The battle between Yang Ying's thirteen forms and Helas raged from one street to the next, sweeping across seven or eight major avenues, reducing the buildings lining the thoroughfares to a sea of flame.

Fortunately, the citizens of Hammer City had all retreated to their air-raid shelters and been evacuated. If anyone was particularly unlucky and hadn't made it inside, Yang Ying could do nothing about it.

The fighting continued unabated. By Yang Ying's count, over thirty of his bodies had fallen. During this time, Helas had not once attacked Yang Ying's true body, which Yang Ying surmised was because Helas intended to capture him alive to extract the core intelligence of the Trane Mercenary Group.

"I see now. You possess soul-transfer technology, which is why you’ve been fighting me with thirteen bodies!" Having fought for so long, Helas had clearly pieced things together. "Your coordination is so seamless, it’s as if you are a single entity. Telepathy alone couldn't achieve this level; you must have unique methods for mental exchange as well."

The thirteen forms of Yang Ying remained silent, each wielding two silver swords, maintaining a defense while pressing the attack, surrounding Helas. The clash was brutal, yet the defensive circle formed by Helas’s light staff proved unbreakable. Despite being besieged from all directions, he remained unscathed.

"How are the new bodies acquired? Is it some advanced technique like spatial teleportation? The Trane Corporation is truly a treasure trove!"

With a roar, Helas suddenly erupted. His entire body ignited with searing flames, transforming into five entities as thick as great pythons—five colossal Flame Dragons—that plunged into the formation of Yang Ying's thirteen. The dragon heads, claws, and tails all became lethal weapons of flame. Furthermore, the fire composing the dragons' bodies had approached pure white, indicating a terrifyingly high temperature.

One dragon tail swept across the ground, producing a harsh, sizzling 'Zzz' sound. A wisp of blue smoke rose, and a deep gouge appeared in the pavement; the entire area swept over was instantly vaporized, leaving no trace behind.

These Flame Dragons were worlds apart from the fire Helas had previously unleashed with a mere glare; they inflicted injury on contact and guaranteed death upon impact. Yang Ying dared not delay. The thirteen forms immediately struck out at the dragons with their light swords. The swords could absorb energy, and even against such scorching flames, the temperature of the light sword blades was still vastly superior.

However, absorbing an entire Flame Dragon was not easy. The dragons seemed to come alive, twisting their bodies to evade the blades. These were dragons controlled by Helas, the Master of Fire Control. If it had been another Peak Master, they might have seized control of the dragon with psionics and absorbed it into the light sword without much trouble, but for Yang Ying's thirteen forms combined, their psionic power was no match for Helas's.

The Flame Dragons rampaged through the formation. After a few exchanges, the thirteen forms could not slay the dragons, and two bodies were directly vaporized. At that moment, Helas charged in, and Yang Ying felt the pressure multiply intensely.

Yang Ying summoned two more clones, only to see one body narrowly evade a pincer attack from three dragons, only to be instantly executed by a strike from Helas. A nearby figure tried to rush to the rescue but was blocked by a Flame Dragon, forced to watch helplessly as a body was split in two, its soul swiftly transferring into a clone waiting on the Floating Continent.

Not content with one kill, Helas pressed his assault on another form under the cover of the Flame Dragons. That body’s defenses were shattered in a few moves, and its head was cleanly severed by a strike from the staff.

Under Helas’s command, the five Flame Dragons ceaselessly cut and separated Yang Ying’s formation, creating opportunities for Helas to engage in isolated duels. For every body lost, Yang Ying replaced it, the forms advancing one after another, striking at the Flame Dragons with their light swords.

Under the immense pressure, watching the dragons rampage and the imposing Helas wielding his glowing staff, Yang Ying felt an inexplicable understanding dawn within him—a feeling beyond words that brought sudden enlightenment.

The light that illuminated the path of a Master reappeared before him, clearer than ever before. Yang Ying pierced through the mist and stepped onto this path.

Along the sides of the path came sounds and light—vivid, dynamic images. These were the sights, sounds, and thoughts from when Yang Ying had dispatched his clones on various patrols, now gushing forth like a spring. Insights began to filter in autonomously: what to keep, what to discard, what he desired, and what he rejected. It was like small streams converging into a river in his mind, then performing the great convergence of the Hundred Rivers flowing East to the Sea, synthesizing everything. Bit by bit, a brand-new spirit was nurtured. All of this happened in an instant, like lightning flashing through darkness, and Yang Ying attained sudden understanding!

In that instant, the movements of the thirteen forms shifted. Helas’s pupils contracted sharply. Within that single moment, the light swords in the hands of the thirteen forms traced distinct trajectories. Although the speed of their attacks showed no significant change compared to before, the five Flame Dragons were utterly annihilated in that same instant.

