This brings us to one of your habits.

Jiang Ningshu's greatest strength had always been her dual-sword techniques.

And Su Luo understood Jiang Ningshu's techniques, with a mastery no less than hers.

At this moment, Su Luo and Jiang Ningshu took their seamless coordination to an even higher level.

As Jiang Ningshu swung her swords, she felt an increasing sense of fluidity—never before had she imagined dual swords could be wielded like this.

The more she used them, the more she felt she could grasp Su Luo's intentions, as if the two were moving as one.

It was indescribable, but she loved it—the feeling grew more intoxicating by the moment.

Occasionally, she even had close contact with Su Luo.

Jiang Ningshu found she didn’t dislike it at all.

No matter what the Left Envoy made his clones do, they couldn’t harm Su Luo and Jiang Ningshu, only wasting themselves in vain.

As time passed, the two became even more unbreakable. If this dragged on, it would be the Left Envoy who perished.

The Left Envoy began to regret coming alone.

But then he reminded himself—how could he call himself a Demon Lord if he always harbored such thoughts?

A Demon Lord should face every enemy with absolute dominance.

Even at a disadvantage, he must never lower his head or lose heart.

Hypnotizing himself into resolve, the Left Envoy roared, unleashing a bizarre sonic wave that forced Su Luo and Jiang Ningshu back.

His clones then turned and rushed toward him in a frenzy.

"If clones won’t work, then merge!"

All the clones leaped, piling onto the Left Envoy.

They didn’t collide harmlessly—instead, they fused into his body.

The Left Envoy began to change, swelling in size before compressing again, more clones merging into him, expanding once more, then shrinking—a cycle repeating over and over.

Finally, he transformed into a four-meter-tall monstrosity, a single horn sprouting from his left side, his skin turning crimson like a lesser demon.

"This is my ultimate form."

His voice turned hoarse, his appearance grotesque, but there was no doubt—he was strong now, at least in his own mind.

"Not impressed. Feels weaker than your clones," Su Luo remarked, having seen this trick countless times before.

"Disgusting," Jiang Ningshu added bluntly.

The Left Envoy was furious. "I didn’t transform like this for your mockery!"

He threw a punch, his massive fist sprouting spikes mid-swing—even if dodged, the spikes would extend to chase the target.

Now, his body could shape attacks in countless ways.

"Pretty intimidating, but still nothing special," Su Luo said, raising his sword to meet the challenge.

"I feel the same," Jiang Ningshu echoed, following suit.

If Su Luo were alone, he’d have to fight desperately. But with Jiang Ningshu, there was no need.

Through their coordination, Su Luo felt victory was assured.

To his eyes, the Left Envoy held no secrets—no ultimate technique or hidden move could catch him off guard.

If Su Luo said they’d win, they would.

The Left Envoy grew wings from his back—not for flight, but to charge and unleash spells.

Su Luo and Jiang Ningshu severed them before he could act, denying him any chance.

His horn could fire a devastating piercing beam, deadly if unexpected.

Yet Su Luo always knew the exact moment it would fire, guiding Jiang Ningshu to evade, wasting the Left Envoy’s energy.

The Left Envoy had grown stronger, but against Su Luo and Jiang Ningshu, he posed no real threat.

None of his techniques worked. Instead, his injuries piled up.

His massive body shrank bit by bit.

Even in such a hopeless situation, the Left Envoy felt no fear.

He had abandoned reason—only by fighting with absolute focus, unburdened by fear or hesitation, could he survive.

Losing reason didn’t make him weaker. He was still formidable—just unlucky to face Su Luo and Jiang Ningshu.

Their dual-sword union, meanwhile, surpassed even their own expectations.

The more they fought, the more their power surged, each amplifying the other.

Against the Left Envoy, they felt nothing—as if he were mere trash.

When the Left Envoy tried to unleash his ultimate technique, Su Luo stabbed the lower left of his chest, disrupting the energy flow and causing it to run wild inside him.

The spell shattered before it could form.

The Left Envoy couldn’t comprehend it—how did Su Luo know his body better than he did?

Su Luo: "It’s over."

Jiang Ningshu: "I think so too."

Crossing their swords, their powers merged.

Xia Ying and the Demon Sword resonated—these blades had always been Jiang Ningshu’s, and none could match their synergy.

Of course, this was only possible thanks to their flawless technique; a lesser pair would’ve exploded from the strain.

Over?

The Left Envoy was baffled. He still had countless desperate moves left, and his opponents weren’t strong enough to instantly kill him.

How dare they declare it finished! Did they truly look down on him so much?

He swelled again, energy gathering in his horn.

But it was too late.

There was a concept called the "execution threshold"—and the Left Envoy had crossed it. His mistake was not going all-out from the start, underestimating Su Luo and Jiang Ningshu.

Their fused power reached completion. Then—they struck.

Chaotic Demon Flash!

Blades of light sliced through the air, their force capable of cleaving anything.

Su Luo and Jiang Ningshu carved the Left Envoy into pieces before he could even release his technique.

Only as his head tumbled did clarity return—he had lost.

He tried to beg for mercy, but before words could form, another slash silenced him forever.

"Rest in peace."

With his last thought, the Left Envoy activated a hidden array: "If I die, you die with me!"

He had prepared well—the surrounding artifacts detonated with terrifying force.

But Su Luo only sighed. "Give up. I took control of your array the moment you started monologuing."

His words plunged the Left Envoy into despair.

In the end, the Left Envoy perished, consumed by bitter resentment.

Su Luo shook his head. Without Jiang Ningshu, this battle would’ve been a desperate, grueling struggle, leaving him battered even in victory.

Now, though exhausted, he’d paid almost no lasting price—some rest would suffice.

Jiang Ningshu stared at the Left Envoy’s corpse, but her mind wasn’t on triumph.

Instead, she wondered—what if she hadn’t regained her strength?

The answer was obvious: a brutal death.

Truly, holding fate in one’s own hands was the only way.

And all of this—she owed to Su Luo.

"Su Luo… thank you."

"Don’t mention it. The Left Envoy wanted me dead too. This wasn’t just your fight."

"That’s not what I meant. Thank you for helping me recover my power."

"So… what happened to your cultivation?"

He was asking how she’d regained her second-stage strength.

"Well, that’s thanks to one of your habits."