Lava Eruption

The fist blade carved through the air, leaving blazing sword trails behind it, like a fire dragon twisting through the sky.

Ma Guohao kicked off Johnson’s chest in midair, rebounding backward to evade the enraged molten stone hammer.

Johnson’s body was scored with deep fissures by the flaming slashes, like an ancient tree charred by fire.

Steam poured off him, as if he had just stepped out of a sauna.

As Ma Guohao adjusted his posture with several aerial flips, Johnson did not let up.

While Ma Guohao retreated, Johnson swung both hammers, lowered his stance, and charged forward like a shell fired from a cannon.

At first, he had thought this kid was just some nameless nobody who popped out of nowhere.

But after several exchanges, he realized the truth.

Not only was the boy troublesome—he was vicious and decisive.

Johnson had no choice but to take him seriously.

By the time Ma Guohao landed and barely steadied himself, Johnson was already rushing toward him.

Ma Guohao inhaled sharply.

He clenched his right fist, planted his stance, and his gaze darkened.

Johnson was already hard to deal with due to his immense strength and sturdy body.

What made it worse was that the intense heat had effectively “warmed him up.”

His movements grew faster and more fluid.

The man who had been on the defensive was now keeping up with Ma Guohao’s speed—and counterattacking.

Johnson charged like a feral beast, giant hammer raised.

The hammer came down head-on, dragging scorching wind with it.

Ma Guohao did not dodge.

He gritted his teeth and thrust his flaming fist blade forward.

The blade flared brighter than ever, flames raging at thousands of degrees.

The metal was nearly melting as he met the blow head-on.

Blade and hammer collided.

A shrill metallic screech rang out, followed by a thunderous explosion.

Fire erupted outward.

Heat surged like a tidal wave.

The pressure cracked the ground beneath them, and the battlefield was washed in blinding white light.

The flash was so intense that even Red and He Zunyi, watching from afar, sensed the shift.

Red felt nothing in particular.

Back when Ma Guohao had gone berserk—fully mechanized, molten iron and flames everywhere—she had seen far worse.

This level of chaos barely registered.

She was currently using the suspended boulders like building blocks.

In the short time Ma Guohao had been gone, a crude stone arch had already risen from the ground.

On a mountain road at night, it was neither pretty nor useful.

Aside from safely placing those boulders with nowhere to land, it didn’t even serve as decoration.

He Zunyi, however, was different.

She had some martial experience and had seen a few things before, but witnessing something this massive from afar still terrified her.

“Red… is it really okay to let him go alone?”

“It’s fine.”

“If something actually happens, I’m still here.”

“But…”

He Zunyi looked toward the opposite cliff.

Under the lights nearby, Red looked almost amused.

Xia Yuhe was already strikingly beautiful as a rich young lady.

With He Zunyi’s worried expression layered on top, Red, as her “brother,” naturally made a certain association.

“Oh?”

“Are you worried~?”

“Absolutely not.”

—Back on the battlefield—

As Ma Guohao pulled back from the explosion, his fist blade retracted.

The mechanical components shifted and reassembled into his original arm—

Now glowing red-hot from the heat.

He braced his hands on his knees to keep from collapsing.

Sweat drenched his forehead.

He gasped for air, eyes locked forward.

The flames on his fist blade died out.

Sweat dripped onto his right hand and instantly vaporized into steam.

After repeated clashes, the heat had seeped into every inch of his muscles.

His blood felt like it was boiling.

Even breathing scorched his lungs.

His right hand trembled from the fire infusion.

Sweat hissed along his arm, turning into white mist before it could hit the ground, carrying a faint salty scent.

He knew it.

His body had reached its limit.

If he didn’t cool down, the next exchange would crush him completely.

Heatstroke.

Dehydration.

His vision blurred as he stared at the blazing inferno, desperately hoping Johnson would fall right there.

The flames burned fiercely across Johnson’s body.

The warmth filled him with a long-lost sense of exhilaration.

It reminded him of his early days in gang fights—

Weak, but intoxicating.

Fists against flesh.

Power clashing with power.

The stone hammer in his hand began to dissipate.

He was a brawler by nature.

He didn’t need such weapons.

He’d only formed it out of habit.

Now, he finally let it go.

Through the fire, he looked at the panting boy and asked,

“Kid.”

“I’m Johnson.”

“What’s your name?”

The flames gradually faded, revealing Johnson’s figure.

At this moment, he looked like a lava giant.

Magma-like veins coursed through his rocky muscles, glowing and flowing.

With each heavy step, molten droplets splashed down like sweat.

“I’m Ma Guohao.”

“Ah.”

“The nouveau riche’s son.”

Johnson sighed with genuine admiration.

“Didn’t expect you to be such a respectable warrior.”

“I haven’t fought like this in a long time.”

He extended his right hand toward Ma Guohao, as if plucking a ripe fruit.

“But it ends here.”

The boy was exhausted.

His hand clenched into a fist.

All the molten rock surged toward it, forming a massive circular hammer.

“Molten Burst Punch.”

Like a finishing blow already declaring victory, Johnson was certain the outcome would be decided by this strike.

But Ma Guohao rejected that declaration.

End?

This is the end?

Me?

What a joke.

My body hasn’t fallen.

My will hasn’t burned out.

I still have the strength to breathe.

How is this the end?

He forced his overheated body to move again, squeezing out what little strength remained.

His right arm transformed once more.

Multiple turbine fans emerged along his forearm and hand.

They spun at high speed, generating violent wind that propelled him forward while rapidly dissipating heat.

But that still wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

More power.

Even if it meant submitting to a demon.

Even if it meant becoming a monster.

He would win.

He would claim victory in this fight.

Fist met fist.

Stone and steel collided with a dull roar.

Ma Guohao staggered backward several steps before barely regaining his footing.

In a fleeting instant, wind pressure neutralized the molten impact.

It forced its way into the cracks, shredding and scattering the massive hammer.

Magma splashed outward, hitting the ground and cooling into darkened stone.

Johnson was driven back, bracing himself with his left hand against the earth.

His right arm was torn apart completely.

The stone shattered.

From the severed shoulder emerged something unexpected—

A pale, slender arm.

A human arm.

“So you still had power like this…”

Johnson’s voice was deep and steady, awe barely concealed.

Then he looked at Ma Guohao again—and froze.

Mechanical patterns had begun spreading across Ma Guohao’s cheek.

His left forearm and hand had also transformed into machinery.

“No.”

“It’s not that you’re stronger.”

“Your power weakened.”

It seemed that while Johnson had gained speed, the molten muscles had cost him raw strength.

Staring at the human arm exposed beneath the stone, Ma Guohao realized—

Inside that rock shell…

Was a man.

Some kind of armor.