Auxiliary Women's Strategy: A Virtuous Wife Helps the King to Rule the World

Leng Wuhen's gaze was as firm as a rock, his hands forming seals, his movements swift as a phantom. Mysterious runes emerged before him, merging into the icy arrows, infusing them with even more chilling energy and increasing their power. His lips pursed tightly, revealing a sense of determination.

A deafening roar echoed, like the earth collapsing and the sky splitting apart. The flaming dragon and the ice arrow simultaneously dissipated, transforming into a cloud of icy and fiery debris. The debris rained down like dazzling fireworks, yet it carried a deadly danger. Wherever the debris touched, the ground burned into black holes or froze into lumps of ice.

Both were knocked back several steps by the terrifyingly powerful recoil. Yan Jiao's breathing became rapid, each breath heavy and labored, like the strain of a bellows. A hint of fatigue crossed his face, and sweat poured down like rain, soaking his fiery red clothes. But the fire of battle still burned in his eyes, and instead of weakening, it intensified, threatening to set his entire body ablaze.

Leng Wuhen, on the other hand, was slightly more composed. Although his steps stumbled slightly, he quickly regained his composure. However, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, sliding down his stern face, gathering at his chin and dripping onto the ground. His face was slightly pale, and his lips had lost their color, but his gaze remained calm and resolute.

After a brief pause, Yan Jiao launched another attack. "Red Flame Storm!" He swung the Red Flame Sword wildly, a massive whirlwind of flames forming around it. The whirlwind howled, carrying blazing heat and a powerful suction force. Wherever it passed, the air was burned and distorted. The whirlwind of flames swept towards Leng Wuhen, like a raging beast, ready to devour everything.

Seeing this, Leng Wuhen flashed, "Ice Teleport!" His body instantly transformed into an icy blue light, appearing behind Yan Jiao in an instant. His speed was so extreme that only a blurry afterimage remained. In his hand, he condensed the Ice Sword again, and the blade flashed with a cold light, stabbing Yan Jiao's back.

Yan Jiao reacted quickly, turning around abruptly. "Flame Shield!" he roared, and a flaming shield instantly appeared before him. The flames on the shield burned fiercely, as if they could burn anything that approached to ashes.

The icy sword and the flaming shield collided, emitting a sharp friction sound so piercing that it seemed to pierce one's eardrums. Countless sparks flew, radiating like stars, yet ephemeral.

The two men were once again in a stalemate, neither willing to give in. Their power countered each other, forming a delicate balance.

The atmosphere in the arena was extremely tense. The audience held their breath, their eyes fixed on the battle, afraid to miss a single moment. Their hearts were in their throats, as if they were in the middle of this life-or-death struggle.

Yan Jiao roared, his entire body ablaze with flames. "Ultimate Red Flame!" He poured all his strength into this attack. His body seemed to have transformed into a giant fireball, the light so dazzling that it was impossible to look directly at it.

Leng Wuhen was not to be outdone, "Absolutely freezing!" An extremely cold air surged out from him, the temperature around him dropped sharply in an instant, and even ice crystals appeared in the air.

The final showdown is approaching. Who will win this thrilling battle? The entire arena fell into a dead silence, waiting for the decisive moment.

At this critical moment, the power collision between Yan Jiao's "Ultimate Red Flame" and Leng Wuhen's "Absolute Ice Cold" became more and more intense, as if the whole world was caught up in this catastrophe of ice and fire.

The flames surrounding Yan Jiao reached a fever pitch, transforming him into a blazing sun, its light blazing and furious. The flames were no longer simply red, but now a near-incandescent hue, blinding the eye. The flames danced furiously, each leap a roaring roar, as if to break free from all restraints and reduce the world before them to ash. The surrounding space was distorted by the extreme heat, and the very air seemed to groan in agony as it burned.

Leng Wuhen was enveloped in a thick layer of frost, like a thousand-year-old iceberg, emanating an endless chill. The frost was crystal clear, yet incredibly hard, like the world's strongest armor. The ice sword in his hand hummed, its blade trembling, as if resisting the powerful heat wave alongside its master. The cold air around the sword condensed into a solid mist, constantly spreading outward.

The space between them was distorted beyond recognition, sometimes scorched by blazing flames, sometimes frozen to a crisp by freezing frost. The air seemed to be completely burned and then instantly frozen, creating a strange and terrifying scene.

Suddenly, Yan Jiao's body trembled slightly, as if his strength had reached its limit. Sweat dripped from his forehead like a spring, instantly evaporating into steam. But he still gritted his teeth, his eyes wide and bloodshot, desperately holding on, refusing to let his flames weaken in the slightest.

Leng Wuhen wasn't feeling well either. His face grew increasingly pale, bloodless, like a sheet of white paper. His lips, already purple from the cold, trembled slightly, as if he would lose consciousness at any moment. But his eyes remained firm, fixed fixedly on the front, a gaze that seemed to penetrate all obstacles and reach the other side of victory.

At that moment, the scorching flames showed signs of weakening. The once surging flames now flickered like a candle in the wind, swaying slightly. Leng Wuhen keenly noticed this change, a flicker of determination in his eyes, and he suddenly increased his power output.

"Crack!" A tiny crack appeared on the scorched flame shield. The crack spread rapidly across the flame shield like a ferocious centipede. As the cracks increased, the shield began to become shaky.

"Ah!" Yan Jiao roared in frustration, his voice filled with despair and rage. He tried to increase his strength again, but the magic within him surged like a flood, stretching his meridians and causing excruciating pain. However, at this point, he was powerless, his exhaustion leaving him unable to prevent the shield from shattering.

"Bang!" With a resounding explosion, as if the sky were collapsing and the earth were splitting, Yan Jiao's flame shield completely shattered. Countless sparks flew everywhere, instantly disappearing into the frigid air. Leng Wuhen's ice sword stabbed straight at Yan Jiao, its tip flashing with a cold, icy light, carrying the dawn of victory.

However, at the last moment, Leng Wuhen stopped his sword. The rapidly advancing sword tip stopped just an inch away from Yan Jiao's chest, and the coldness of the sword caused goose bumps to appear on Yan Jiao's skin.

Yan Jiao's eyes widened, his face full of disbelief. He stared blankly at Leng Wuhen, his lips trembling, but he couldn't speak.

Leng Wuhen slowly put down the sword in his hand, panting slightly and said: "Although you have lost, your strength deserves respect." Although his voice was weak, it was clearly heard by everyone.

The arena fell into a deathly silence, and then erupted into thunderous applause. The audience cheered for Leng Wuhen's victory and Yan Jiao's tenacity.

This fierce battle ended with Leng Wuhen's victory, but Yan Jiao's tenacity also won the respect of everyone.