The journey back to Ironclad Village was a desperate race against time. The Sky-Carriage, purloined by Eric with a blend of stealth and sheer willpower, cut through the sky like a silver arrow. The anxiety in the carriage was thick, a palpable tension as Eric pushed its spiritual engines to their absolute limit. Three days. Three agonizing days, each minute stretched by the looming threat of the monster horde.
When the familiar, modest walls of Ironclad Village finally appeared on the horizon, relief washed over them, so profound it almost brought them to their knees. The village was still standing. No smoke plumes, no sounds of battle. They had made it.
The Sky-Carriage, no longer concealed, descended rapidly, drawing every eye in the village. Farmers dropped their tools, children stopped playing, and guards stiffened, clutching their rudimentary weapons. A grand, Academy-issue Sky-Carriage appearing unannounced over Ironclad Village was an unprecedented sight.
As the ramp lowered, Eric, Mei, Elara, and Faelan emerged, their faces grim but resolute. A collective gasp swept through the villagers. These weren't the same soft, eager youths who had left months ago. Their robes, though still modest, carried the subtle aura of the Inner Court. Their eyes held a depth, a sharpness, that spoke of trials endured and strength gained. Their spiritual energies, though deliberately suppressed by Eric and his team, hummed with an undeniable power that left the villagers awestruck.
"Eric! Mei! Elara! Faelan!" A wave of excited shouts rippled through the crowd. Lena broke free, running towards Eric, her eyes wide with joy. Elara rushed forward, tears streaming down her face as she embraced her children.
"My boy! You've come back!" Elara pulled Eric into a fierce hug, then held him at arm's length, her eyes searching. The change in him was undeniable. His posture was straighter, his gaze more piercing, his presence radiating a calm, formidable power she had never sensed before. He was still her son, but something profound had shifted. He was no longer just a boy; he was a cultivator of immense, hidden strength. "What... what has happened to you all?"
"We've grown strong, Mother," Eric said, a gentle smile on his face. He reached into his Spatial Pouch, pulling out a small, intricately carved wooden bird for Lena and a shimmering spiritual necklace for his mother. "Just a few gifts."
The villagers, meanwhile, were buzzing with whispers. "Look at them! They're so powerful!" "They shine!" Then, the inevitable question arose. "But... where's Theron? He was supposed to be the strongest." A wave of confused murmurs spread. The gap between expectation and reality was stark.
Eric made his way to Elder Jian, who stood at the front of the gathered villagers, his expression a mixture of profound relief and bewildered awe. "Elder," Eric said, bowing respectfully.
"Eric. My boy," Elder Jian returned, his voice thick with emotion. He placed a trembling hand on Eric's shoulder, his spiritual sense gently probing. His eyes widened slightly. "You... you've grown immensely. All of you. This is beyond anything I could have imagined." He looked at Mei, pride swelling in his eyes.
"Elder," Eric cut to the chase, his voice grave. "We didn't just come back for a visit. A monster horde. Thousands strong. It's heading this way. It'll be here by morning."
Elder Jian's face paled. He had already sensed the distant, growing spiritual disturbance, but he hadn't dared to believe it was a horde. "A horde? So soon? No... Eric, we cannot fight such a force. Our villagers, our guards... we have too few cultivators. We must prepare to evacuate. It's our only chance. We'll be too slow if we wait any longer."
"No, Elder," Eric stated firmly, his gaze unwavering. "There's no time. By the time we could organize a full evacuation, the horde would be upon us. And where would they go? The plains are dangerous. Most wouldn't survive the journey. We have to fight."
Elder Jian stared at him, then at Mei, Elara, and Faelan. He saw the resolute power radiating from them. "Fight? Four of you against thousands? Even with your growth, Eric, it's madness. There could be A-rank beasts among them!"
"There are," Eric confirmed, his voice chillingly calm. "And we will stop them."
He turned to his team. "Mei, Elara, Faelan. We have one day. We prepare. We gather our strength. And we go out there tonight. We thin them out, hit the strong ones first. We secure the village."
