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Xiong Wen'an's mental state began to waver in the face of Wei Dong's calm demeanor, filled with confusion and unease. Why was this seemingly inconspicuous enemy able to so easily withstand his full-force attack? Was it all just an illusion? He felt a fear and self-doubt he had never experienced before, and this psychological turmoil started to affect his control over his magic.
Xiong Wen'an tried to concentrate again, channeling all his power into his hands. His palms began to radiate an unprecedented black light, one of the most powerful forbidden techniques of the Birdman Tribe. But at that moment, the doubts in his heart pierced him like a sharp knife, constantly stabbing at him. He began to question whether all this effort was truly worth it, whether he could really achieve his goals.
This psychological instability caused his magic to become unstable; what should have been a precise strike against Wei Dong now erupted chaotically around him. Xiong Wen'an's vision blurred, his heartbeat quickened, and with each pulse came a release of uncontrollable magic. He felt as if something within him was tearing apart, extreme pain spreading through every cell in his body.
Ultimately, when he attempted to unleash a final blow to end Wei Dong, the conflict within him reached its peak. His magic spiraled out of control, a powerful backlash surged back into his body, causing his blood vessels to rupture. Blood sprayed from his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. He collapsed to the ground, his body convulsing violently as the pain ravaged him like an army. His body twisted helplessly, each spasm bringing unbearable agony. Blood erupted from his mouth like shattered red flowers, spreading across the gray ground. The rampaging magic blurred his consciousness. In those final moments, he could only watch in despair as Wei Dong slowly approached, filled with unresolved questions and reluctance.
Xiong Wen'an lay on the ground in agony, looking up at Wei Dong as he walked closer. Each step felt like a heavy hammer striking at his soul. Wei Dong's presence loomed over him like the hand of a Buddha; no matter how he struggled, he could not escape that grasp. His body convulsed painfully on the ground as he tried to break free from these invisible shackles.
Wei Dong approached Xiong Wen'an, still writhing in pain. His figure loomed larger in Xiong Wen'an's eyes, like an insurmountable mountain. Wei Dong's expression remained calm, with a hint of barely perceptible sorrow in his gaze. His voice was deep and powerful, carrying an air of cold finality.
"Xiong Wen'an," he said, "in this world, there are indeed two types of people. One type is born strong; they need not prove anything and naturally stand at the pinnacle of the world. The other type is born weak; they must constantly struggle and prove themselves, yet even so, they cannot escape a life filled with setbacks and suffering."
His gaze locked onto Xiong Wen'an's contorted face as he continued, "You, Xiong Wen'an, possess the potential of a strong person. Your magic and your ambition should mold you into an immortal hero. However, your heart is not pure enough; your convictions are not steadfast enough. You have allowed your doubts and fears to weaken your strength, which has turned you once again into a weakling—a pitiful weakling."
Wei Dong clasped his hands together—not in mockery or disdain but as a final respect for his opponent. His voice carried a solemnity akin to that of a monk offering a last prayer. "What a pity, Xiong Wen'an; you have failed to transcend your shackles. Yet even so, I still pray for your courage and effort—may you find your peace."
This scene marked not only the end of the battle but also served as a final tribute to a once-promising warrior who ultimately failed due to inner hesitation.
In every word spoken by Wei Dong lay profound meaning and respect. He was not simply defeating an opponent; he was using the power of words to touch Xiong Wen'an's heart. A flicker of indescribable emotion began to well up in Xiong Wen'an's eyes—perhaps it was reflection on his past or hope for the future.
In that moment, Xiong Wen'an felt moved; he seemed to understand certain truths and sensed a hint of relief. His expression gradually softened as the pain in his eyes began to fade away, replaced by understanding and acceptance.
Wei Dong's words were like a profound revelation, allowing Xiong Wen'an to understand much. He was no longer a solitary warrior but a person with a clear purpose. Although this battle ended in his defeat, he found his value and direction within that failure.
Amidst the smoke of the battlefield, Xiong Wen'an's inner turmoil and struggle reached their peak. His body continued to stand, but his soul felt as if it had been torn in two. On one hand, as the last hope of the Birdman Tribe, he was acutely aware of his responsibilities and burdens; on the other hand, Boyev's attitude and Wei Dong's strength made him question what all his efforts and struggles were truly for.
Boyev's screams pierced his heart like a sharp blade, stabbing again and again. Each roar was not only a command but also a torment to his very soul. "Xiong Wen'an! You cannot give up! You are our pride, the last light of our people!" Boyev's words were filled with despair and manipulation, leaving Xiong Wen'an with an unprecedented sense of oppression.
Standing on the hazy battlefield, Xiong Wen'an took a deep breath, feeling as if he were a rock battered repeatedly by giant waves—exhausted and shattered. Each breath he took was laden with pain and fatigue; a flicker of confusion and seeking flashed in his eyes, as if he were asking himself: Was all this struggle, all these sacrifices truly worth it? Were his ideals and ambitions merely his own delusions?
As he sank deeper into self-doubt, memories of past battles flooded back to him—each fight for the freedom and dignity of his people. But now, he realized he was nothing more than a pawn in Boyev's hands; this realization filled him with deep humiliation and rage.
At that moment, Wei Dong's voice rang in his ears like the tolling of morning bells and evening drums, each word striking at his very soul. "Xiong Wen'an, your strength should not be used for the ambitions and greed of others. You must fight for yourself, for your true beliefs and ideals."
These words stirred a strong resonance within Xiong Wen'an's heart. He looked up at Wei Dong, and the confusion in his eyes gradually gave way to determination and clarity. His body stopped trembling as a new, pure strength surged from deep within him. In that moment, he decided to cast aside all burdens, to break free from Boyev's control, and to truly fight for himself. A bittersweet yet resolute smile crept onto his lips as he prepared to face this final battle.
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