"No, this can't be. He shouldn't have this kind of power in a lower realm like this," Gael stammered, his eyes wide with shock.
John smiled, his serpentine eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he saw the fear on Gael's face. "Don't be surprised that I have exceeded the cultivation limit of this plane without being kicked out," he said, his voice dripping with smugness. He crossed his arms over his chest, his stance relaxed but confident. "But I don't intend to use this power to fight you.
That would be bullying, and one thing I've learned from the boss is not to bully those weaker than me."
"Humph," Lothar scoffed, stepping forward with a predatory glint in his eyes. His aura flared, a palpable wave of power radiating from him. The ground beneath him seemed to tremble under the weight of his presence. "Do you think that your measly cultivation of an Astral Emperor will save you?" He sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.
"You need to wake up to reality because I'm about to show you why cultivators after the True Immortal Realm are advised not to confront those of higher realms."
John's smile didn't waver. "Is that so?" he said, his tone mocking. "Let's see if your reality matches up to your arrogance."
Lothar's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he released his full aura, revealing the terrifying power of a Divine Ascendant Realm cultivator. The air around him crackled with energy, distorting the space with its intensity. His muscles tensed, ready to strike, his gaze locked on John like a predator eyeing its prey.
John's smile grew even wider, his confidence unwavering in the face of Lothar's display. "Bring it on," he said softly, his voice a dangerous whisper.
Gael, standing a few paces behind Lothar, clenched his fists, his body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. He knew this battle would be unlike any he had ever witnessed, and the outcome would be far from certain.
Lothar glanced at Hera, who met his gaze with a fierce intensity. The two nodded in silent agreement, their years of teamwork making words unnecessary. In perfect synchrony, they launched themselves at John, their movements swift and deadly.
"Shadow Strike!" Lothar shouted, his body becoming a blur of darkness as he disappeared from sight, reappearing behind John in an instant. His hands morphed into shadowy blades, aiming for John's vital points.
"Wrathful Blitz!" Hera roared, her hair flaming like a burning inferno. She charged at John with incredible speed, her fists glowing with a fiery aura that promised devastating destruction.
John's smile never faltered. With his **Flawless Precognition**, he saw their attacks before they even began. He sidestepped Lothar's shadowy blades with ease, his movements fluid and unhurried. At the same time, he raised his arm to meet Hera's blazing fists.
"Poison Fist!" John called out, his hand glowing with a sickly green light. His punch met Hera's with a resounding clash, the poison in his fist neutralizing some of her fiery power. Hera's eyes widened in shock as she felt her strength waning.
Lothar, undeterred, melded into the shadows again. "Darkness Ensnare!" he intoned, and tendrils of darkness erupted from the ground, wrapping around John's legs and arms, seeking to immobilize him.
John smirked. "Decay" he whispered, his body glowing with an ethereal light. The dark tendrils withered and crumbled to dust, unable to withstand the power of his ability. He turned his gaze to Lothar, his serpentine eyes gleaming with amusement.
Hera, undeterred, aimed a fiery punch at John's head. But John was already a step ahead. He caught her wrist in mid-air, his grip like iron.
"Poison Touch," he said, and Hera gasped as she felt a burning sensation spread from his touch, her strength rapidly draining away.
John released her, and she staggered back, her legs barely holding her up. "You... monster," she spat, her eyes blazing with hatred.
John chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. "You have no idea," he replied. He turned his attention back to Lothar, who was struggling to stand.
"Let's end this, shall we?" John said, his voice devoid of any mercy.
Lothar's eyes widened in fear as John raised his hand, summoning his **Life and Death Manipulation**. A dark, swirling energy formed around his hand, pulsating with malevolent power.
"Life Drain," John intoned, and the dark energy shot towards Lothar, enveloping him. Lothar screamed as his life force was siphoned away, leaving him a withered husk on the ground.
Hera, barely conscious, watched in horror as her comrade fell. She tried to muster the strength to attack, but her body refused to obey.
John walked towards her, his expression cold. "It's over," he said, placing a hand on her forehead. "Omni-Healing."
A green light enveloped Hera, and for a moment, she felt relief as her wounds began to heal. But then she realized the truth—John was healing her only to prolong her suffering.
"Why...?" she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
John leaned in close, his eyes devoid of compassion. "Because I want you to understand the futility of your actions," he said softly. "And to serve as a warning to others."
With that, he withdrew his hand, and Hera collapsed to the ground, her spirit broken.
The battlefield was eerily quiet, the tension in the air dissipating as the dust settled. John stood tall, his serpentine eyes surveying the scene. Lothar lay motionless, his body drained of life. Hera was barely conscious, her spirit shattered by the overwhelming force of John's power.
John took a deep breath, his aura gradually calming. He turned to look at Gael, who was trembling in fear, and smiled faintly. "You can go back to your father," he said, his voice steady and cold. "Tell him that if he wants something done, he should do it himself. Not that it would make much of a difference, but it might make things a bit easier for his underlings."
"And oh, I will be taking her with me," John added with a smirk. "She has more use in the Primordial Chaos Sect than in your father's hands." With that, he reached out, gripping Hera by the arm. In an instant, they vanished, leaving Gael standing alone, his fear turning to frustration and helplessness.