching the scene with an indescribable mixture of emotions. He had witnessed a pinnacle of power that could manifest miracles, yet he remained a mere human, standing idly and uselessly on the sidelines.

  Miller looked down at his own hands, his gaze fraught with tension and inner conflict. Suddenly, Hoto’s voice resonated within his mind with uncanny perception.

  “Do not trouble yourself with the limitations of your current strength... Miller,” Hoto spoke, even as he recovered under Ben’s care. “One day... should you remain loyal and serve me with unwavering honesty, you shall be trained to wield power equal to that of Ben. I always honor my promises. Have no fear.”

  Hoto’s words were like nectar poured upon Miller’s parched and hungry soul. He remained silent, but a dark, newfound hope began to smolder in his eyes. As for Ben, seeing the situation back under control, he resumed his mask of cold solemnity—yet he couldn't suppress a smirk, the look of one who held the ultimate trump card over every human in this entire facility.

  ————————————————————————————————————————

  The Healing Capsule Chamber, Mount Krailaz

  As the shroud of night deepened and the inhabitants of the simulated ecosystem fell into a profound slumber, only Yuriremained vigilant. She sat before Victor’s capsule, her heart heavy with concern and restless anticipation. Suddenly, the blue indicator lights atop both Victor’s and Master Tenzin’s capsules began to pulse in a rapid, rhythmic cadence—resembling the frantic thumping of a newly awakened heart.

  “Master Ren! Master Ren! Please, come quickly!” Yuri cried out, her voice echoing through the silent, desolate corridors.

  In a mere heartbeat, Lord Ren drifted gracefully into the room, the "Pon" orb on his chest shimmering in perfect, systematic synchronicity with the capsule signals.

  “I know... I have seen it all, Yuri. Do not be troubled,” Ren spoke with his signature profound and composed tone. “The calibration of their physical forms and neural pathways is complete. It is flawless.”

  Ren’s reassurance calmed Yuri slightly, though a flicker of lingering anxiety still danced in her eyes.

  “And you... what physical transformations have you observed from the exterior?” Ren asked, reaching out to slowly draw away the blankets Yuri had used to modestly cover the lower halves of the capsules.

  Yuri jumped slightly, her eyes instinctively darting toward the men’s "private sectors" for a split second. Her fair face flushed crimson once more before she hurriedly diverted her gaze to inspect the rest of their forms. Their bodies now boasted sharply defined musculature and a radiant complexion, looking as though they had been meticulously sculpted anew.

  Yuri stared at the figures within the capsules, her eyes sparkling. “The muscle definition... the skin... everything looks so strong and perfect, Master Ren! It’s like they’ve undergone years of intense training, yet it’s only been a few nights!”

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  “Go and prepare two sets of clothing and two transport beds. And—” Before Ren could even finish his sentence, Yuri had already streaked away, returning in a flash with everything she had secretly pre-staged as close to the capsules as possible.

  Ren raised an eyebrow in surprise before a smile touched his lips. “Impressive... you are remarkably well-prepared. However, for the clothing, I require them to be placed in lightweight patient gowns first. There is no need for the Lama robes or the T-shirts and jeans you favor just yet. Their bodies still need to stabilize; they require a period of recovery—though I suspect the wait won't be long.”

  Without a second's delay, Yuri zipped off to fetch the easy-to-wear patient gowns and cloaks with such blinding speed that Ren could only shake his head at the young girl's impatient zeal.

  “Very well... since we are ready, whose capsule shall I open first?” Ren asked, testing her.

  “Master Tenzin’s, please!” Yuri answered brightly without a moment's hesitation.

  Ren allowed a knowing smirk to play at the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly why she chose the Master first: she wanted Victor, her beloved, to remain in his pristine state as long as possible—or perhaps she was simply saving the most thrilling reveal for last!

  ————————————————————————————————————————

  The Colossal Secret Subterranean Hall, Area 51

  After being sustained by Ben’s energy until his strength was sufficiently restored, Lord Hoto ascended gracefully into the air once more, regaining his regal composure. “I thank you... my dear disciple,” he spoke with a voice that had regained its commanding resonance.

  Before departing, Hoto’s piercing gaze swept across his protégé and his trusted General. “Miller... this is an absolute decree. No one—not a single soul—is to set foot in this chamber without exception! That includes both of you, unless the order comes directly from me. Is that understood?”

