Volume 1: Bo'an Awakening & The Calamity Storm
Chapter 58
Shattering the Armor Artifact
BOOM——!!
The deep-crimson pillar of fire roared like a ravenous dragon breaking free from its cage. Tearing through the chilled, moisture-laden air with an ear-piercing shriek, it slammed dead-center into Han Yi’s chest!
A deafening detonation erupted, sounding as if two thousand-ton meteors had collided in midair. The massive granite floor of the dueling platform beneath Han Yi’s boots shook violently. Spiderweb fractures rippled out madly in all directions from the point of impact, while slabs of shattered stone crumbled under the terrifying pressure into a fine powder, billowing wildly within scorching waves of blistering heat.
A mere fraction of a second earlier, the smile plastered across Han Yi’s face had still radiated supreme arrogance and disdain. In the mind of a scion nurtured with mountains of Magic Crystals by the greatest clan in Bo’an City, the Fire magic of a destitute beggar like Lin Feng amounted to nothing more than a child’s harmless tickle. Moreover, he was wearing the Glacial Silkworm Armor Artifact—a high-grade defensive treasure worth millions of magic coins, personally bestowed upon him by Ling Zhuofeng to guarantee an absolute, unassailable victory.
The armor encasing his torso was woven from the silk of thousand-year-old Glacial Silkworms native to the summits of frozen mountain peaks, densely inscribed with azure magical runes that sparkled like polished jade. Even a direct strike from Novice Tier Level 3 magic would barely cause the frost-silk weave to ripple.
Yet that blind confidence lasted for scarcely the span of a single heartbeat.
HISSSSS——!!
The first layer of the flame’s devastating power erupted without warning.
This was not the ordinary bright-red blaze of standard Novice-tier Scarlet Flame. This was the “Dual-Fold Burst”—a thermal force born of seven Fire Star Cores tempered to Tier 4 with the Soul Essences of savage beasts! Its blistering heat shattered all conventional limits, rocketing past twelve hundred degrees Celsius!
The searing heat was intense enough to warp the surrounding space. The instant the deep-crimson blaze made contact, the protective icy mist shrouding the magic armor evaporated into nothingness. The delicate, pale-blue frost threads of the Glacial Silkworm Armor Artifact had no chance to disperse the incoming mana before they burst into furious flames. Thick, pungent black smoke billowed upward in choking plumes, engulfing half the dueling platform in a murky shroud.
Under the blast-furnace heat, the dark-iron plates protecting Han Yi’s torso flushed from deep azure to glowing pink, and then turned incandescent red—like embers freshly plucked from a subterranean forge!
The monstrous thermal energy bypassed the insulating beast-hide lining entirely, searing straight into Han Yi’s chest.
“AH... AHHH-AAAAGH——!!”
A bloodcurdling, throat-tearing shriek echoed throughout the entire central colosseum!
Han Yi’s handsome, arrogant features twisted into a grotesque grimace of agony. His eyeballs bulged from their sockets, crisscrossed by a lattice of ruptured, bloodshot capillaries. The bone-deep torment struck so abruptly that it short-circuited his entire nervous system. The armor that had once been his absolute pride, his impenetrable aegis, had in this moment turned into an iron furnace cooking its own master alive!
Every inch of flesh beneath the armor sizzled and blistered. The skin across his chest split open, and rendering body fat hissed against the red-hot metal plates. The foul, nauseating stench of scorched flesh rode the sweltering gusts straight into the grandstands, invading the nostrils of thousands of petrified spectators.
Han Yi clawed frantically at his chest, his fingernails tearing deep bloody furrows into the skin of his throat as he tried to rip the armor from his body. But once activated, a Magic Artifact bonded with the caster’s circulating mana and bloodline; how could it be stripped off in an instant?
“Stop! Save me... Save me, Patriarch!!”
Han Yi wailed in utter desperation, his rasping voice choked by agonized sobs.
Yet for him, the true nightmare had only just begun.
Fifteen meters away, Lin Feng stood motionless, his right arm still leveled straight ahead. Beneath the frayed collar of his school uniform, the corner of his lips curved into a smile as cold and razor-sharp as a honed blade.
