The clash roared.
Violet and gold collided — not in an explosion, but in a grinding storm that tore the air apart. Lightning snarled against refined qi; each thread of violet burned through the spiral, only for gold to seal the gaps faster than they could open.
The lizard roared — a sound like tearing sky and metal. Its wings beat furiously, hurling arcs of raw energy, but the spear's spiral devoured everything it touched.
Lin Canghua's grip tightened.
The Meridian Breaker thrummed, alive with resonance. Each breath he took pulled more qi through his broken meridians — refining, condensing, forcing it into the weapon's veins.
> "You're strong," he said quietly, his voice drowned beneath the roar of storm and stone. "But strength without structure is chaos."
He stepped forward — once.
The courtyard shattered. Stone peeled away beneath his feet as the spiral widened, turning into a torrent of golden light that crushed through the lizard's defenses. Lightning detonated, refracted, and was consumed.
The lizard's claws dug deep into the ground, gouging trenches through the stone as it struggled to hold its stance. Its breath came ragged; every time it gathered lightning, the spiral's pressure broke it apart before release.
> "No—no, not like this—" it thought, muscles trembling. "It's pushing my energy back again—!"
The golden current surged forward.
Lin Canghua raised the spear high. His wounded arm shook, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth — but his eyes burned with focus.
> "Meridian Breaker — Second Pulse."
He drove the weapon down.
The golden spiral collapsed into a single line — a piercing wave that struck the lizard square in the chest before it could react. The impact was silent for half a breath — then everything erupted outward.
Cracks split through the beast's scales, light seeping through the wounds. Its wings twisted, arcs scattering wildly, slamming into the shattered walls.
It was being pushed back — physically, spiritually, completely.
The pressure forced it through the wreckage of the courtyard, every blow carving deeper furrows in the ground. When the spear finally struck earth, the wave continued for several meters before it dispersed in a shock of dust and energy.
The lizard skidded backward, leaving scorched trails, before crashing hard against the far wall. The impact carved an outline of its body into the stone before it slumped, trembling, smoke and lightning leaking from its form.
Lin Canghua staggered but stayed standing, the spear embedded in the ground before him, golden light still flowing through the weapon's veins.
He exhaled once, slow and deliberate.
Each breath came with a faint tremor — the toll of channeling so much energy through damaged meridians.
> "You're tenacious," he murmured. "But I told you — control conquers chaos."
The lizard groaned low in its throat. Its body twitched; smoke drifted from its wounds. Lightning still flickered along its body, but the rhythm was broken — unstable, faltering.
> "I can't… control my energy properly…" it thought weakly, claws gouging into the stone. "He's forcing it back every time I move. My body is burning…"
The air pulsed once more.
Lin Canghua lifted his gaze, tightening his grip on the spear.
> "Still alive?" he said softly. "Then let's end this properly."
He stepped forward — slow, deliberate — the spear dragging a trail of golden light across the ruined courtyard.
The lizard roared again, lightning surging along its spine, racing down its tail until every scale blazed blue-gold. With a crack like thunder breaking stone, it swung.
The tail carved through the air — a storm-bright arc of power. Each charged scale pulsed once, then launched forward, more than a dozen crackling shards tearing toward Lin Canghua in a blazing spiral.
He didn't move.
Didn't even blink.
> CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The courtyard flashed with every impact. Sparks scattered, molten light spilling across shattered tile as each scale struck the barrier around him. The shield flared, trembling — but it held.
When the final echo faded, the lizard's breath came in harsh bursts. Its lightning wavered, dimming. The ground between them was scorched black, webbed with faintly glowing cracks.
Lin Canghua didn't move. He watched the barrier tremble faintly under the assault — not cracking, not faltering, simply absorbing.
> "Raw power again," he murmured, voice low, calm. "Instinctive. Predictable."
He lifted one hand. The barrier pulsed once, then expanded outward in a wave of golden ripples.
Each ripple struck the lizard's scales with a deep, resonant hum — not violent, but heavy and precise. The beast flinched; the lightning running along its body stuttered and dimmed.
> "You rely on momentum," Lin said, eyes narrowing. "But momentum dies the moment it meets equilibrium."
His fingers closed. The barrier folded inward, collapsing into a narrow sphere of condensed qi that surrounded the lizard completely. The air warped; light distorted around the edges.
The lizard's pupils contracted. It could feel the pressure closing in, crushing every thread of lightning before it could form.
> "What— is this—?"
"Spiritual energy Compression," Lin answered simply. "You've seen the seal. Now you'll feel the core."
The sphere shrank. The lizard's body tensed against the qi walls, claws gouging at the air. Each motion sparked blue-white arcs that instantly snuffed out against the golden glow.
The beast roared, sound twisting through the vibrating air, wings beating furiously — but the sphere only pulsed tighter, the sigils across its surface shifting in perfect rhythm with Lin's heartbeat.
He raised his other hand, palm glowing.
> "You've tested your strength against my defenses again and again," he said, voice soft but carrying. "Now test your endurance against restraint."
The golden sphere brightened — not with heat, but with density. Every inch of space pressed in like the weight of a mountain, folding the lizard's lightning back into its core.
Cracks of violet energy flickered along the beast's body, veins of light crawling up its neck as it strained to resist.
> "Hhhn— no—!" it growled, voice rumbling deep in its throat.
Lin's gaze didn't waver.
> "Brace yourself," he said.
The air shivered, charged with power, the courtyard trembling with anticipation.
And then Lin Canghua took a slow, deliberate step forward, spear tracing a line of golden light across the ruins.
Everything hung in silence.
The lizard braced. Its claws dug deep. Lightning coiled along its body.
Lin Canghua paused, spear raised. Qi thrummed through the weapon.