Chapter 421: Fierce Fight

Chapter 421: The Demon

The weight of stones and iron pressed upon the trembling form, he rose, gesturing toward the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, while the figure before him, reduced to a writhing mass of shadows, remained unseen. "The child is still alive." No need for the elder’s reprimand, he had glimpsed the silhouette of the upper floor’s decay. Though the scales of protection blocked his view, the wound etched with two marks spoke volumes. The iron plate clung to his flesh, its inscriptions cracked, revealing the raw pulse beneath. This was the organ born of such creation, a testament to lineage. Yet his own wounds, as devastating, left him trembling. The flesh and bone mingled in hues of rust and ash, a symphony of decay. "Old Li, the magistrate’s curse cannot be repeated," he murmured, his voice a brittle thread. Yet the true wound lay deeper, where the fire had scorched the earth. The elder’s presence loomed, a specter of past violence. Yet the elder’s own injuries, worse than his own, marked him as a man shattered. The blood’s scent clung to the air, a miasma of heat and ruin. "Enough," he said, his breath a whisper. Five minutes passed, then none. "Enough." His lungs burned, sweat a tempest, skin slick with sweat. The walls trembled, shadows shifting. A flash of flame, then darkness. The elder’s form split into two, a chasm of embers. The ground quaked, the air thick with the screams of the fallen. Victory was a distant dream, yet the cost remained etched in every scar. The battle had begun, but the cost of triumph would weigh heavily.

Li Jun stepped before the Horse King, his fist flashing, and smashed the oncoming lightning to pieces.

"Old Li, we're running out of time!"

In midair, a black flying sword shot upward, a furious roar echoing from its blade—Chen Qisheng's voice!

Li Jun's eyes flared with light, he bent his front leg, launched himself like an arrow, aiming for the lone eye wreathed in azure flame, and shot forward!

The lightning receded, darkness surged like a tide, swallowing every silhouette once more.

Only a sudden burst of bewitching purple light flared!

The sword pierced the stars!

*Pfft!*

The keen blade pierced his knuckles, tearing flesh, shattering bone, severing tendons and veins, nearly cleaving his right arm in two.

The purple sword punched through his rear shoulder, its tail flame scorching the rotting flesh to a charred black.

The agony that would fell an ordinary man in an instant could not stir the slightest hesitation in the warrior's brow—only excitement and fervor burned there.

The potency of the Hibernating Official Method made Li Jun like a river‑crossing veteran, pressing forward without retreat.

*Clang!*

Just as the joyous sword‑song rang out, a hand clamped onto the blade, gripping it like a writhing purple serpent, blood spraying from the palm, the edge scraping against bone with a hiss.

"You still think you can run?!"

Li Jun snorted, planted his right foot on the sword, drove power through his left arm, and snapped it upward.

Amid the screech of twisting metal, the star‑piercing sword bent upward in a shocking arc, then with a crack split cleanly in two.

Luo Cheng, leaning against the shattered column, was struck as if by a heavy blow; the remaining eye's green light dimmed, focus lost, he drifted into a daze.

Li Jun snatched a broken blade, lunged forward, the tip leapt from his waist and thrust toward Luo Cheng's abdomen.

A harsh grating rang on as the blade sliced through the Dao armor, pierced the hollow war‑bone, raked upward, and aimed for the Dao foundation lodged in the upper cavity.

At the brink of life and death, Luo Cheng, dazed from the broken sword, finally snapped to, both hands grabbing the upward‑jutting shard, and lifted his head.

Their gazes collided—identical cold, identical killing intent boiling over!

Having come this far in combat, words are superfluous; only the truth of their hands will decide.