San Lang's eyes widened, but only for a breath.

  Then his expression twisted into fury.

  "You think this... mockery makes you worthy?" he roared, his voice reverberating through the elder hall.

  "It's an illusion! A cheap trick!"

  Without warning, he lunged—fangs bared, claws flashing as his massive black wolf form soared through the air, aimed to tear his brother down in front of the elders.

  But San Qi didn't flinch.

  In one swift motion, he raised a single hand—his fingers curved into a clawed seal, the space around him warping with pressure.

  Then—

  He whispered, not loud, but sharp as a blade:

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  "Bound soul, shattered moon—awaken the seal of Nine Ashes!"

  The air cracked.

  A sigil flared beneath San Qi's feet, ancient and glowing red-gold. His hand surged upward and caught San Lang by the throat—mid-air—suspending the giant wolf like he weighed nothing.

  Gasps erupted through the hall.

  San Lang snarled and flailed, but could not move. His limbs trembled under the crushing weight of spiritual force.

  San Qi's voice deepened—now layered with ancient tones not spoken for centuries.

  "First gate of spirit: Heaven-Sundered Palm—Fall."

  His free hand ignited with pulsing energy—runic veins glowing like molten ore up his arm. He slammed his palm into San Lang's chest.

  BOOM.

  A shockwave ripped through the room, blasting torches from their mounts and sending several elders stumbling back.

  San Lang howled—his body hurled across the chamber like a broken comet, crashing into the ceremonial wall and leaving a crater of fractured stone and scorched symbols.

  But San Qi wasn't done.

  His eyes glowed like the gods of judgment.

  He raised both arms, fingers etched with claw-marks of light.

  The hall darkened again as spectral mist began to swirl. Whispering voices emerged—low, mournful, ancient.

  Gasps echoed as spirits appeared—wraith-like wolves with burning eyes, circling San Qi like guardians from another realm.

  His voice echoed like thunder:

  "O souls unavenged, O claws buried in silence... I call thee forth!"

  "Forbidden Path—Third Invocation: Fang of the Forgotten Pact!"

  From the floor, a glowing ring erupted, and a massive spirit wolf—twice the size of any living beast—emerged, ethereal and snarling, its eyes the color of ash and fury.

  It lunged—not at San Lang's body, but at his spirit.

  San Lang writhed, screaming—not from wounds, but from the pull of the dead wolf's gaze.

  He had mocked the dead.

  He had betrayed the living.

  And now, both answered.