Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 449 – Beat Me and I’ll Listen to You

Lin Fan pinched the silver tassel necklace around her neck.

The voidstone runes on the inside of the necklace flickered with a faint blue glow, and a visible stream of emerald Spirit Energy spread from her fingertips, flowing through the air toward the receiver bands on Lu Yuan’s and Zhu Yan’s wrists.

Lu Yuan drew in a sharp breath, his eyes going wide.

“This Spirit Energy… the concentration is absurd, isn’t it?”

He could feel the meridians in his body being stretched open and repaired by this Life Aura, cycling over and over, each cycle leaving them wider than before. At the bottleneck of the peak of Level Six, that thin membrane was being softened bit by bit.

The threshold of Level Seven—he could already touch it.

Zhu Yan’s reaction was even more pronounced.

The Dragon Bloodline within her, which had always been restless and volatile due to the forced genetic enhancement, finally settled under the infusion of emerald Spirit Energy.

That feeling of being on the verge of losing control at any moment had receded.

Peak of Level Seven.

Genuine, real peak of Level Seven.

“Done.” Lin Fan withdrew her hand, and the light of the necklace dimmed.

“The Blue Star matter must be settled within thirty days.”

Lin Fan turned to look at the two of them, and at Wang Shan trembling behind them, her tone flat.

To make this old bastard work for her obediently, she had just forcibly poured all of her stockpile from the past few days into Wang Shan—undiluted, no less.

Even with the resistance of a Level Seven mid-stage Mental Strength Evolved being, she couldn’t completely make him absolutely devoted to Lin Fan.

But it planted a seed in Wang Shan’s subconscious.

“Ninety-three Rifts—fight the ones that need fighting, take the ones that need taking. All survivors go to Azurewood City. Chu Chen will give you a schedule; just follow it.”

“Got it.” Lu Yuan raised a hand.

Zhu Yan gave a small nod, saying nothing.

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“One more thing,” Lin Fan’s gaze slid between the two of them. “Don’t cause internal friction. Whoever holds us back, I’ll deal with them when I get back.”

With that, she turned and walked toward the Spatial Rift behind the ruins of the Black Palace.

The light of the Rift writhed constantly beneath the gray sky, and the spatial fragments at its edges refracted light from another world like shards of broken glass.

Lin Fan’s cyan hanfu skirt swayed in the wind, a few strands of her white coiled hair falling loose to her waist. She looked like an ink painting that had wandered into the wrong era.

Then she stepped into the Rift, her figure swallowed whole. The light flickered twice, then settled into stillness.

Lu Yuan stood where he was, watching for a few seconds.

The wind blew past, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The silence around the Black Palace was almost too much.

He turned to look at the woman beside him—black yoga pants, a sports top, golden hair flying wildly in the wind.

Zhu Yan happened to turn her head at the same moment.

Their eyes met.

The atmosphere immediately became… delicate.

Lu Yuan broke the silence first, putting on what he thought was a very approachable smile.

“So… you’re Sister Zhu Yan, right?”

He rubbed his hands together, his tone warm. “Since the boss lady has us working together, let’s look out for each other from now on, haha.”

Zhu Yan looked at him, her expression completely unchanged.

Occasionally, a glint of Vertical pupils flashed through those black irises, and with the curved golden Dragon horns on either side of her forehead, she radiated an unmistakable “stay away from me” aura.

“Cooperation is fine.”

She spoke, her voice perfectly even.

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“But someone has to be in charge.”

Lu Yuan’s smile was still on his face. “That’s easy to settle—Chu Chen will send the schedule, so we’ll just follow the plan—”

“We fight.”

Zhu Yan cut him off.

“Whoever wins gives the orders.”

Lu Yuan’s smile froze on his face.

He blinked. Then blinked again.

His gaze traveled from the silver bracelet on Zhu Yan’s wrist—identical to his own—to the seventh-level peak Spirit Energy fluctuations faintly swirling around her.

Seventh-level peak.

Challenging a sixth-level peak.

This wasn’t a spar. This was a one-sided beating.

“Sis,” Lu Yuan’s expression crumpled. “Aren’t you just picking on an honest man?”

“You? Honest?”

Zhu Yan’s tone finally showed a hint of inflection, but the direction of that inflection was clearly not friendly.

“All you have to do is survive one hour against me,” Zhu Yan said. “Then you win.”

Lu Yuan stared at her for three seconds.

That expressionless face was written with sincerity—no hint of joking.

And when she said “survive one hour,” her right hand unconsciously clenched, and dark golden Dragon Scales flickered across her knuckles for an instant.

This woman genuinely wanted to hit him.

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Not a friendly spar. She wanted to beat him thoroughly, completely, into the ground.

He was a reckless man, but not a fool.

He could sense the look in Zhu Yan’s eyes—not hatred, but something far more complicated.

“Fine.”

He let out a breath and rolled his wrists.

“One hour it is. It’s just running, right? That’s my specialty.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Zhu Yan moved.

No warning whatsoever. The ground exploded beneath her feet as a dark golden figure shot forward trailing afterimages, fist wrapped in dense Dragon Qi, trajectory locked precisely on Lu Yuan’s chest.

A full-power strike from a seventh-level peak.

“Holy shit!”

Lu Yuan’s body reacted faster than his mind.

White light burst from his skin, his entire form transforming into an arc of light, vanishing from the spot just as Zhu Yan’s fist grazed past the tip of his nose.

Boom.

The force of her punch slammed into the ground behind him, sending marble debris flying over twenty meters into the air.

Zhu Yan withdrew her fist, turned, and swept her gaze toward the re-materialized figure of light thirty meters away.

Lu Yuan stood with one hand in his pocket, the collar of his shirt flipped up by the shockwave.

“You said one hour.” His voice drifted over from the distance, tinged with grievance. “At least let me prepare a little?”

Zhu Yan ignored him.

She pushed off the ground.

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Her second charge was faster than the first. A phantom dragon tail extended from the base of her spine, and the air it swept through let out a sharp hiss.

Lu Yuan’s figure shattered into specks of light again.

Thirty meters. Fifty meters. Eighty meters.

Every time Zhu Yan closed in, he scattered like fireflies blown by the wind, reigniting in another direction. Light and effortless, with no sense of urgency whatsoever.

Ten minutes passed.

Zhu Yan’s punches, elbow strikes, and dragon tail sweeps—none of them so much as touched the hem of Lu Yuan’s clothes.

Twenty minutes.

Zhu Yan’s breathing grew heavier.

Not from physical exhaustion—a seventh-level peak’s stamina reserves were nowhere near their limit. It was from frustration.

That bastard, even while running, could turn back and grin at her.

“Sis, you’re drifting left!”

“Hey, so close! Keep it up!”

Zhu Yan’s dragon horns began to glow.

At the forty-minute mark, she finally stopped.

Gasping for breath, hands braced on her knees, golden hair plastered messily against her cheeks and neck.

Lu Yuan stood sixty meters away, also panting.

He tilted his head, looking at Zhu Yan, his expression unchanged.

“Still going?”