He had endured in silence for two full years. He had swallowed the sneers and ridicule of aristocratic scions, watched his aging father Lin Hai bow his head before the Ling Clan just to plead for a chance for him to attend magic high school, and witnessed the crippled legs of his little sister Xiao Mo tormenting her day and night. For two scorching summer months, he had waded through filthy subterranean sewers, bathing in the foul blood of savage beasts just to harvest every scrap of Soul Essence to temper his Star Cores. Did they truly think all that suffering was meant to produce an ordinary flame?
“My Scarlet Flame... possesses two layers of power,” Lin Feng’s low voice cut through the roaring flames, each word ringing with crystal clarity. “The first is extreme heat. The second... is Rupture!”
The moment the words fell, Lin Feng’s open palm snapped shut into a fist!
Tick... tick... KA-BOOOOM——!!
Deep within the swirling crimson pillar hammering Han Yi’s chest, a pinpoint of blood-red radiance abruptly contracted to the size of a pea. Then, in a hundredth of a second, it detonated with the cataclysmic fury of a concentrated thunder-fire shell!
The concussive, expansive explosive property—the Rupture effect—amassed deep within Tier 4 Scarlet Flame had officially detonated!
A spherical, crimson shockwave tore through the air, sweeping across the platform. The ground beneath their feet was torn to shreds; massive granite slabs weighing hundreds of pounds were hurled into midair, only to shatter into tens of thousands of jagged shrapnel fragments that rained down like hail.
At the epicenter of the detonation, a crisp, horrifying crack reverberated through the colosseum:
CRACK... CRACK... SHATTER——!!
The Glacial Silkworm Armor Artifact—the masterpiece of defense that Ling Zhuofeng had boasted about to Bo’an City’s upper crust—spiderwebbed with thousands of glowing crimson cracks. The azure magical runes shattered into fragmented sparks. And then, with an ear-splitting bang, the entire suit of armor exploded into countless crystalline shards, spraying in every direction like shattered glass!
His final shield had disintegrated entirely.
The concussive shockwave, laden with raging flame, slammed squarely into Han Yi’s defenseless body. His entire chest caved inward in a massive indentation, the sickening crunch of snapping ribs clearly audible even amidst the deafening blast.
WHOOSH——!!
Han Yi’s bulky frame was launched skyward like a kite with a severed string caught in a tempest. He hurtled through the air for more than thirty meters, piercing the thick curtain of smoke and dust as he rocketed toward the fortified granite perimeter wall at the edge of the arena!
CRASH——!!
A heavy, bone-jarring impact shook the eastern stands.
Han Yi slammed spine-first into the meter-thick granite wall. The catastrophic force carved a deep, man-shaped crater into the masonry, sending fissures snaking all the way up to the second-floor railings as stone dust showered down like rain.
“Cough... blargh...”
Han Yi’s limp form slid slowly down the fractured rock face, collapsing onto the gouged ground with a dull thud like a sack of damp rags.
His entire body was charred black like a rotten log hauled from a forest fire. His expensive silk combat robes had burned away to nothing, leaving only ragged scraps fused to scorched, raw, blistered flesh. Wisps of black smoke still curled from the sunken crater of his chest.
Han Yi lay sprawled across the stone, jaw slack, coughing up mouthfuls of dark clotted blood laced with mangled visceral fragments that dyed the cold granite a gruesome scarlet. His eyes rolled back into his head, showing only whites. His pupils twitched weakly through final, violent spasms before his eyelids fluttered shut and his head slumped sideways—completely unconscious!
Blood oozed from his lips and lacerated wounds, mingling with the blackened soot to paint a harrowing, suffocating tableau of ruin.
The sprawling central colosseum, packed with over five thousand people, plunged into dead, absolute silence.
Not a single cheer. Not a single whisper. Not even the sound of a heavy breath.
The entire amphitheater fell so quiet that one could hear the dry wind whistling through the jagged fissures in the stage floor, and the faint crackle of dying embers inside pools of half-melted stone.
Up in the VIP pavilion, where the most powerful figures of Bo’an City congregated, the atmosphere grew so thick it felt as though all oxygen had been vacuumed away.
