Rumble!
Chunks of earth floated into the air, crushed under the sheer gravitational pressure of the Sovereign Dragon and War God. The skies had darkened, golden-black flames clashing against the crimson aura of the war deity. The battlefield itself seemed on the verge of collapse, unable to contain the presence of such monstrous power.
Yet Lei Jiang didn't flinch. Didn't stagger. He didn't even seem impressed. Instead, he rolled his shoulders, electricity crackling through his bones. His grin wide as if he'd been waiting for this moment.
"Now that's what I'm talking about," he mused, cracking his neck as he strode forward, completely unbothered by the suffocating force pressing down on him.
Poof!
In an instant, he vanished into thin air. Leaving only ripples from where he once stood.
Golden lightning surged through Lei Jiang's veins, crawling across his muscular arms like caged dragons yearning for freedom. His smirk never wavered, even as the sheer force of Lu Shen and Wei Jun's combined martial souls turned the battlefield into a storm of suffocating energy.
BOOM!
A deafening sound erupted as Lei Jiang's golden lightning exploded, launching him forward at an impossible speed.
Lu Shen barely had time to react.
A fist of pure thunder struck his guard—like a mountain colliding with another mountain. The impact was so violent that a sonic boom shattered the ground beneath them, sending a shockwave that uprooted trees, tore banners from their poles, and sent lifeless bodies tumbling into the air.
Lu Shen skidded backward, his arms tingling from the devastating force, but before he could recover, Lei Jiang was already there.
"Too slow."
Bang!
A golden knee crashed into Lu Shen's ribs, sending him spiraling through the air like a comet. The world blurred. The pain was instant like a spear of pure lightning had been driven through his body.
But before he could be thrown too far—Wei Jun appeared in a flicker of crimson.
"My turn."
Lei Jiang barely had time to react before a massive gauntlet—engraved with the War God's sigils—slammed into his face.
BOOM!
The entire battlefield shook.
Lei Jiang was sent flying like a meteor, smashing through ruined walls and crumbling mountains in the distance. Dust clouds billowed into the sky, blocking out the sun for a brief moment.
Wei Jun exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. His crimson War God loomed behind him, its towering form wreathed in burning Qi, its glowing eyes locked onto the dust cloud where Lei Jiang had disappeared.
But then—The crackling of lightning.
Wei Jun's instincts flared, and he barely managed to throw his arm up in time.
CRACK!
A fist wreathed in golden thunder slammed into his block, sending him skidding backward, his boots carving deep trenches into the earth.
Lei Jiang stood there, grinning as he shook the dust off his body. His eyes flashed with a dangerous gleam.
"You hit hard," he admitted, rolling his jaw, "but let's see if you can keep up."
Then—he was everywhere.
Golden streaks of lightning zigzagged across the battlefield, each movement leaving behind a blurred afterimage—a testament to his inhuman speed.
Wei Jun ducked just in time to avoid a lightning-coated roundhouse kick that nearly took his head off. Lu Shen reappeared beside him, his dragon eyes shimmering with gold and abyssal black.
A flick of his wrist—the Sovereign Dragon coiled behind him. Its sheer presence forced the storm clouds above to churn violently, lightning crackling across the heavens in response.
Then—the counterattack began.
Lu Shen struck first.
His palm—a bladed edge of divine Qi—sliced through the air, aiming for Lei Jiang's ribs.
Bang! Bang!
Lei Jiang parried with a flick of his forearm, the clash of lightning and divine energy sending sparks in every direction.
Wei Jun capitalized. His gauntlet smashed into the ground, and from it, a shockwave of crimson energy exploded outward, threatening to bury Lei Jiang in pure martial force.
But Lei Jiang—laughed menacingly.
Poof!
He vanished again, reappearing above them.
His body glowed like a living sun, his hands wreathed in golden thunder. Then, he slammed them together.
A sky-shattering thunderclap.
The sheer force tore the heavens apart, sending bolts of golden lightning crashing down like divine punishment.
Lu Shen and Wei Jun dodged—but barely. The battle was already way past what a mortal eyes could see, yet Lei Jiang made it seem so effortless.
BOOM!
The ground erupted in pillars of golden flame, the air distorting from the sheer heat and energy.
The battlefield was no longer a battlefield. It was a storm. A cataclysm. A divine reckoning. No, actually a rapture.
And still, Lei Jiang grinned. "Not bad," he mused, cracking his knuckles. "But I'm just getting started."
Rumble!
He spread his arms wide.
A roar unlike any before tore through the heavens. And a massive golden storm formed above him, and from it—his Martial Soul emerged.
A titanic Thunder Titan with lightning pupils and a monkey like physique, its body composed of roaring lightning dragons, its eyes burning with endless destruction.