"They’re different, they are all different!" Helas flashed backward rapidly, retreating dozens of meters, his expression grave. With his eyesight, he could discern the instantaneous transformation of Yang Ying's thirteen forms—a change he found almost unbelievable. Twelve people! How could twelve suddenly reach the level of Sainthood! The number of Earthling Masters had increased by a quarter in that very moment!

"A feeling indescribable by words—this is what it is." Yang Ying felt as though his innermost being had been completely overturned. The entire world before him appeared fundamentally changed.

It was clearer, more transparent, more real. Light possessed richer layers of texture; he could even perceive the convection of air with varying densities. He could hear the wind blowing and the fire burning. Even sounds from afar, with focused attention, sounded as if they were right next to his ear.

An invisible shackle had been broken by an equally invisible force. His speed of thought advanced further, and his entire being felt detached from the constraints of the flesh, observing himself from a third-person perspective. Everything he had heard and seen since childhood, even events from infancy, was accessible if he willed it, playing out before his eyes—images, sounds, smells, tactile sensations, heat and cold—all experienced as if present in the flesh, rendered with minute perfection.

Yang Ying took a deep breath, sensing the void in his current psionic strength. Not long ago, he had felt his psionics had reached their limit.

Yang Ying understood: the previously full cup had merely become a bucket, and the small amount of water he had was probably just enough to cover the bottom.

He turned his gaze toward Helas, who stood dozens of meters away. The twelve clones moved to stand behind him.

"You... you all..." Helas pointed at the thirteen forms of Yang Ying, his voice filled with complex emotion. "Well done, Trane Mercenary Group. To achieve something so earth-shattering at a moment like this..."

Yang Ying glanced back in the direction they had fought, now a sea of fire dotted with dozens of fallen Blade Emperor bodies. He then turned back and said faintly, "Let's continue, and finish this battle."

"Wait!"

Helas paused, clearly calculating rapidly, though the deliberation lasted only a single breath. He slowly lowered his light staff to his side and deactivated the two light blades, stating, "I believe this battle should end today."

"On what grounds?" Yang Ying maintained his combat stance.

"You possess powerful military might, advanced military technology, secure and hidden bases, combined with the techniques I witnessed today—beast transformation, soul transfer, precise teleportation, light sword forging. I believe the Trane lineage has earned the qualification to become an independent power in the solar system. The Legion can redefine its relationship with you." Helas stated gravely.

"Is that what you have to say? I have heard you, and as the Commander of the Trane Mercenary Group, I formally reject the Trane's interest in redefining relations with the Ancient Legion."

The mental power of the twelve clones began to converge upon Yang Ying.

Helas raised his light staff, reactivating it with a sharp 'Zzla,' and said, "Very well, Yang Ying. Since you have become a Master and are determined to fight the Legion, I will not stand idly by. You possess soul transfer, but I will kill you. I want to see just how many bodies you have left!"

"One is enough to deal with you."

Yang Ying raised his hand, and with a flash of golden light, sent the twelve clones back to the Floating Continent. Simultaneously, the hilts of the silver swords held in his hands transformed in the golden light.

Yang Ying took a step forward, fully employing the lightning-elemental spells he had learned from the Protoss Templar and the Praetor. A colossal wave of raw energy suddenly erupted. A powerful aura of lightning burst forth from every pore of Yang Ying's body. His external exoskeleton, bio-armor, the bone wings on his back—everything was enveloped in dazzling electrical light.

Successive crackles of electricity burst forth, spreading with the energy wave. Rings of electrical ripples spread out across the ground where Yang Ying stood. The earth shuddered, unable to withstand the power, causing cracks to spiderweb outward from beneath Yang Ying’s feet, extending into the surroundings. Even a few roadside houses were affected, shattering into fragments and collapsing.

This was the manifestation of overflowing internal energy, a sight only achieved by a Master who had reached the Peak level, possessing such overwhelming power.

"He immediately reached the Peak Master level!" Helas had endured enough shock for one day, but witnessing Yang Ying, who was a Quasi-Master mere minutes ago, ascend in a few moments to become a Peak Master, was still difficult for him to accept.

The next moment, he met Yang Ying’s power with an opposing force of equal intensity. Roiling, roaring waves of heat sprayed outward, making it feel as if one were standing at the mouth of a volcano. The ground fractured, and houses tumbled down; Helas's imposing aura was even greater than Yang Ying's.

Zzla— Zzla—

Yang Ying activated the two light swords in his hands, revealing two golden blades. "Come, Helas! From this moment forward, this is a battle of Peaks!"