The mountain trembled.
Not from impact.
Not from force.
From repetition.
From collision.
From two existences—
Refusing to fall.
Han Chandu stood.
Breathing controlled.
But heavier.
Blood flowed.
From shoulder.
From arm.
From chest.
Warm.
Steady.
Real.
Across from him—
The Golden Jade Lion remained.
Unbroken.
Unyielding.
Golden blood—
Flowing.
Less.
But visible.
Silence.
For a moment.
Between them.
No movement.
No attack.
Only observation.
Han Chandu's eyes remained calm.
Because now—
Everything was clear.
Super—
Was not something to defeat quickly.
Not something to overwhelm.
It was something—
To break.
The lion moved.
Again.
Faster than before.
Stronger.
No hesitation.
No testing.
Only intent.
Kill.
It vanished.
Then—
Claw descended.
Han Chandu moved.
Minimal.
Clean.
But not untouched.
The claw tore across his side again.
Reopening the wound.
Deeper.
Blood spilled.
He stepped forward.
Not back.
Because retreat—
Was failure.
Blade formed.
Strike.
Same leg.
Same wound.
Impact landed.
Deeper.
Golden blood burst out.
Heavier.
More than before.
The lion roared.
Louder.
More violent.
The mountain cracked further.
Han Chandu didn't stop.
Didn't hesitate.
Second strike.
Same point.
The wound widened.
The lion's leg—
Shifted again.
Balance—
Unstable.
A moment.
Small.
But critical.
Han Chandu moved.
Faster.
Cleaner.
Third strike—
The lion reacted.
Instantly.
Too fast.
Its claw slammed down.
Direct.
Han Chandu blocked.
Impact exploded.
Jade shattered beneath him.
His arm—
Shook.
Bones—
Strained.
A crack.
Not heard.
Felt.
His body slid back.
More than before.
Blood flowed.
More.
For the first time—
His balance—
Almost broke.
He stopped.
Barely.
Breathing—
Heavier now.
Controlled—
But strained.
His eyes remained calm.
Because now—
This was the breaking point.
Not of the lion.
Of him.
The lion stood.
Still stable.
Still dominant.
But not untouched.
Its leg—
Weakened.
Movement—
Slightly slower.
Han Chandu stepped forward.
Again.
Despite everything.
Because now—
Stopping meant death.
Dongxuan Sutra focused.
Everything sharpened.
Beyond before.
The lion moved.
Han Chandu saw it.
Before it happened.
A fraction earlier.
Enough.
He stepped.
Inside.
Closer.
Safer.
Blade moved.
Not wide.
Not forceful.
Precise.
Directly into the open wound.
Deep.
The blade sank.
Further than before.
Golden blood—
Exploded outward.
The lion roared.
Violent.
The mountain shook.
Its body twisted.
Claw swung.
Han Chandu couldn't fully dodge.
Impact hit.
Direct.
His body flew.
Across jade.
Sliding.
Stopping only after distance.
Silence.
He lay still.
For a moment.
Then—
Moved.
Slowly.
He stood.
Unsteady.
But standing.
Blood covered him.
Red.
Mixed with gold on the ground.
Across from him—
The lion remained.
But different.
Its leg—
Damaged.
Movement—
Impaired.
For the first time—
It was not dominant.
Han Chandu exhaled.
Slow.
Because now—
The difference had been created.
Not victory.
Not yet.
But a crack.
In something that should not crack.
He stepped forward.
Again.
Because now—
The fight had changed.