"Damn it! Have you ever seen a devil that controls lightning? That's not a devil—that's an angel! A thunder-wielding angel! The Raimill Angel!"
Some of the more religiously inclined terrorists had already made up their minds about Lin Mei's identity, relying on whatever scraps of knowledge and superstition they possessed.
But regardless of what they believed, their fingers never left the triggers.
"Thunder Dragon's Sword Horn!"
Lightning crackled around Lin Mei as he surged forward like a living thunderbolt, slamming headfirst into the group of stunned terrorists.
The impact was devastating. Those caught directly in the blast were thrown backward, their bodies convulsing as raw electricity surged through them. Those closer to the shockwave were electrocuted on the spot, collapsing in spasms before going still.
Tony could only watch in awe.
Lin Mei moved like a streak of lightning, weaving through the chaos with impossible speed. Every strike was followed by a deafening boom of thunder. Sparks illuminated the battlefield as terrorists scattered in panic, desperately trying—and failing—to escape the deadly storm.
Yet even in the midst of battle, Lin Mei's voice rang out.
"Mr. Tony Shit, if you don't help, I won't last much longer!"
Tony twitched at the nickname but quickly snapped back to reality.
Lin Mei was strong—unbelievably strong—but he was still just a kid. And from the way his movements were slowing, Tony could tell he was running on fumes.
Damn it.
Tony forced his battered Mark One armor to move, activating whatever functions still worked. His thrusters were shot, but his weapons system was still operational.
"Alright, kid. You take left, I'll take right," Tony muttered, aiming his crude flamethrower at the remaining terrorists.
Lin Mei smirked.
"Thunder Dragon's Hook Claw!"
"Thunder Dragon's Iron Fist!"
"Thunder Dragon's Elbow Strike!"
Every attack sent another wave of destruction rippling through the enemy ranks. Terrorists fell like dominoes, their screams drowned out by the roar of thunder.
But Lin Mei was running on empty.
His breath came in ragged gasps. His movements were growing sluggish.
The exhaustion from his dimensional travel was catching up to him.
And then, just as he landed one final blow, his body finally gave in.
His vision blurred. His legs gave out.
Lin Mei collapsed.
"Kid!"
Tony didn't hesitate.
With Lin Mei having drawn most of the enemy fire, he activated the flamethrower and torched everything in sight. The remaining terrorists, their weapons, their stockpiles of explosives—everything went up in flames.
When the base was nearly engulfed, Tony scooped Lin Mei up—not gently, but efficiently—and took off.
He had no choice.
The whole damn place was about to explode.
Tony's battered Mark One barely held together as he flew from the collapsing base, carrying the unconscious Lin Mei under his arm like a sack of potatoes.
And sure enough—
BOOM!
The entire Ten Rings base erupted into a fiery inferno behind them.
But they weren't out of the woods yet.
Not long after escaping, Tony's suit gave out.
The damaged thrusters sputtered once—then died completely.
Both of them went plummeting toward the desert below.
Tony braced for impact.
"Oh, this is gonna hurt—"
Then—
CRASH.
Sand exploded into the air as the Mark One slammed into the ground.
Tony groaned. Lin Mei let out a weak grunt from where he lay sprawled in the sand.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then—
"Damn it! That was brutal!" Lin Mei wheezed.
He was dizzy, bruised, and aching all over. His dragon-enhanced body had saved him from anything serious, but it still hurt.
Tony, meanwhile, was already prying himself free from the wreckage.
"Yeah, yeah, we survived. Quit whining."
He turned to Lin Mei, giving him a once-over.
"Little wizard, you still in one piece?"
Lin Mei groaned as Tony grabbed his shoulder and gave him a rough shake.
"Mr. Stark, if you shake me any harder, I swear my ribs are gonna break all over again!"
Tony grinned. "Oh? Is that right? Maybe I should shake you one more time just to be sure."
Lin Mei rolled his eyes. Billionaire asshole.
Despite the banter, the reality of their situation set in quickly.
They were stranded.
The desert stretched endlessly around them, no civilization in sight.
With no other choice, they began walking.
And walking.
And walking.
Two days passed.
By then, Lin Mei had recovered enough to walk properly. But even with his enhanced body, he was exhausted.
Tony, for his part, looked like hell—disheveled, dehydrated, and covered in sand.
Just when Lin Mei was ready to collapse again, salvation arrived.
A helicopter.
Rhodey.
They were saved.
Later – Aboard a Private Jet
Lin Mei lay sprawled across a plush seat on Tony's private jet, heading back to the United States.
He looked like death.
"Ugh… how long until we land?" he groaned.
His face was pale. His stomach churned.
Turns out, dragon slayers get motion sickness.
And it was bad.
Tony, seated across from him, was having the time of his life.
"Hah! That's the one-hundred-sixth time you've thrown up since we took off!" he cackled.
Lin Mei weakly glared at him. I'm gonna get revenge on you someday, billionaire bastard.
But for now…
Vomit.
Lin Mei barely made it to the nearest bag before hurling again.
Tony paid no attention to Lin Mei, who was lying on the floor, utterly defeated by motion sickness. Instead, he casually uncorked an expensive bottle of spirits and took a slow, deliberate sip.
Vomit!
Lin Mei groaned miserably, his body trembling from nausea.
Tony smirked.
For some reason, hearing Lin Mei's suffering brought a strange sense of satisfaction. He'd never admit it, of course, but deep down, he was still holding a grudge over the ridiculous nickname "Shit Big Cell."
Absolutely. No doubt about it.
Vomit!
Tony took another sip, pretending to savor the drink.
"Huh. Strange. This wine tastes particularly good today. Must be a coincidence." His voice dripped with amusement.
Lin Mei weakly glared at him, wanting nothing more than to retaliate. But his body refused to cooperate.
Vomit!
His strength failed him once again, and he collapsed onto the seat, utterly drained.
Lin Mei clenched his fists.
I'll remember this, Stark.
Tears welled up—not just from humiliation, but from sheer exhaustion.
Vomit!
Great. Now he was crying and puking at the same time. Could this get any worse?
Far Above the Plane…
Unbeknownst to Lin Mei and Tony, a pair of ancient eyes were watching them from afar.
A lone figure stood atop the Himalayas, gazing at the plane with quiet intrigue.
A woman in flowing yellow robes, her bald head illuminated by the crisp mountain air.
The Ancient One.
Her sharp eyes studied Lin Mei's every move, peering beyond the surface and into the very essence of his being.
"Interesting… This child carries the presence of a young dragon within him. And yet, his energy is wildly unstable."
She tilted her head slightly, observing the chaotic flow of power within him.
"If not for the dragon's influence, his body would have already torn itself apart."
A thoughtful pause.
"And this 'Dragon Slayer Magic'… It does not belong to this world. Its structure, its energy signature—it's foreign. Almost like a cosmic anomaly."
A glimmer of curiosity flashed in her eyes.
If anyone had been watching closely, they would have seen the vast, snow-covered Himalayas reflected in her gaze.
The Ancient One had long been attuned to the mystical forces of the Earth. Any disruption in space—any fracture in reality—immediately caught her attention.
So, when Lin Mei tore through dimensions, his arrival did not go unnoticed.
And now, he had her full attention.
She studied him for a moment longer before a small, knowing smile crossed her lips.
"If this child can learn to control his power… he may one day become a worthy candidate for the next Sorcerer Supreme."
Meanwhile, Lin Mei, completely unaware of the powerful gaze watching over him, remained unconscious.
By the time the plane touched down in the United States, a wheelchair-bound man and a strikingly beautiful woman were already waiting for him at Tony Stark's manor.
They had come to take Lin Mei away.