Chapter 920: Resonance

The sound of that punch was deep and booming.

The Flame Herrscher's whole body was knocked back by that punch, stumbling a half step backward; the Flame on its chin shattered for an instant, revealing the dark‑red Ruler Core glint beneath the Flame's surface.

After steadying itself, it let out a sharp screech, swept its right arm back, and the Flame coalesced into a blazing sword constantly dripping lava, slashing straight down at Hua.

Hua raised her left arm to block; the flame sword struck the bulging muscle of her forearm, sparks flew, yet she didn't even furrow a brow.

At the same instant her left arm blocked, her right fist had already gathered force, her waist and hips twisted to deliver power, and a straight punch hammered the Ruler Core at the Herrscher's chest.

This punch was heavier than the previous one!

It was so heavy that the air at the pit's bottom was compressed by the punch wind into a visible spherical shockwave.

The Flame Herrscher's chest Flame was pierced by a hole; it let out a piercing screech, its whole body was slammed backward by the punch for over ten meters, and its feet carved two deep ruts in the molten ground.

Heimu stood beside a utility pole, watching the pit's battle, and unconsciously kicked a charred piece of rubble at his right foot.

Her mood was extremely complicated at that moment.

Rationally speaking, Hua was beating the Flame Herrscher outright, the battle was one‑sided, the effect obvious, indicating that her panel modification was indeed effective in combat.

Aesthetically, however, a two‑meter‑tall, muscular strongwoman was using sheer physical force to press a Herrscher‑level being into the ground, each punch sending visible shockwaves, the entire pit resembling a smashed boxing ring.

That scene was about a whole series of Baki's worth away from the hot‑blooded manga style she imagined—'a girl swinging a sword to cut through the past.'

Hua unleashed another punch.

This punch rose from below, striking the Herrscher's abdomen dead‑on.

The Flame Herrscher was knocked off its feet, its body flying diagonally like a struck baseball, crashing into the pit wall's rubble, which exploded outward, raising clouds of dust and sparks.

Hua gave it no chance to recover.

She took long strides forward, each foot sinking a deep pit, reached the rubble, extended her muscular arm, seized the Herrscher's ankle, and dragged it out of the debris.

Then, using herself as the pivot, she swung the Herrscher around half a circle and slammed it hard onto the ground.

Again she lifted it, again she smashed.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Left once, right once, left once!

The rhythm was as strong as some primal percussion.

Heimu watched Hua repeatedly slam a Flame Herrscher like a towel on the ground, then silently averted his gaze for a moment, looking toward the distant sky where data fault fissures were spreading.

The fissures were more numerous than before; some were wide enough to glimpse the black void beyond, their edges shedding tiny specks of light, like torn paper.

This world was indeed disintegrating.

Each of Hua's attacks accelerated the process, because her panel had been altered far beyond this Painted World's capacity; every punch forced the world to expend massive resources to compute the effect, and its resource pool was nearly depleted.

The Flame Herrscher struggled on the ground, trying to rise.

One arm had been shattered by the earlier slam, Flame spewing wildly from the break, the broken limb hanging limp at its side.

It propped itself with the other, its core emitting a resentful hum from within, two golden glints flickering violently in the Flame.

Hua stood before it, looking down.

She radiated heat, sweat seeping from the gaps in her muscles, instantly vaporizing into white steam that swirled around her muscular arms and broad shoulders.

Her expression remained that cold, calm stare, but there was light in her eyes.

She then stepped forward, her right arm tightening like a steel cable, the fist aimed at the dark‑red core exposed in the Flame fissure.

Meanwhile, the Flame Herrscher propped half its body up from the rubble, the flame at the broken arm still spewing out like a leaking gas pipe.

Those two golden glints were locked tightly onto Hua.

Although one of its legs had been deformed by the earlier ground slams and could no longer stand, its other hand was subtly probing the fissures beneath its body.

Its five fingers sank into the molten ground, Flame silently seeping underground, weaving an ever‑spreading scorching net beneath the surface.

The ground temperature rose sharply, tiny white smoke billowed from the rubble gaps, as if something was gathering power underground.

Hua stood about three steps away, her body steaming white vapor, muscular arms hanging at her sides, fists still clenched tight.

Her breathing was steady, ice‑blue eyes piercing through the steam, coldly staring at the Herrscher on the ground; the gaze was the calm state forcibly imposed by Heimu.

Immediately, the ground beneath Hua's feet erupted.

A swath of ground shattered like crushed chips, pierced simultaneously by several magma‑hot fire pillars; a dozen pillars erupted from below, radiating from Hua's feet, instantly engulfing her in an orange‑red flame vortex.

The flame lashing her emitted a harsh sizzle, the heat wave flinging the still‑burning rubble outward in all directions.

The Flame Herrscher seized the gap, leaping violently from the rubble.

The severed arm, after Flame was re‑infused, barely formed a shaky temporary structure; though thin, it could move.

It kicked its legs off the ground, the whole blaze soaring upward, rotating once in the air, its hands clasped overhead, coalescing a flame sword larger than before.

The sword's size defied reason, its blade about three to four meters long, blazing white with a golden hue, its edge constantly dripping magma‑like fire drops, each creating a fist‑sized crater upon impact.

Using the acceleration of its fall, it wielded the sword with both hands, slashing toward the very center of the flame vortex.

When the blade pierced the flame vortex, a sharp metallic clang rang out.

One of Hua's hands emerged from the flame, directly grasping the sword's blade.

Barehanded.

Her five fingers curled onto the scorching white blade, the contact erupting a burst of blinding white sparks, Flame gushing wildly from between her fingers, enveloping her palm in searing fire.

Yet her fingertips remained motionless, not even bending her wrist under the sword's impact.

The hand held the blade steadily, as if gripping a disobedient firebrand.

The flame vortex slowly dissipated around her, revealing her full figure.

Her school uniform remained intact; its quality could no longer be described as merely 'good'—surviving a direct flame vortex strike warranted classification as military‑grade protective material.

Her ash‑blue low ponytail was blown apart by the heat wave, her long hair streaming behind, the tips slightly curled from the high temperature.

There is a scrape on the face, probably caused by the splintered stones that flew up just now, but the wound's edges are already healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

She pulls forward the hand holding the sword blade, and the Flame Herrscher, body and sword together, is pulled off balance and lunges forward in the air.

Hua's other hand forms a fist, twists power from the waist, and a punch slams into the Herrscher's abdomen.