Jiang Wang's fist smashed into Li Kun's arm. Flames coiled around his knuckles, bursting through his opponent's sleeves with a hiss of burning fabric.
A sickening crack echoed through the hall as Li Kun was thrown backward, his arm twisting at an unnatural angle.
Gasps rippled through the watching crowd.
Yet instead of pain, Li Kun's expression was eerily calm. Crimson light flared across his skin, wrapping around his broken arm.
Crack! Snap!
In just two sharp sounds, the shattered limb straightened and healed before everyone's eyes.
"He's using the Sixth-Grade Soul Blood Elixir!" someone from the sidelines shouted, their face paling.
The words struck like thunder.
"What? He's insane!"
Everyone knew the name of that pill. While it could heal injuries, its true purpose was far darker—it burned one's potential to grant explosive strength for a short time. The cost was devastating. Once that potential was drained, no matter how talented the cultivator was, their future would be crippled forever.
A desperate move for a desperate man.
Jiang Wang narrowed his eyes, recognizing the crimson glow. "So," he said coldly, "you'd rather destroy your future than lose to me."
Li Kun gave a crooked, bloodless smile. His clothes were in tatters, still smoking from the flames, but the aura around him was growing more and more violent.
Half a step into the Xuanling Realm.
The air trembled. The spiritual pressure pouring from Li Kun's body made the very stones beneath his feet hum.
He was forcing open the door to spiritual cultivation—where true cultivators merged the energy of heaven and earth with their bodies. But his foundation was unstable. His realm couldn't yet contain such power.
Even so, the pressure he exuded was suffocating.
"Mountain Collapse Fist!"
Li Kun roared, vanishing in an instant.
Jiang Wang's pupils contracted. He leaped back just as a punch crashed down, obliterating the spot where he had stood. The stone pillar beside him exploded into dust.
Li Kun stomped down hard, shattering the steps beneath him as gravel flew. He lunged again, streaking through the air like a meteor, his fist aimed straight for Jiang Wang's skull.
Jiang Wang didn't flinch. He met the blow head-on.
Li Kun's grin turned vicious. "You're using your bare body to take on spiritual energy? Courting death!"
Their fists collided with a thunderous boom. The shockwave rippled through the arena, forcing everyone to shield their eyes.
Both men staggered backward.
Jiang Wang glanced at his palm. It was raw, seared, and covered in blackened burns where Li Kun's spiritual energy had scorched his skin.
Li Kun, on the other hand, stood unscathed except for the dust on his boots.
He sneered. "Did you really think you could touch me? My Three-Spirit Mystical Eyes see every movement you make. I've been letting you fight just so you could understand the difference between us."
He clenched his fist again. "Enough games. Time to end this!"
"Mountain Collapse Fist!"
Once more, he unleashed his ultimate strike. His entire body pulsed with violent spiritual energy. The three glowing eyes between his brows were now leaking thin lines of blood.
He was losing control.
But Jiang Wang didn't move. He didn't even raise his arms. He simply stared into Li Kun's charging figure—unflinching.
The spectators held their breath. Was he mad?
Just as Li Kun's fist was about to connect, Jiang Wang's eyes snapped open.
Ancient runes erupted from his body in streams of golden light, and an invisible pressure shook the entire courtyard. Li Kun was thrown backward as though struck by an unseen force.
Pale-gold blood coursed through Jiang Wang's veins, radiating power. The clouds above churned, and the phantom of a colossal figure loomed behind him—a godlike being whose mere presence made the heavens tremble.
The air rippled. A dragon-shaped shadow coiled through the sky.
Gasps filled the air.
Even Jiang Xundao, seated at the main dais, shot to his feet, eyes wide. "A Heavenly-Grade Divine Power?! Wang'er… has actually mastered a Heavenly-Grade art!"
He wasn't the only one who felt it. Across the hall, the guardians hidden in the shadows tensed, their expressions grim.
"It's true," one whispered, voice trembling. "A new Heavenly-Grade Divine Power… has appeared in the Jiang family."
The oppressive aura pressed down like a mountain. Li Kun's arrogance shattered into terror.
That technique—its might was far beyond anything he could resist.
Jiang Wang's gaze was icy, merciless. "This ends now."
He stepped forward, his fist blazing with demonic shadows.
"Wanyuan Ascending Demon Fist!"
Li Kun froze. The weight of that strike locked his body in place—his limbs refused to move. It was like standing before the collapse of the sky itself.
"Elder Li! Save me!"
His voice cracked with terror. Death was close enough to taste.
Jiang Wang's fist descended.
"Enough! Stop, young man!"
A withered hand appeared from the void, intercepting the blow. The impact sent shockwaves through the courtyard as Li Kun was yanked backward and shielded behind an elderly figure.
Even so, the sheer force of Jiang Wang's unleashed power drove him stumbling several paces back, blood rising in his throat.
From the dais, Jiang Xundao's eyes gleamed.
In the next instant, he took a single step forward—shattering the marble floor beneath him—and appeared outside the hall.
With one motion, he caught Jiang Wang before he could fall. Then his gaze lifted, sharp as a blade, toward the intruder who had just interfered.
The old guardian's face changed. In a flash of panic, he turned to flee with Li Kun in tow.
But Jiang Xundao's hand rose lazily.
A massive spectral palm formed above them, blotting out the sky.
The fleeing figures froze in midair as the giant hand closed around them.
The guardian's eyes went wide with horror. He couldn't move—couldn't even summon his spiritual energy.
"Jiang Xundao… you—you've reached the Realm of Law!" he croaked, struggling futilely as the fingers tightened around him.
The air filled with the sound of bones cracking.
Crunch. Crack.
The guardian screamed, his voice breaking into hoarse pleas. "Stop! Jiang Xundao, do you mean to start a war between our families?!"
Blood spilled from his mouth, but he still clung to Li Kun, shielding the boy with what strength he had left.
Then, a calm but commanding voice echoed from the void.
"Master Jiang, please—let go. It was merely a contest between juniors. Surely it does not warrant you taking the field yourself."
A man stepped out from the air as though walking through water—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black robe trimmed with faint golden sigils that shimmered like constellations. His features bore a striking resemblance to Li Kun's.
Behind him, a dozen figures followed, each exuding the oppressive presence of Supreme Realm cultivators.
The hall's temperature seemed to drop.
Jiang Xundao's eyes narrowed dangerously.
At his back, from within the Jiang family hall, more figures shot into the air—elders of the clan, their own auras rising to meet the threat.
Power met power.
And in that silent standoff, the once-arrogant Li family entourage suddenly looked small.