The tremendous power of Kido left Yamile and Zhao frozen in place, their bodies trembling violently and their eyes filled with fear. In front of them, a massive fireball surged forward, its heat searing their skin. If it hit them, their bodies would be incinerated into ashes.

There was no other option—they had to dodge or fight back with the power of Niroki. But time was running out. A decision had to be made in an instant, because a second too late could mean death. The tension was at its peak, and their lives hung in the balance in this deadly battle against Kido’s terrifying power.

But fear overwhelmed Yamile and Zhao, clouding their thoughts. Even Yamile, who possessed Niroki's power, was paralyzed. Her eyes were fixed on the incoming fireball, her body weakened, and her trident fell to the ground.

Unconsciously, Yamile’s palm touched the earth. In that moment, she sensed water beneath the ground. Suddenly, she remembered her power to control water. Though fear had gripped her before, courage now surged within her, ready to strike back.

With all her might, she drew water from the ground. Within seconds, a huge wave of water surged up like a tsunami ready to sweep away everything in its path.

Yamile immediately directed the wave to neutralize the fireball. As the two forces clashed, a thick white steam exploded into the air—caused by the collision of heat and cold. The area was instantly blanketed by the dense smoke, severely limiting their visibility.

“We’re safe...,” Yamile murmured, panting heavily from exhaustion.

Once again, Niroki appeared, taking control of Yamile’s body.

“Zhao, you haven’t unleashed the power of the black sword. That sword is a demon sword, so when you strike, make sure your intent is to kill your enemy. Don’t be too kind to your foes,” he said firmly.

Zhao was stunned, glancing at Yamile beside him, then looking down at the black sword in his hand.

“If you don’t use that sword to kill, you’ll die here,” Niroki added before vanishing. Yamile came to her senses.

His words pierced the fear shrouding Zhao’s heart. For some reason, courage returned to him, and he was ready to fight again. He gripped the black sword tightly, now filled with the desire to kill his enemy.

“Are you okay?” Yamile asked, concerned for her brother.

“Yes,” Zhao answered firmly, his eyes sharp with determination.

“You handle the fire man. I’ll take care of the two bald guys,” Zhao added.

The thick white steam still engulfed the battlefield, but Yamile and Zhao were ready. They split up and ran toward their respective enemies.

Yamile dashed to the left and leaped high, piercing through the smoke. She thrust her hands downward, summoning the scattered water from the ground. A swirling vortex of water formed around her. It then transformed into thousands of shuriken—thin, razor-sharp blades.

In the next moment, Yamile launched the shuriken downward, targeting Kido and his two guards. But once again, her attack was stopped by an invisible shield. The water shuriken shattered upon impact.

As Yamile’s attack ended, Kido suddenly leapt into the air to strike back. He launched a barrage of fireballs. Yamile summoned her trident to slash them apart.

But it was only a decoy. Kido appeared from behind the fireballs and launched a flaming kick at Yamile.

Yamile was momentarily shocked but reacted quickly. She used her trident to block the kick. Though it didn’t land directly, the force of the strike still knocked her back to the ground.

Meanwhile, as the smoke began to clear, Zhao kept attacking Kido’s two bald guards. But he couldn’t penetrate their invisible shield.

The two guards stood side by side. One stood motionless, staring ahead, while the other watched Zhao’s every move.

Suddenly, the watchful one attacked—leaping forward and delivering a powerful double kick. Zhao had predicted the move and blocked it with his arms.

“So strong...,” Zhao muttered, struggling to withstand the blow. Even so, he was thrown back, just like Yamile earlier.

Now the smoke had cleared. Their vision was no longer obstructed. The battle was about to grow even more brutal.

The two bald guards attacked Zhao simultaneously. Strangely, they moved with both legs together, as if bound tightly and unable to separate.

Their jumping speed was incredible. They leaped high, preparing to strike with their legs like missiles.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Zhao kept running to dodge them. The strikes were so powerful they left deep craters in the ground. Again and again, the two jumped and struck like missiles.

“They’re not giving me a chance to counterattack,” Zhao said in frustration.

Then, he made a bold decision. Suddenly, he stopped running. One of the bald men had jumped high and was about to dive down at him.

Zhao gripped his sword tightly, ready to strike. His rage awakened the true power of the black sword. A dark aura surrounded it.

As the bald attacker descended, Zhao launched a powerful slash. A black wave cut through the air—striking the man. In an instant, his body was split in two, blood spraying everywhere.

“Nathan!” the other bald man shouted in horror.

Kido was stunned, unable to believe that his personal guard had been killed in a single strike.

“Damn it!” he snarled.

Yamile was thrilled by Zhao’s success. “Great job, Zhao!” she shouted.

“Now it’s my turn,” Yamile whispered, charging toward Kido.

Kido realized what she was doing and raised his left hand, pointing at something.

“Marten...,” Yamile gasped, stopping in her tracks.

Marten was still clinging desperately to the hanging post. But his body was exhausted, his balance faltering. The small chair beneath him wobbled dangerously.

Yamile panicked. She turned her focus to Marten and ran to save him.

But Kido wasn’t about to let her. Fire ignited on his fingertip, and in an instant, he shot a flame at Marten. The fire struck him, causing him to cry out in pain and lose his balance.

The small chair toppled over, and now Marten was fully hanging from the noose. Pain gripped him as the rope tightened around his neck. He writhed, struggling to break free.

Biacca, standing below him, could only cry. Her body was tightly bound by rope, leaving her powerless. All she could do was watch her dear friend suffer, now on the brink of death.

“Marten!” Yamile and Zhao shouted together.