Wei Ji stood silently beside Ren's half-eaten corpse. The roots had already consumed most of his flesh, leaving only the shriveled remains of what used to be a proud disciple of the Sword Shandian Sect. The sound of cracking roots and sizzling air filled the room, a steady rhythm of destruction that seemed endless. Every strike, every movement, every clash of spiritual force shook the foundations of the hall.

Across the shattered floor, the two elders—one wrapped in shadows and black mist, the other blazing with thunderlight—faced each other once more. Their breathing was heavy, their eyes sharp as blades. Neither spoke at first. The silence between them was filled with tension so heavy that even the air seemed to stop moving. The demonic elder slowly raised his hand, and roots began to writhe from beneath his feet like living serpents, spreading across the ground in thick coils. The sword elder tightened his grip on his lightning blade, sparks jumping wildly from its edge.

"A pity, you dare stain my sect's name in this place," the sword elder said at last. His voice was low but full of restrained fury. "For that alone, I'll grind your bones into dust."

The demonic elder tilted his head slightly, his tone calm and mocking. "You talk as if your name means anything in this world. All I see is arrogance and empty pride. I've killed countless 'righteous' men like you, each one convinced the heavens favored them. Do you think you're any different?"

The sword elder's spiritual power flared. "Enough talk. Let your strength speak instead."

The demonic elder smirked. "Gladly."

The moment the words left his lips, the entire hall exploded into chaos.

The demonic elder's roots surged upward like an ocean of darkness. They filled every inch of space, splitting through the stone floor, climbing up the pillars, and breaking through the cracked ceiling. Hundreds of them whipped through the air, moving with terrifying speed and strength. Each root carried a poisonous black aura that reeked of death.

The sword elder met them with thunder. His sword spun in his hands, forming arcs of lightning that tore through the air like roaring dragons. The moment blade met root, the clash was deafening. A blinding flash filled the room, followed by a thunderous crack that shattered stone and blew apart what remained of the walls.

"Lightning Sword Art—Storm Break!" the sword elder roared.

Bolts of lightning rained down from the cracks in the ceiling, summoned by his spiritual Qi. They crashed into the roots, burning them to ash. But for every one destroyed, two more grew in its place, twisting and coiling like an endless hydra. The demonic elder's laughter echoed through the smoke and destruction, low and cruel.

"You think light can overcome the dark? Foolish child of thunder!" he shouted. His voice boomed like a monster's roar as the roots surged forward again.

Wei Ji was forced to retreat farther into the corner, the sheer pressure of their fight crushing the air from his lungs. His robes fluttered violently as waves of spiritual energy swept through the room. He could barely keep his footing, his eyes wide as he watched the two monsters in human form tear apart the hall like it was paper.

Every clash was like the collision of worlds.

The sword elder's blade glowed so bright that it hurt to look at. Every swing carried enough power to split boulders. When his sword sliced through the roots, sparks burst into tiny arcs that crackled across the floor. Yet the demonic elder's roots never ceased. They grew from his back, his arms, and even the ground, filling the space like a web of living tendrils.

Their powers were opposite yet equal. Lightning burned the roots, but darkness swallowed the light. When the demonic elder pressed forward, the sword elder countered with relentless ferocity, cutting through the endless tide. Each move was faster than the last, each attack more desperate, more determined to overwhelm the other.

The ground split open beneath them. The ceiling caved in partially, sending chunks of stone crashing down. The smell of burning wood, scorched earth, and blood filled the air. Wei Ji felt his ears ringing from the endless thunderclaps.

"Your lightning is fierce," the demonic elder said between blows, his voice echoing like the whisper of a ghost. "But you lack patience. You strike like a storm—loud, bright, and gone in an instant."

The sword elder growled, sparks bursting from his blade as he slashed again. "And you hide behind filth, afraid to face me directly!"

The demonic elder laughed, the sound sharp and wild. "Afraid? I am nature itself. You cannot cut what grows from the earth!"

He slammed his hand into the ground. At once, massive thorn-covered roots erupted from beneath the sword elder's feet, wrapping around his legs like chains. The elder struggled, his lightning flashing across his body as he slashed downward, severing the roots before they could pierce his flesh. The smell of burning wood and ash filled the air again.

The demonic elder took a step forward, his crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You are strong, I'll admit that. But strength means nothing when it fades."

"Then I'll show you what true strength looks like!" the sword elder shouted. His aura burst outward, filling the entire hall with a blinding blue light. His blade trembled, then released a wave of lightning that tore through everything in front of him.

The roots were annihilated. The entire floor split open from the force, creating a massive crater that glowed faintly from the heat. The demonic elder was thrown back, crashing into the far wall. But even before the dust settled, he was already rising again, laughing softly as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Good," he said with a grin. "Very good."

The sword elder didn't wait. He charged again, swinging his blade with renewed fury. Lightning and darkness clashed once more, filling the night with sound and fury. Every movement was desperate now, fueled by exhaustion and pride rather than strategy. The two of them had long stopped thinking—they were simply fighting, driven by instinct and rivalry.

Their silhouettes moved so fast that Wei Ji could barely follow. Flashes of light and shadows twisted together, tearing apart what remained of the hall.

Finally, the two elders struck each other at the same time.

The explosion that followed shook the entire mountain. The blast sent Wei Ji tumbling backward, crashing against the wall. When the dust cleared, both elders were still standing—but barely.

The sword elder's robes were shredded, his arm bleeding. The demonic elder's black cloak was torn apart, revealing deep cuts across his chest. Both of them were panting, their breaths heavy and uneven. Their auras flickered weakly, no longer roaring with strength.

They stared at each other across the ruined battlefield, surrounded by ash and smoke.

The demonic elder gave a tired grin. "You're not bad… for a lightning brat."

The sword elder's lips curved into a faint smirk despite his pain. "And you're not as immortal as you think, demon."

For a long moment, neither moved. The tension hung between them like a drawn bowstring. The fight had drained them both—every ounce of power, every drop of pride spent in that endless storm.

Finally, the demonic elder exhaled slowly and lowered his hand. "Enough. If we keep going, this place will collapse. You'll die, and I'll waste what remains of my strength."

The sword elder's gaze lingered on him, then on Ren's corpse lying between them. His jaw tightened, but he nodded once, his tone cold and firm. "You're right. This fight ends here. For now."

The demonic elder smiled faintly, though his eyes were sharp. "Until next time, thunder man."

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