With Zhao Kun's defense on the verge of collapse, Li Hao seized the momentum completely, refusing to give even a moment of recovery, as he pushed forward with relentless precision, each step carrying the weight of everything he had endured to reach this point.
Zhao Kun roared in defiance, gathering the last of his strength as the Xuanwu phantom condensed tightly around his body, forming one final defensive barrier, his pride refusing to accept defeat even as the cracks deepened under the pressure.
But Li Hao's expression remained calm.
Focused.
Unshaken.
Raising his sword slowly, he began to gather all remaining energy into a single point, compressing both ice and lightning into one refined strike, the surrounding air distorting under the intensity of the power being formed.
The entire arena held its breath.
"End this," Li Hao said quietly.
Then—
He moved.
The strike descended like a falling star, carrying both the freezing stillness of ice and the destructive force of lightning, and when it collided with Zhao Kun's final defense—
It shattered completely.
The Xuanwu phantom broke apart.
And Zhao Kun's body was thrown backward.