  Both Ben and Miller bowed their heads in humble compliance, yet deep within their hearts, a fog of suspicion began to swell. Hoto attempted to probe their minds, searching for any hidden agendas, but he found himself limited. While his telepathic reach was vast, he lacked the sophisticated mastery required for true "Mind Reading." He could transmit and receive thoughts, but the true, unvoiced intentions of the two men remained veiled from him.

  “As you command, Master!” Ben and Miller replied in unison, their expressions so firm and disciplined they appeared flawless.

  “Then, for tonight... we conclude our business. Let us return to the primary zone,” Hoto declared, bringing the session to an end.

  The three figures drifted out of the silent, cavernous hall, leaving the resurrected Brama vessel standing monolithic amidst the encroaching darkness—abandoning the remaining secrets of the process to the void behind them.

  ————————————————————————————————————————

  Skies above the Himalayas, Early Dawn

  In the vast, silent expanse of the early morning sky, a sudden, thunderous explosion shattered the peace!

  BOOM!!... BOOM!!

  A massive Sonic Boom rippled outward, tearing through the clouds and leaving a long, jagged white trail across the horizon. At this moment, the elder Drapa cared for no one—god or man. He pushed his velocity beyond all limits, utterly indifferent to whether any human eyes might track his trajectory of power.

  “There it is... the peak shaped like a gargantuan pyramid. My old home... I’ve finally arrived,” Drapa murmured to himself, decelerating to a normal pace to allow his eyes to scrutinize the world below.

  He swept his gaze through the clouds down to the settlements, which had transformed so radically they were almost unrecognizable. The roads were vast and modern, far different from the world he knew centuries ago.

  “I can’t wait to see the face of the new Guardian. I wonder which generation they’ve reached by now. I was slated for the 11th, but I wasn’t stupid enough to sit around protecting a piece of rotting flesh. I don’t see the point in it—guarding it generation after generation. Some 'legendary deity' from the myths? Sleeping in a glass tube for thousands of years? And now Master Hoto wants me to bring that rot back. He’ll find out soon enough that it’s completely useless,” Drapa thought with a haughty, arrogant smirk. “If those Guardian masters are still teaching the same old techniques from generation to generation... they’re finished. This will be a walk in the park.”

  Drapa dropped his flight altitude until he nearly grazed the treetops. He streaked through the landscapes of cities and mountains, surging directly toward the enchanted barrier of Mount Krailaz, his heart swelling with overconfidence.

  Snowy Peaks near Mount Krailaz, Tibet

  “A new target has appeared... trajectory is direct toward the secret coordinates. Energy signature suggests high confidence. Physical profile: slender build, approximately 165 centimeters tall, clad in charcoal-black Tibetan monastic robes. From his external appearance, he seems advanced in age, but his strength is extraordinary,” Captain Li Wei reported through a secure communication link to China’s Tibet Ground Command.

  “Most significantly... he just performed a supersonic maneuver without his robes tearing in the slightest. What are my orders?”

  “Based on the thermal imaging and the description you’ve provided... he is not in the government’s central database,” a stern voice from a Chinese General barked back. “This individual is likely a recluse who has shunned society for centuries—perhaps one of the 'Immortals' we’ve been searching for. Maintain strict surveillance. He may be the key that leads us to the hidden entrance within Mount Krailaz. Do not reveal your position under any circumstances!”

  Captain Li Wei acknowledged the command. He remained motionless, buried deep beneath the heavy snow like a cold stone to mask his heat signature. Only a miniature Insect Drone had been deployed to conduct remote observation.

  Meanwhile, Drapa expertly lowered his altitude, gliding toward a massive rocky overhang with the familiarity of one returning home. Suddenly, a swarm of about ten long-eared bats—freshly emerged from the cavern—began to circle him, emitting sharp, high-pitched chirps and flapping their wings in greeting before dispersing into the vast world beyond.

  “Hmph... Sending a welcoming committee to greet me home, are we? You little bats,” Drapa remarked in high spirits, utterly unaware that the micro-camera of an insect drone was zooming in, capturing his every movement from the opposite cliffside.

  “Young Chinese Dragon... I know you can hear my voice.”

  The profound, composed voice resonated directly within Li Wei’s consciousness, causing him to recoil in utter shock. The snow that had once concealed his form began to shift and cascade away, synchronizing with his racing pulse. “Who is this?!” he exclaimed inwardly, his mind racing in a frantic blur.

