Chapter 921: Ora

When that punch was thrown, a muffled "thud" echoed through the air.

The Flame Herrscher's body was hurled sideways by the punch, flipping several times in the air before being slammed into the wreckage of a bus overturned by the shockwave.

The bus's outer shell was dented into a massive humanoid crater, and all the windows shattered.

Hua gave it no chance to get back up.

She strode forward, scattering the broken stones beneath her feet, reached the bus wreckage, grabbed the Herrscher's ankle, pulled it out of the crater, then swung it up and slammed it onto the ground.

She swung it up again, slamming it onto the opposite side.

Left, right, left, right—so fast that continuous sonic booms rippled through the air, the ground shuddered violently with each strike, and the stones and ash were jolted up then fell back down.

Then she released her grip.

Not because she was done, but because she changed her stance.

Hua inhaled deeply, her biceps bulging like two slabs of granite.

Immediately, both fists launched a ferocious assault.

They hammered alternately, so fast that afterimages streaked through the air, striking the Herrscher's torso with pinpoint accuracy, each hit trailing a visible white gust.

"Ora!"

The sound ricocheted around the pit several times, shaking loose the stones on the pit walls.

Each punch ignited the Flame on the Herrscher into a burst of dazzling white light; the crack of the armor and the roar of the Flame blended together, completely drowned out by Hua's rapid‑fire roar.

Heimu stood beside a toppled utility pole in the distance, her hands still tucked in the pockets of her teacher's uniform.

Her posture shifted from the earlier casual lean to standing upright and watching, her ash‑gray low ponytail swaying gently in the distant gusts of punches.

Her dark‑purple eyes stared unblinking at the battle in the pit, which had far exceeded her expectations, a subtle expression playing on her face.

The Martial Arts Hall girl before her, whose panel Heimu had altered, was delivering a relentless turtle‑shell punch combo with no finesse, pounding a Herrscher pressed against the bus wreckage as if it were a sandbag.

Honestly, it's pretty hot‑blooded.

Heimu acknowledged that.

That pure outpouring of power, against the Apocalyptic Wasteland backdrop, produced a raw, coarse beauty.

She was about to shift her focus temporarily to the stability of the Painted World when a peripheral glance caught a flash of light at the right‑hand edge of the ruins.

It was a car light.

The headlamp of a black sedan glowed behind the pile of ruins, its beam laboriously cutting a path through ash and smoke.

The car emerged slowly from behind a half‑collapsed building, its tires crushing stones and broken glass; the chassis brushed a protruding rebar, emitting a harsh metallic screech.

Heimu turned her head, her dark‑purple eyes narrowing slightly.

That black sedan was the one driven by Kesi Mo.

The ice‑blue shoulder armor on the driver's seat still glimmered with a cold, hard sheen in the firelight, while the warm‑orange patterns on the fully enclosed helmet mask flickered at an extreme rate; Kesi Mo was probably scanning the battle scene at the pit's bottom, and the scan overloaded her processing chip.

In the rear windows, Kaluoer's white short hair and Ge Lei Xiu's ice‑blue hair each filled half the pane, both faces staring toward the pit.

Heimu watched the sedan creep forward at a very cautious pace, each wheel pausing briefly on a stone as if reflecting the driver's hesitation.

She withdrew her gaze, refocusing on the hulking woman pounding the Herrscher in the pit, her expression gradually returning to its original state.

She ordered Kesi Mo to take Ge Lei Xiu and Kaluoer north to the shelter on the far side of the river.

The command was crystal clear.

But the three not only didn't go; they drove back to the very center of the ruins, which was being repeatedly bathed in Herrscher‑level energy fluctuations.

Disobedient.

But she was too lazy to care now.

Hua was putting on an extremely abstract personal showcase in the pit; her panel data remained more stable than expected, and the Herrscher's energy index kept dropping.

These matters deserved her attention far more than scolding the three disobedient teammates.

The sedan eased to a halt beside Heimu, its engine still running, Kesi Mo's armored left hand still gripping the steering wheel.

The doors opened in succession, one after the other.

Kaluoer was the first to jump out, the neckline of her white off‑shoulder top askew, but she paid no mind to it.

Her golden eyes stared fixedly at the pit; the wheat‑colored complexion on her face paled visibly, then two abnormal red halos rose from the tip of her chin, her mouth forming a perfect circle.

She stood there, watching the two‑meter‑tall, muscle‑bound hulking woman in the distance who was battering a humanoid Flame with successive heavy punches; her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, lips moving several times before finally emitting a sound like a cat whose neck had been stepped on.

"Is that Hua?"

Heimu nodded.

Shock was normal.

The sixteen‑year‑old combat girl had just been rescued by Hua from a pile of Collapse Beasts, and her impression of Hua still lingered on the image of the cool older sister who smashed monsters with three punches in the alley.

Now, Hua, standing in the pit with a body swollen several times larger and delivering storm‑like punches, completely shattered the "cool senior sister" image Kaluoer had just formed in her mind.

"I, I, that, she, Hua, that—"

Kaluoer's fingers darted around the air, first pointing at Hua in the pit, then at the distant bus wreckage that had been smashed into a humanoid crater, as if trying to piece together a question her brain couldn't yet process: "How is she—those muscles—those fists—she wasn't like that before! When we were in the alley she clearly—she was cool punching monsters with a single blow, but now she can punch a whole building, right?!"

Her voice rose a full octave, but some instinct forcibly suppressed it, probably because she subconsciously feared that shouting would cause the hulking woman pounding the Herrscher to turn and glance at her.

Kesi Mo stepped out of the driver's seat.

Her armored footpads struck the broken stone floor with a muffled metallic clang, the fully enclosed helmet mask facing the pit, its warm‑orange patterns flashing several times faster than usual.

She stood there, the ice‑blue shoulder armor reflecting alternating light and shadow in the firelight, her cloak fluttering lightly in the heat.

She was watching.

She watched for a long time.

Then the helmet swayed slowly left and right.

"…Cool?"

The whole figure standing there turned into a silent ice‑blue statue.

Ge Lei Xiu was the last one to get off the carriage.