Ling Zhuofeng—who only moments before had reclined in relaxed leisure, a mocking smirk etched onto his lips with the unshakeable supremacy of a ruler—now froze completely solid.
His fingers turned rigid. The priceless blue-and-white porcelain teacup slipped from his grasp, hurtling toward the granite floor:
SMASH!
The brittle shatter of porcelain echoed jarringly within the graveyard hush. Scalding tea splashed across Ling Zhuofeng’s polished leather boots and the gold-embroidered hem of his silk robe, yet he seemed entirely oblivious to it.
The eyes of the most influential man in the city bulged so wide his eyelids seemed on the verge of tearing, streaked with savage networks of bloodshot veins. His fingers clamped onto the ironwood armrest with such brutal force that the dense timber groaned and cracked.
The Glacial Silkworm Armor Artifact! It was an heirloom treasure he had acquired at immense personal cost and effort from an Artifact Master in the capital! He had bestowed it upon his foster son Han Yi to ensure beyond all doubt that this year’s sole cultivation slot at the Spirit Well Tower belonged to the Ling Clan—to ruthlessly extinguish the hopes of anyone daring to challenge the clan’s supremacy.
Yet that artifact worth millions of magic coins... had been incinerated and blasted into dust by the flame of an impoverished student?
“No... This is impossible... Absolutely impossible...”
Ling Zhuofeng muttered beneath his breath, his voice trembling and raspy, barely audible even to himself. His complexion drained from ruddy to deathly pale, and then darkened to a mottled, livid purple like bruised liver. The muscles in his cheeks twitched uncontrollably, his chest heaving under a tempest of rage and disbelief.
Behind him, Ling Bai and Li Peng had collapsed onto the floor without even realizing it.
Ling Bai trembled violently, his hands clutching the fabric of his trousers so tightly that his nails dug into his palms until blood welled, yet he felt no pain. His lips were completely drained of color, his teeth chattering against each other in rapid, uncontrolled clicks.
He had always viewed Lin Feng as a thorn in his side—a piece of trash who got lucky awakening Fire, but who remained a lowlife unfit to carry the shoes of clan nobility. Yet looking down at the devastated wasteland of the platform, looking at Han Yi—a Novice Tier Level 3 Ice mage armed with Magic Armor, someone Ling Bai himself had always feared—now lying motionless like a charred corpse, an icy chill surged from the soles of Ling Bai’s feet straight to the crown of his skull, paralyzing every limb.
If he had been the one standing before that crimson pillar of fire just now... by this point, he would have been reduced to nothing more than a handful of ash!
Beside him, Li Peng was terrified out of his wits, pissing straight through his pants. An acrid stench rose between the VIP seats, yet no one bothered to notice or scold him; everyone was transfixed, their souls ripped away by the sheer shock of what had unfolded below.
“Heavens above... Was that truly Scarlet Flame?!”
In the section reserved for the faculty of Feng Lan High School, Teacher Kang Mu gripped the iron railing with white knuckles, leaning halfway out into the open air. The veteran Fire instructor’s eyes bulged to their limits, his lips trembling, speechless.
As an Intermediate-tier Fire Mage, he had spent his lifetime watching thousands of students cast Scarlet Flame. But how could ordinary Scarlet Flame achieve temperatures hot enough to liquefy solid granite? How could it unleash such an earth-shattering concussive burst that it ripped Magic Armor to shreds?
“Star Cores... Could it be that this kid reached a Star Mutation, or... did he use Soul Essences to temper his Stars?!”
The moment that insane thought crossed his mind, Kang Mu’s heart drummed wildly against his ribs like a war drum. Star tempering! That was a privilege reserved for filthy-rich high-tier mages or daredevil hunters braving the untamed borders! How could a youth from the South Street slums ever touch such a realm?
Not far away, in the box reserved for the Cang Lei Ridge border garrison, Commander Lei Zhen suddenly burst into booming laughter.
BAM!
He slammed a heavy, calloused hand against the wooden railing, sending cigarette ash flying from his lips. The sharp, weather-beaten eyes of the veteran officer, forged through hundreds of blood-soaked battles, blazed with unfiltered excitement.
