Turning the Tide of Despair

The serenity of Empress Xianxia's chambers shattered as the jade doors exploded inward. Lord Regulus, his face contorted by a rage that warped his usually pristine aura, strode in, followed by a phalanx of his elite Sentinels of Purity. His power, no longer contained by enforced tranquility, raged like a sun gone nova, and Long Hu's senses screamed with the raw, uncontrolled despair it radiated. This was not just a powerful cultivator; this was a geyser of misery, directly fueling the Devourers.

"Empress," Regulus thundered, his voice cracking with fury, "you have defiled the purity of my realm! You will pay for this heresy!" He lunged, a blinding spear of concentrated spiritual might aimed directly at Xianxia. His spiritual shunt, now fully active, visibly pulsed, drawing in the boundless rage he generated.

Xianxia met him not with fear, but with a gaze as cold and sharp as the void itself. Her form shimmered, and she was no longer merely standing, but commanding the very fabric of space. "Your purity was a lie, Regulus," she stated, her voice cutting through his roar. "And your rage, a feast for your masters!"

The clash was instantaneous, devastating. Xianxia's power, fluid and boundless, met Regulus's rigid, furious might. She moved with impossible grace, deflecting, evading, and striking with surgical precision. She wasn't just fighting; she was subtly manipulating the flow of battle, observing every surge of despair that erupted from Regulus with each frustrated roar.

Long Hu was at her side, not wielding a weapon, but guiding her. His unique senses were razor-sharp, perceiving the subtle shifts in Regulus's aura, the moments when his rage created vulnerabilities. "Left flank, Your Majesty!" he called out, his voice strained as he fought the urge to recoil from the torrent of despair. "His desperation is cracking his temporal defense!"

Xianxia's sword, a shimmering blade of condensed starlight, flickered. It wasn't a direct strike against Regulus's body, but a precise incision into the fabric of space where his rage was most concentrated, subtly disrupting the spiritual shunt's connection. Regulus roared, a sound of agony and fury, as his attack faltered. He was feeding the Devourers, and Xianxia was actively using his 'food' against him.

The Sentinels of Purity surged forward, their synchronized attacks a terrifying display of disciplined force. Master Tian and the Imperial Guards engaged them, their clash filling the chamber with the clang of weapons and the roar of spiritual energy.

A particularly powerful sentinel lunged at Long Hu, believing him to be an easy target. But before he could even react, Xianxia's boot lashed out, a blur of golden light, sending the sentinel sprawling across the floor, unconscious. Her eyes, briefly meeting Long Hu's, held a fierce, unspoken protectiveness that transcended the chaos of battle. He was her vulnerability, her strength, her purpose in this fight.

Regulus, consumed by his own fury and the endless hunger of the Devourers, grew increasingly reckless. His attacks became wider, more devastating, but also less precise, less controlled. Long Hu felt the Devourers gorging on this raw, unbridled despair. He realized then: Regulus was not just a willing pact-maker; he was becoming a monstrous conduit, emptying himself for the sake of power.

"His core!" Long Hu shouted, pointing to a subtle, shimmering nexus in the center of Regulus's chest, exposed by a momentary lapse in his rage-fueled defense. "It's overloading with pure despair! A Devourer siphon, not a cultivation base!"

Xianxia's eyes narrowed, a brilliant tactical light in their depths. Her sword became a streak of lightning, plunging directly into the exposed nexus in Regulus's chest. There was no physical wound, no gushing blood. Instead, Regulus stiffened, his eyes widening in horror, and a silent, agonizing scream ripped through the spiritual plane.

His body began to glow with a blinding light, then rapidly imploded, exactly like the Northern Dominion Dreadnought. Not a physical explosion, but a complete, silent implosion of despair, leaving nothing but a lingering coldness and a profound absence. His Sentinels, suddenly disconnected from their leader's guiding will, froze, their faces masks of confusion and terror.

The chamber fell silent, save for the panting breaths of Xianxia's guards. Lord Regulus was gone. The Sentinel of Purity, consumed by his own chosen despair. But as Long Hu looked at the void where Regulus had been, he felt a chilling sense of paradox. They had stopped his rage, yes. But the sheer volume of his despair in that final implosion… it would have been a colossal feast for the Devourers.

Xianxia stood, her sword still extended, her gaze fixed on the empty space. Long Hu felt her own surge of triumph, quickly tempered by a grim understanding. She turned to him, her eyes searching his, a profound weariness in their depths. They had won. But winning meant feeding the enemy, if only for a final, horrific gulp. Their bond, forged in combat and shared horror, had deepened irrevocably. The war had just shown them how truly insidious it could be.