Rumble!
Lei Jiang floated before the Titan's face, before he began merging with it. The golden storm collapsing into him, and his body becoming a living conduit of unrestrained thunder. His once-human form expanded, his veins becoming rivers of lightning, his flesh replaced with condensed storm energy.
Boom!
When he opened his eyes, his pupils burned fiercely like twin suns.
And with a smirk, he whispered—"Now, let's dance."
Elsewhere, as the sect burned. Screams of dying disciples echoed through the night as blood soaked the once-sacred grounds. Amidst the carnage, a lone figure prowled, his twisted form illuminated by the flickering flames.
Cheng Feng had truly become something else—something wretched. His face, once noble, was now a grotesque mask of madness, and a cruel grin stretched wide across his lips. He walked the battlefield with a butcher's delight, his blade shrieking as it drank deep from the fallen.
Opposing him, clad in tattered robes that barely rippled in the storm of battle, stood Grand Elder Mo Lin. He was calm, unshaken as if he were not standing in the eye of a bloodthirsty demon. His piercing gaze locked onto Cheng Feng's monstrous form, unyielding and unreadable.
Cheng Feng's grin widened. "Mo Lin… standing still like a statue while the world burns. How fitting." His voice was a growl, thick with corruption, reverberating with something inhuman. "Tell me, Grand Elder, do you think your little sword will save you from a monster?"
Mo Lin exhaled slowly, the wind around him stilling in response. "Not necessarily."
Whoosh!
Cheng Feng cackled and lunged. He moved like a demon unchained—his speed was unnatural, his strikes erratic yet overwhelming. His corrupted blade came down like a thunderclap, tearing through the air with sheer force.
Mo Lin barely shifted, stepping aside with an almost lazy grace, his sleeves billowing as the blade struck the ground, splitting it apart with an explosion of stone and dust.
Bang! Bang!
In a single motion, Mo Lin retaliated. His fingers flicked outward, summoning a series of crescent-shaped energy slashes that cut through the debris like blades of divine judgment.
Cheng Feng twisted his body unnaturally, avoiding most of them, but one traced a searing line across his chest. He barely noticed. Instead, he grinned wider. "I can feel it," he whispered, voice vibrating with power. "I feel it growing!"
Rumble!
A pulse of black energy erupted from him, sending a shockwave that cracked the ground beneath their feet. The air itself seemed to distort as his power surged. His blade, once a deadly weapon, now writhed with something unholy, extending and contracting as if alive.
But Mo Lin remained unmoved.
With a snarl, Cheng Feng attacked again, his swings relentless, his strength alone was monstrous. Each strike sent out deadly arcs of dark energy, slicing through walls and bodies alike.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Mo Lin deflected them with precise, effortless movements, his fingers weaving through the air, redirecting the corrupted force into harmless bursts of wind. But even as he countered, Cheng Feng's power only grew more volatile.
Cracks formed beneath Mo Lin's feet. His robes fluttered violently as the storm of power around them intensified. The once-dignified battlefield was now a realm of destruction. Cheng Feng's form became a blur, his howls blending with the wails of the souls he had taken. His swings no longer had rhythm—they were the pure expression of madness and slaughter.
Mo Lin frowned slightly.
Roar!
Cheng Feng roared, his body trembling as another surge of dark energy erupted from him. His remaining arm expanded grotesquely, the veins bulging and twisting into tendrils of shadow. His body could barely contain the demonic power anymore.
And Mo Lin finally moved with purpose—a single step. And the battlefield shifted.
In an instant, he was behind Cheng Feng, fingers poised like a blade. Cheng Feng barely turned before a searing palm strike connected with his spine, sending him hurtling through multiple ruined structures. Smoke and dust filled the air. For a brief moment, silence reigned.
BANG!
Then, a slow, deep laughter emerged from the rubble.
The air turned frigid and the ground quivered. Cheng Feng rose. But he was no longer merely a man consumed by darkness. His body was disfigured, as if he'd become a full demon.
His form had lost all semblance of humanity. The corruption had overtaken him completely, his body now an abyss of writhing shadows and demonic essence. His eyes, once maddened but aware, were now bottomless pits of hunger.
Mo Lin sighed. "You have already lost yourself."
Cheng Feng's laughter did not stop. Instead, it deepened, reverberating across the ruined sect like a dirge.
Mo Lin's fingers curled around the hilt of his blade.
Swoosh!
In a flash of silver, he moved like a wisp of air.
Screech!
Cheng Feng's shriek split the heavens as a streak of divine steel traced the arc of execution.
Sigh! "Flowing Mirage Sword Art, Demon's Purge."