“Good! Splendidly fought! Damn it all, what a gorgeous blast!”
Lei Zhen threw his head back and laughed uproariously, his booming baritone echoing across the VIP stands like a ringing slap across the faces of the petrified Ling Clan nobles. Resting his hands on his knees, he stared intently at the youth standing in the ring, his mouth curving in raw admiration:
“So what if he had Magic Armor? Before absolute firepower, that scrap iron is nothing more than a pressure cooker stewing meat! That kid... damn it, he’s a downright monster!”
Down in the common stands reserved for ordinary citizens and lower-year students, the dead hush detonated like a powder keg touching an open flame!
“WE WON!! LIN FENG WON!!”
Zhang Hu—Fatty Hu—screamed until his voice cracked. His round, two-hundred-pound frame leaped atop the wooden bench, pumping both chubby fists into the air, tears and snot streaming down his flushed face in sheer delirium:
“Long live Lin Feng! He smashed the Ling Clan dogs to pieces! Hahaha! You see that?! Who said us common folk could never defeat the aristocratic clans?! Look at that! Open your dog eyes and look!!”
Fatty Hu’s roar was the spark that breached the dam, unleashing a tidal wave of hysteria from thousands of common students and working-class citizens of Bo’an City. Applause, thunderous cheers, and piercing whistles erupted like rolling thunder, shaking the very sky of the dusk:
“Lin Feng! Lin Feng! Lin Feng!”
Amidst that sea of screaming bodies, tucked away in a dim corner of the very back row, sat a middle-aged man with weathered, sun-darkened skin. Still wearing his faded, threadbare driver’s jacket, he sat silently, gripping his rough knees with trembling hands.
It was Lin Hai.
An aging father who had spent his life hunching under heavy freight, hauling magi-trucks along the lethal switchbacks of Cang Lei Pass, who had once knelt in humiliating supplication before the gates of the Ling Manor just so his son might have a chance to enter the halls of magic... At this moment, his shoulders shook uncontrollably. Scorching tears streamed down his furrowed, wrinkled cheeks, dripping onto calloused hands crisscrossed with scars.
His son... the little boy raised in a leaky attic in the South Street slums... had stood atop the highest peak of this city today, trampling the bloated pride of those who had treated father and son like worthless dirt!
Out on the arena floor, the dense, ash-gray pall of smoke and pulverized dust began to dissipate with the cold, sweeping breeze.
The haze cleared, laying bare the chilling devastation of Duel Platform Number One.
The ancient, supposedly indestructible granite surface was gouged with deep, jagged craters and blackened by the glassy slag of melted rock. Thousands of glittering shards from the Glacial Silkworm Armor Artifact lay strewn across the field, reflecting the blood-red sunset that bled across the western mountain ridge.
And standing squarely in the epicenter of that ruined expanse, a single figure remained upright.
Lin Feng stood there, ramrod straight like a battle lance planted deep into the earth. His ash-gray, coarse-woven student uniform of Feng Lan High School rippled gently in the swirling gusts of heated cinders.
His right hand, which had just unleashed that lethal strike, hung relaxed by his hip. The last stray crimson embers hissed softly and extinguished between his slender fingers. He bore not a single scratch; his breathing remained steady, eerily calm, as if that cataclysmic devastation had been nothing more to him than casually brushing away a fly.
No one knew that deep within the youth’s spiritual sea, his violet-black Lightning Stardust still slumbered silently, having never released even a single arc of electricity.
A single Tier 4 Scarlet Flame... was more than enough to crush everything in his path!
Lin Feng’s pitch-black eyes, deep and unfathomable as an ancient pool, slowly lifted. His gaze, as cold and keen as a sword drawn from its scabbard, swept across the entire colosseum. He looked past the deafening adulation of the multitude, past the petrified horror of the high-ranking officials...
Until finally, his eyes locked dead upon the center of the VIP pavilion.
He stared straight into the twitching, ashen face of Ling Zhuofeng.
The gaze of an impoverished youth from the dark alleys of South Street now weighed upon the soul of the city’s supreme patriarch like an immovable, towering mountain!
The graduation duel had concluded in absolute destruction! And the humiliating debt of the past... it was time to settle it in full!