The battlefield around them was a chaotic tapestry of fire and blood, but for Shen Xun'er, Shen Ji, and Jin Ci, the world had narrowed down to the titan standing before them.
Ah-Hu was a mountain of scarred, corded muscle, his skin the color of cooling magma, and in his hands, he gripped a club carved from the femur of a prehistoric behemoth, still dripping with the gore of the Spirit Hall soldiers he had pulverized moments prior.
The air around the Giant General shimmered with a raw, oppressive heat that causes the air to distort.
This wasn't the refined qi of the civilized cultivator, but instead, it was a primal, bloodline-driven pressure that felt like being submerged in molten lead.
Something only those with unrefined cultivation can possess.
"This guy is bad news, isn't he?" Jin Ci said.
His voice was steady, but a thick drop of sweat tracked a path through the dust on his forehead, hanging for a second on his chin before falling.