  “My name is Ren... one of the individuals you have been so diligently observing,” the telepathic voice remained flat and steady. “That visitor in black does not arrive with friendly intentions toward us. And based on my calculations... you possess sufficient power to act as a 'stalling force,' buying time until I complete a vital mission within these walls. Then, I shall emerge to deal with him personally. Please, hold him back for a while... consider it a personal request.”

  The moment the words “stalling force” hit his mind, the veins on Li Wei’s temples throbbed violently. His pride as a premier operative and a warrior of the Dragon’s army had been insulted beyond endurance.

  “Me... a mere distraction?! You underestimate me!”

  Li Wei let out a thunderous roar, his fury blinding all reason. He detonated his internal energy from his hiding spot with a deafening blast that rivaled ten tons of explosives! Massive plumes of snow erupted into the sky like a volcanic explosion, scattering across the landscape.

  The ensuing chaos caused the villagers and pilgrims performing their sacred morning Kora around Mount Krailaz to freeze in terror. Every eye turned toward the nearby peaks, staring in shock at the cataclysmic roar echoing through the holy mountains.

  The shockwave of energy Li Wei unleashed struck with such force that it rattled the very ground where Drapa stood. Within a heartbeat, the imposing, 195-centimeter-tall silhouette of the Chinese Dragon officer soared through the air, manifesting directly in front of Drapa. His dense, powerful musculature stood in stark, towering contrast to the shorter elder.

  The two locked eyes intensely amidst the swirling snow. It wasn't until the final snowflake drifted to the ground that an oppressive silence blanketed the entire area.

  “Elder... by what name are you known? Why is it that I cannot find a single trace of your existence within my system’s database?” Li Wei inquired in deep, resonant Mandarin, looking every bit like a protagonist stepped out of a classic wuxia film.

  Drapa’s laughter suddenly roared across the peaks of Mount Krailaz—a laugh filled with power and mockery. “Hahahaha! You speak Mandarin, do you... a lad from the Land of the Dragon, I see.” Drapa struggled to respond, mixing ancient Tibetan with a heavily distorted Mandarin accent. But his dialect, obsolete for centuries, left Li Wei standing in utter confusion.

  Li Wei furrowed his brow before attempting a different bridge of communication. “...Can you speak English?”

  “Yes! Sure!” Drapa replied instantly with supreme confidence.

  In a heartbeat, both regained their stoic, intimidating stances. The negotiation between these two cross-generational warriors commenced in English—stumbling, grammatically broken, and peppered with errors—yet it somehow allowed them to grasp each other’s intent far better than the archaic tongues that had failed them moments before.

  “I have been ordered to maintain strict surveillance over this sector... No one enters or exits without my direct authorization!” Li Wei declared in the dictatorial tone of the Dragon military.

  Drapa narrowed his eyes, scanning Li Wei from head to toe, inspecting the strange, high-tech combat suit. “What is this outfit you’re wearing...? And take off that ridiculous helmet before you talk to me. I want to see the face of the warrior who dares to block my path.”

  Li Wei hesitated for a moment before deactivating the locking system and removing his tactical helmet. He revealed a sharp, rugged face—the embodiment of a soldier’s discipline—even as a stream of rapid-fire Chinese commands crackled from the radio attached to the helmet in his hand.

  “So, you are a Chinese soldier...” Drapa’s voice shifted to a bone-chilling coldness. “And what business do you have flaunting your presence here? This is Tibet, my home... stay the hell out of my business!”

  Drapa’s fury erupted with his final sentence, causing the very air to vibrate. Yet, Li Wei responded with a flat, impassive expression. “Do you not know? Tibet has been a part of China for a very long time now.”

  The answer struck Drapa like a physical blow. His face paled in shock. “...Since when?” he muttered to himself in utter confusion. In the five centuries he had been gone, China had integrated Tibet as an autonomous region.

  Drapa struggled to suppress his surging emotions, his aggressive glare now flickering with genuine concern. “Then... what of the Dalai Lama? Which generation is it now? Does His Holiness still reside here?”

  Li Wei looked at the elder before him, his feelings caught between enmity and a strange sense of pity. “The 14th Dalai Lama, named Tenzin Gyatso... has lived in exile, leading a government-in-exile in Dharamshala, India, for many decades now.”

  “What are you babbling about! Government-in-exile?!” Drapa roared. “I was a soldier of the 3rd Dalai Lama, under the patronage of Altan Khan, leader of the Gelug sect. I led armies to crush the power-hungry and barbaric Kagyu. Even Buddhists, who should follow the path of peace, were slaughtering one another like savages. What choice was there? Fire must be fought with fire... Ugh, to hell with it! I am free from all factions now. I fight only for my own ideals. So, what is it going to be?”