The three nodded, their eyes burning with determination. This was their home. This was their stand.
The next hours were a flurry of quiet, intense preparation. Eric, Mei, Elara, and Faelan ate, meditated, and meticulously prepared their weapons. Eric purified his spiritual staff, sharpening its edges with his draconic Qi. Mei checked her spiritual formation scrolls, Elara sharpened her twin daggers, and Faelan polished her sturdy bow, preparing her spiritual arrows.
As dusk settled, casting long shadows over the village, the four young cultivators, now vastly stronger than any could imagine, slipped out of the village gates. The distant rumble of the approaching horde was growing louder, a low, ominous growl that vibrated through the earth.
They moved fast, their spiritual senses acting as an extended network. Eric led, his Foundation Establishment Stage 7 aura now fully unleashed, acting as a beacon of power. He targeted the largest concentrations of monsters, the ones with the strongest Qi signatures.
The battle began under the cloak of night. It was a symphony of precise strikes and overwhelming power. Eric, wielding his staff with devastating fluidity, moved like a true dragon, his Claws of Might tearing through the defenses of B-rank Stonehide Grizzlies and Venomous Spiders with contemptuous ease. His Breath of the Azure manifested as piercing beams of pure energy, carving through ranks of D-rank and C-rank beasts. He always went for the strongest, the most dangerous, allowing his team to focus on the overwhelming numbers.
Mei, now a Foundation Establishment Stage 1 cultivator, moved with graceful precision, her Qi flowing into intricate spiritual formations that disoriented, bound, and even temporarily paralyzed scores of monsters, creating openings for Elara and Faelan. Her spiritual arrows, imbued with sharp, refined Qi, found their marks with deadly accuracy.
Elara and Faelan, their Qi at Qi Condensation Stage 9 and Foundation Establishment Stage 1 respectively, fought like a well-oiled machine. Elara's defensive Qi enveloped them like a flexible shield, deflecting countless blows, while her short-range, powerful spiritual bursts disrupted monster formations. Faelan's spiritual arrows, infused with pure power, pierced through monsters' hides, and her close-combat dagger skills, honed by Eric, were swift and lethal.
They moved as a singular force, a whirlwind of cultivated power against a tide of raw, feral aggression. For hours, they systematically thinned the horde, leaving a trail of monster corpses in their wake, their combined strength far exceeding anything the villagers could have conceived. They were still holding back their ultimate, most resource-intensive techniques, conserving energy for the real threats they knew were still to come.
The night wore on, the air thick with the stench of blood and spiritual energy. They had defeated hundreds, perhaps even a thousand monsters, but the horde was vast, seemingly endless. As dawn began to paint the sky in hues of purple and grey, a new, terrifying shadow fell over them.
A piercing shriek, raw and primordial, tore through the air, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. The remaining monsters scattered, whimpering, a clear sign of a higher predator's presence.
From the swirling mists of the early morning, a colossal, winged monstrosity emerged. Its scales were like polished obsidian, its wings stretched wide, blotting out the rising sun. Its eyes glowed with malevolent intelligence, and its Qi signature was immense, overwhelming, utterly unlike anything they had ever encountered.
An S-rank monster. A Wyvern.
"An S-rank!" Faelan gasped, her voice barely a whisper, her usual fearlessness replaced by profound dread.
"This is impossible!" Elara added, her face pale. "This isn't just a horde! This is a calamity orchestrated by an S-rank!"
The Wyvern descended, its shadow falling over them like a shroud of death. It let out another ear-splitting shriek, a challenge, a declaration of dominance. It was leagues beyond even the Ancient Rock Serpent they had faced in the rift.
They banded together, immediately launching their most powerful combined attacks. Eric unleashed multiple Claws of Might, imbued with the full force of his Foundation Establishment Stage 7 Qi. Mei conjured a complex spiritual formation, attempting to bind the Wyvern. Elara and Faelan poured their combined spiritual energy into a devastating volley of powerful arrows and spiritual bursts.
