I Don't Believe It

Liu Yishou found it somewhat amusing.

Was this kid beaten silly by him?

Or did he simply not understand what he was up against right now?

He admitted that the cultivator before him was indeed eerily strange to the extreme, with an endless array of techniques and a battle prowess that defied all logic.

But so what?

From the moment the fight began until now, he might have appeared to be on the defensive, even having one of his moves blocked by that bizarre wall of fire.

Yet Liu Yishou knew it well in his heart.

He hadn’t suffered any real injury so far.

That alone said a lot.

And his opponent?

Every time they clashed head-on, every time they erupted, the power they unleashed—while terrifying in quality—was pitifully small in quantity.

It was like a volcanic eruption: grand and spectacular in its initial burst, but once that bit of magma was spent, all that remained was a pile of cold, dead rock.

In a prolonged fight, victory was his for the taking.

With that thought, the wariness in Liu Yishou’s cold, sinister eyes gradually gave way to a much more burning emotion.

Greed.

“With such a meager cultivation level, yet you’ve managed to hold out against me for this long?”

Liu Yishou stared at Su Ji, his gaze like that of someone eyeing a walking treasure vault.

“Do you have a cultivation technique on you—one that’s at least a legacy of an immortal?”

Su Ji was taken aback for a moment.

Because he did have one.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Hand it over!”

Liu Yishou took a step forward, the silver blade in his hand humming under the lightning, his voice carrying a tone of command that brooked no refusal. “I can take it upon myself to spare your life!”

“Pfft…”

Su Ji burst out laughing.

The look on his face was the kind that practically begged to be punched.

“What, are your ears not working?”

“I already told you—you’re the one who’s going to die.”

A muscle in Liu Yishou’s eye twitched violently. His face, twisted earlier into a cruel grin, now turned completely dark.

“Then let’s see!”

“Whether your technique is stronger, or my blade art is better!”

The moment the words left his mouth, Liu Yishou transformed into a blinding streak of electricity, shooting into the sky!

He gave Su Ji no chance to catch his breath.

He was going to crush this arrogant little pest into dust.

“Thunder Rush!”

Liu Yishou’s body merged with the roiling thunderclouds overhead.

He and the blade in his hand became one—a spear of lightning piercing heaven and earth, carrying a terrifying might that could tear the sky asunder. Like a comet cutting through an eternal night, he plummeted down toward Su Ji on the ground.

Too fast!

This wasn’t just speed anymore—it was the manifestation of his blade intent!

Even before the blade arrived, the condensed, tangible aura of destruction had already locked onto the space around Su Ji for dozens of yards.

The air was compressed, groaning under the unbearable pressure.

The ground cracked inch by inch, countless fragments of stone floating upward against all reason, only to be crushed into dust midair by the invisible force.

Su Ji could even feel the armor of black flames coating his body creaking and cracking under the strain, fine fissures appearing on its surface.

He knew he couldn’t dodge this strike.

And if he tried to block it head-on, he would most likely fail.

But there was no fear on his face.

Not even a flicker of emotion stirred in his dark crimson eyes.

He simply stood there, still, slowly lifting his head to watch the devastating thunderous light that filled his entire field of vision, drawing closer and closer.