Qingyi raised his blade, protecting himself from Jiantian's attack. His feet sank into the ground as an explosion of metallic sparks filled the air.

He gritted his teeth and used the first form of the Tempest Monarch's sword art, pushing Jiantian back with a thunderous, powerful thrust.

Taking a moment to himself, Qingyi inhaled deeply.

Even being suppressed, the power of a cultivator at the peak of the false immortal was still frightening, but fortunately, it wasn't enough.

With a gentle smile, Qingyi attacked again. His body split into afterimages as his blade flew towards Jiantian's neck.

The Wang family patriarch barely managed to dodge, a thin trickle of blood running down his neck.

"What's the matter, little cuckold Wang Jiantian? Don't you want to face your grandpa here directly?" teased Qingyi, bursting into laughter.

"Don't you dare call me that even once more!" roared Patriarch Wang, charging towards Qingyi.

"Or what?" The provocation in Qingyi's voice died away abruptly, drowned out by the clang of blades meeting and the roar of the shockwave that spread through the forest.

The soft ground beneath their feet sank into a crater, with cracks spreading for dozens of meters.

Suddenly, Jiantian shuddered. The suppression he felt from Qingyi's bloodline grew even stronger, accompanied by an intense murderous intent.

"Tell me, little cuckold Jiantian, what are you going to do? Piss your pants like your son did before he died?"

Qingyi asked again, putting more strength into his grip and sending Jiantian away.

He watched Jiantian's face contort in fury, his Qi exploding with full force around his body, licks of flame taking over everything.

"You... fucking son of a bitch!" roared Jiantian, readying his sword, a hurricane of flames surrounding the blade.

"You'll pay for this with a thousand - no, TEN THOUSAND DEATHS! YOUR SOUL WILL NEVER REST!"

Despite the threats, Qingyi hardly cared. In fact, he was happy.

The less self-control Jiantian had over his own Qi, the easier his fight would be.

He retracted his heaven-defying thunder sword. Exactly thirty-two ethereal, thunderous blades surrounded his body, their powerful lightning Qi making the surrounding air boil.

In that brief moment, their eyes met and they both attacked.

From Jiantian's sword, a thread of flame emerged, slashing towards Qingyi, offering no resistance to the thirty-two thundering blades.

Qingyi surrounded his body with a wall of ice, which held off the attack for a brief moment before giving way, forcing him to hold back the blow with only the black dragon's scales, driving his sword into the ground.

Jiantian's face was filled with ecstasy as he watched Qingyi being engulfed in flames, narrowly dodging the many swords that flew towards him.

He barely noticed when they suddenly stopped flying, the ethereal metal that made them up swelling before exploding into balls of lightning, swallowing everything within dozens of meters.

When the explosions caused by both attacks stopped, they revealed two figures.

Qingyi was almost intact, except for a few burns on the black dragon scales.

Jiantian, on the other hand, was on his knees, his clothes torn, his hair reduced to burnt ends and his eyes filled with deep shock.

He was a false immortal, destined to become a true immortal and live for at least fifty thousand years.

How could he not get rid of that little bug with ease? How could he be suffering against Qingyi?

He wouldn't just die, would he? Without even avenging his son's death?

Such a thought immediately filled Jiantian with horror, more horror than even that huge dragon caused him.

His beloved Haoran... he had to avenge him, no matter what.

Wang Jiantian's Qi changed once again, this time powerful enough to make Qingyi take a step backwards, a pillar of flame rising up to the heavens.

It only took Qingyi a single moment to realize what was happening, his heart sinking slightly.

That was a forced breakthrough, and powerful enough that the residual Qi alone was capable of tearing his skin beneath the black dragon's scales.

"Brat... today you die," Jiantian's voice echoed. His body floated a few centimeters off the ground, seized by an absurd amount of power, his eyes replaced by nothing but glowing flaming orbs.

The dragon on Qingyi's back roared at Jiantian, who shuddered but didn't lower his head.

Even with his Qi being suppressed, he was sure that this battle was won.

He didn't know if he would survive that advance, but it didn't matter.

He already had the power of a true immortal, even if his body and soul exploded. All he had to do was kill Qingyi.

"Ah... hahaha." A bitter laugh escaped Qingyi's lips.

The heaven-defying thunder sword was surrounded by a new kind of power: gray flames, the heat of which made the flames of Jiantian's advance look like fake fire in children's toys.

"It's been a long time since I've had a battle this difficult... Don't let me down," said Qingyi, spitting a gout of blood onto the ground.

At that moment, they both attacked. Jiantian used his family's most powerful technique, his sword turning into a flash of light, while Qingyi used no technique at all.

The moment these blades met, the world split between the gray flames of Qingyi and the blazing flames of Jiantian, whose face immediately filled with terror.

He was pushing everything towards Qingyi, all the Qi generated by that forced breakthrough, all the energy from the heavens that entered his body.

Yet nothing was enough - no, quite the opposite, his Qi seemed to be being devoured by those flames, like dry leaves used to put out a fire.

It didn't take more than a moment for Jiantian to notice the flames climbing up the handle of his blade and spreading to his hand, reducing flesh to bone. Intense pain ripped a muffled scream from his throat.

His Qi ceased and the melted tip of his blade fell to the ground, the heaven-defying thunder sword plunging into his chest.

"So this is how I die... but I'm not going alone!" Jiantian pointed his remaining hand towards Qingyi, finally using his law.

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