Rylan’s draconic talons were laced with hair-fine cuts. Blood trickled between scales and hissed wickedly when it struck the hot stone.

His aura turned ragged—Dragon Transformation burned energy faster than he could draw it—while Jared’s aura remained as steady as before the duel started.

“Impossible! No way are you only Earthly Immortal Realm Level One!” Rylan roared, crimson pupils flaring.

He could not accept that a mixed-blood Draconian at Earthly Immortal Realm Level Eight was being manhandled in raw combat by an Earthly Immortal Realm Level One cultivator.

Jared brushed a thin ribbon of blood from his lip; the last claw strike had landed, yet the scratch felt as trivial as a paper cut.

“Cultivation level is a measuring stick, not the whole of strength,” Jared said, voice cold enough to frost steel. “You parade Earthly Immortal Realm Level Eight yet never learned to wield real power. Your defeat is earned, not stolen.”

“Bullsh*t!” Rylan spat.