  Drapa snapped back into a combat-ready stance, his gaze sharp enough to draw blood.

  “Is that the truth, Elder... that you fight only for yourself and follow no one’s orders?” Li Wei asked provocatively, his voice laced with suspicion.

  The question jabbed directly at Drapa’s conscience, bringing a flash of Master Hoto and Ben’s faces to his mind. The realization only intensified his embarrassment and fueled his rage.

  “And what if I do! That is my goddamn business!”

  CRACK!!

  As his roar faded, Drapa lunged forward with speed surpassing human perception. He closed the distance in a blur and delivered a devastating punch squarely to Li Wei’s face! The sonic boom from that single impact thundered across the Himalayan range, the sheer air pressure spiraling with such intensity that the surrounding snow evaporated into steam instantly.

  Villagers and pilgrims in the distance rubbed their eyes, searching for the source of that unnatural thunder, but they saw only a chaotic vortex of smoke and pulverized snow obscuring the combatants.

  Li Wei’s body was knocked back only slightly by the force of the blow. He regained his footing, hovering steadily about ten meters away from Drapa. He used his thumb to casually wipe a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth, a defiant smirk spreading across his face.

  “So, you’re playing for keeps now...” Li Wei resumed his Dragon Warrior persona. “Then don't hold it against me if a big lad like myself has to bully a small elder like you. Ah... but it would be dreadfully rude if we didn't know each other's names.” He tightened his stance. “I am Li Wei, also known as San Long... the Mountain Dragon!”

  “A Chinese hound... serving the Chinese masters, I see! But don’t you dare get in my way in my own home!”

  Drapa spat back, still refusing to give his name at first. He launched a frantic, relentless assault on Li Wei, giving him no room to breathe. The elder’s small frame moved like a bolt of lightning. Li Wei was forced to maneuver through the air with exceptional skill, dodging and weaving. The two chased each other from the mountain’s base to its summit, tearing through the cloud cover until it shredded into wisps. All the while, the dozen or so spy-bats circled at a distance, acting as silent witnesses to this monumental duel.

  Finally, they came to a halt, facing off mid-air directly above the peak of Mount Krailaz, maintaining the same ten-meter gap as before.

  “The name is Drapa... Young man, you’ve got talent. I haven’t encountered speed like yours in a very long time.” As he spoke, a fleeting thought of Ben crossed his mind, but Drapa shook it off, refocusing his intent on the enemy before him.

  Li Wei smiled with the pride of a speedster. “That first punch was the only chance you’ll have to touch me. From here on, I’m getting serious. Prepare yourself, Elder!”

  “Hmph... You’ll get to know the second punch, the third, and countless more after that!” Drapa’s laughter boomed through the mountains. “But it’s your punches that will be utterly useless before me!”

  With those words, Drapa began to draw out his Hidden Aura from the very foundation of his cells. The veins along his arms and neck bulged with a vivid, pulsating green, as if ready to burst. His once-withered muscles expanded, becoming taut and exquisitely defined, like a deity carved from marble. The atmosphere around him began to warp and distort from the sheer heat of his immense energy state!

  “Brace yourself, boy... This technique was crafted specifically to put a Chinese hound in its place!”

  The moment Drapa’s words hung in the air, his taut, muscle-bound form vanished from Li Wei’s sight in a split second! Heavy, bone-crushing blows began to rain down upon the young soldier from every conceivable direction, striking with such velocity and violence that he was left utterly defenseless.

  BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

  “So fast! What the hell is this... Where did this old man get such monstrous power?!” Li Wei cursed inwardly, reeling in shock. He was tossed around like a ragdoll by the repeated impacts. Despite his desperate attempts to surge his internal energy and evade, Drapa’s current speed was on an entirely different plane of existence.

  The atmosphere around Li Wei began to warp. The vision before him was no longer of a single opponent, but as if he were being simultaneously ambushed by four elite masters from all sides! Fists and feet lunged at his vital points with unerring precision and relentless continuity, forcing him to do nothing but raise his arms in a desperate, clumsy attempt to shield himself.

  Li Wei tried to take flight, hoping to regain distance, but Drapa cut off every escape route with terrifying foresight. The speed he once prided as the absolute pinnacle of the Dragon Army had now been reduced to a sluggish crawl in the presence of this elder from a primordial era!

  ———————————————————————————— Ruth VT-Hin ——————