But the Wyvern didn't even flinch. Their attacks, which would have instantly annihilated any A-rank beast, merely glanced off its obsidian scales, harmlessly dissipating. It was as if they were striking a mountain. The Wyvern merely tilted its head, a look of amused disdain in its eyes, then swept its massive tail.
The blow was casual, yet devastating. Eric, Mei, Elara, and Faelan were sent flying, crashing through trees, their spiritual defenses shattering like glass. Pain exploded through Eric's body. He struggled to rise, his spiritual energy flickering dangerously. The others lay groaning, injured, their Qi almost depleted.
"We can't fight it," Mei rasped, clutching her side. "It's too strong. We have to retreat!"
But the Wyvern merely chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through their bones. It landed in front of them, its massive claws pinning them down, cutting off any escape. A wave of suffocating spiritual pressure washed over them, pushing them to the brink of unconsciousness.
"Eric! This is the moment!" the Dragon Spirit's voice thundered in his mind, resonant with ancient power. "The Dragon's Synchronicity! It is a forbidden technique, a last resort! It requires absolute trust and synchronicity with your allies, and their full acceptance of your Qi flow. It will absorb massive amounts of ambient spiritual energy, and your own, channeling it through all of you, pushing you far beyond your limits, but it is dangerous! Are you ready?!"
"Ready!" Eric gasped, pushing through the pain, his eyes burning with defiance.
He looked at Mei, Elara, and Faelan, their faces bruised, their eyes filled with despair. "Trust me!" Eric cried out, his voice raw. "Give me your Qi! All of it! Let it flow into me! And then let me guide it through you!"
He didn't wait for a reply. He immediately activated the Dragon's Synchronicity. A golden aura erupted from him, encompassing Mei, Elara, and Faelan. His Dantian became a roaring vortex, greedily absorbing the spiritual energy from the environment, and from his teammates, drawing it in, purifying it with his draconic essence, and then surging it back into them, amplified and transformed.
Mei, Elara, and Faelan gasped as a torrent of pure, powerful Qi surged through their meridians, burning away their fatigue, invigorating their bodies, and enhancing their senses. Their vision sharpened, their muscles coiled with unbelievable power, their minds became one with Eric's, their movements synchronized as if by a single will. Their Qi Condensation stages felt like a distant memory; they were now operating at a level far beyond their own cultivation, almost like temporary Foundation Establishment Stage 5 cultivators.
The Wyvern, sensing the sudden surge of power, let out a startled roar.
"Now!" Eric commanded, his voice echoing in their synchronized minds. "No holding back! Everything! Unleash it all!"
They moved as one. Eric, now a beacon of blazing blue Qi, launched a Breath of the Azure so powerful it tore through the air, manifesting as a colossal, roaring dragon that slammed into the Wyvern's head. Mei followed with a blinding array of spiritual formations that appeared almost instantaneously, binding the Wyvern's limbs. Elara and Faelan, moving with impossible speed, launched a devastating barrage of spiritual attacks, their arrows and Qi bursts imbued with the amplified draconic energy, striking the Wyvern's exposed joints and soft underbelly.
The Wyvern shrieked in pain and fury, its obsidian scales cracking under the barrage. It tried to absorb their Qi, but Eric's draconic energy was too pure, too overwhelming, too foreign for it to assimilate. The combined force was a symphony of destruction, each attack flowing seamlessly into the next, overwhelming the S-rank monster.
With a final, deafening roar, Eric unleashed his ultimate attack. He condensed all his remaining power, and the synchronized power of his team, into a single, colossal Claw of Might. It was not just a claw; it was the manifestation of a dragon's talon, shimmering with pure, golden-azure light. He struck the Wyvern directly in its spiritual core, a point he had instinctively identified.
The S-rank Wyvern convulsed, its massive body seizing. Its eyes dimmed, and it crashed to the earth with a thunderous impact that shook the entire plains. The air filled with the dying echoes of its spiritual energy.
They stood panting, the golden aura fading, the incredible surge of power receding. Their spiritual energies were utterly depleted, their bodies aching, but they were alive. And the Wyvern was dead.
"We... we did it," Faelan whispered, her voice filled with awe.
"By the Ancestors," Mei breathed, looking at the fallen S-rank monster. "We actually defeated an S-rank."
Eric, despite his exhaustion, felt a surge of exhilaration. They had pushed beyond their limits, faced overwhelming odds, and emerged victorious.
They quickly began extracting the Wyvern's valuable materials: its massive core, its incredibly tough scales, its venom sacs, its sharp talons. These were treasures beyond compare, far more valuable than anything they had ever encountered. They also gathered the cores and materials from the other monsters they had defeated throughout the night. Their Spatial Pouches groaned under the weight of their immense haul.
As the sun fully rose, casting its golden light over the ravaged plains, they made their way back to Ironclad Village, their steps weary but triumphant.
The village gates were open. Panic filled the air. Villagers were frantically packing, preparing carts, their faces etched with fear. Elder Jian was directing efforts, his voice strained.
"The horde! It's coming! We must move! Now!" someone cried.
"Stop!" Eric's voice, though exhausted, carried across the clearing. He walked into the village square, his team behind him, their faces resolute.
A collective gasp swept through the villagers as they saw the four bloodied, weary but victorious figures. And then, Eric, with a final, monumental effort, pulled the gigantic, lifeless body of the S-rank Wyvern from his Spatial Pouch, dropping it with a thundering crash in the middle of the village square.
Silence. Absolute, stunned silence.
The Wyvern. An S-rank monster. Dead. Its obsidian body lay sprawled, an undeniable testament to the impossible.
"The horde is broken," Eric announced, his voice ringing with authority. "The S-rank leader is dead. Ironclad Village is safe."
The silence lasted for another precious moment, then erupted into a joyous, tearful roar. Villagers rushed forward, embracing them, weeping with relief and overwhelming gratitude.
Later, as the full scale of their victory sank in, Eric and his team, now hailed as saviors, began assessing their immense haul. The Wyvern's core alone was a legendary treasure. Its scales, its venom, its unique spiritual organs—these were materials that could revolutionize entire industries, materials that could establish a new Grand Clan. The thousands of other monster cores and parts they had gathered were also incredibly valuable.
They tried to sell some of the lesser cores and materials to the village merchants. "This is too much, Eric!" the merchants exclaimed, their eyes wide. "We don't have enough spiritual stones in the entire village to buy even a tenth of this!"
It quickly became apparent. Ironclad Village, for all its charm, simply did not have the economic capacity to handle such a monumental treasure. The Wyvern parts, in particular, were beyond the wildest dreams of any local trader.
"We'll have to sell them back in Azure City," Eric decided, looking at the mountain of valuable materials they had amassed. "They have the wealth, and the demand, for items of this caliber."
He then sought out his mother. He found her, still teary-eyed with relief and joy, clutching Lena close.
"Mother," Eric began, his voice gentle. "I need you and Lena to come back to Azure City with me. For your protection. For your safety. I have enough now to provide for you both, truly live in comfort, without any worry. And the city... it's safer. After what just happened, and with my status now, you'll be protected within the Academy's grounds."
Elara hesitated, her gaze sweeping over her familiar village, then settling on her son. She saw the new power, the new responsibilities, the new dangers he now faced. She saw the earnest pleading in his eyes. He wasn't asking; he was stating a necessity.
"My son," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Alright. We will come. For you, and for our safety."
Eric hugged her tightly, a profound sense of relief washing over him. His family, safe. His village, saved. And his future, stretching out before him, vast and powerful. The Wyvern's victory was a symbol of his strength, but also a stark reminder of the greater dangers lurking in the world. He would continue to grow, to reach new heights, for them all.