Chapter 80: A Worthy Opponent

Qian Kun shrugged with a faint smile, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “Commander of Purgatory, is it? I can imagine Lord Mo Si’s strength. But there’s something I have to tell you, Lord Mo Si. Decades ago, I killed a man named Narod. I suppose you’re familiar with him?”

“Narod? He was killed by you? So, you came here well prepared!” Mo Si narrowed his eyes in surprise, gazing at Qian Kun.

“Mo Si, I didn’t come here to chat. I came to fight you. Enough talk—prepare yourself!” Qian Kun said bluntly.

Mo Si’s face darkened slightly at these words. “Very well. Since you seek battle, I’ll grant it. I only hope you won’t regret it.”

Even as he spoke, a massive black hammer materialized in Mo Si’s hand. “Boy, take my hammer first! If you can’t withstand even one blow, you’d best return to wherever you came from!”

With that, Mo Si swung the black hammer lightly. Silent and formless, the hammer swept forward, sending out eerie, rippling waves in all directions from its core. The blow seemed slow, but in an instant it was already above Qian Kun.

Qian Kun’s gaze sharpened. Suddenly, a heavy black sword appeared in his grip. He swung it with apparent slowness, as if the blade weighed a mountain, distorting and warping the very space around him as he met the hammer head-on.

At the moment of impact, the enormous hammer trembled gently, as if striking the surface of water, sending ripples outward. Qian Kun’s heavy sword shuddered violently, emitting a mournful wail. At the same time, Mo Si’s hammer quivered as if battered by ceaseless waves, and he was thrown back, barely able to control his body.

Qian Kun, too, retreated a few steps in midair before regaining his footing. He looked at Mo Si with newfound gravity. “Mo Si’s mastery of the rules of Destruction is truly fearsome. Even just his Destruction God avatar must be on par with the stronger Shura-level beings.”

“What?” Mo Si’s eyes widened in amazement as he regarded Qian Kun. “Earth laws? And your strength has reached such a level! Definitely Shura-tier combat power—no wonder you could kill Narod. That pulsing attack must fuse several profound mysteries to wield such force.”

“Good. Try another strike!” Mo Si’s gaze now burned with fierce anticipation, and he grinned broadly as he raised his hammer and struck at Qian Kun once more.

With a thunderous roar, the might of Mo Si’s hammer this time was terrifying beyond words. As he swung, the black hammer vibrated, and the surrounding space shattered and crumbled like glass. For an instant, it seemed even Mo Si could barely control the power of his own blow.

“I can’t hold back,” Qian Kun muttered, his eyes narrowing as he gripped the heavy black sword. His swing was like hefting a mountain—slow, deliberate, freezing the very air itself.

With a muffled boom, the hammer and sword collided, unleashing a black hole at their point of impact. The spatial rift expanded to a dozen feet across before gradually slowing.

Both Qian Kun and Mo Si were hurled back as if struck by a mountain. Qian Kun recovered swiftly, but Mo Si was in a sorry state—his palm split open and blood streamed out, his face flushed as he coughed up blood, clearly wounded.

“Haha! How exhilarating!” Yet Mo Si only laughed heartily, undaunted by his injuries. His gaze towards Qian Kun grew even more intense. “It’s been so long since I fought a true opponent of my own tier. Qian Kun, I never imagined that one so unknown would possess such power. It seems my years hidden away in Hanti Fortress have left me ignorant of the world!”

Qian Kun shook his head with a chuckle. “Mo Si, it’s not your fault you don’t know me. To tell the truth, I’ve only been in Hell for a few decades.”

“Oh? You mean you were in the Material Plane before? To reach such strength there and only then come to Hell—is that even possible?” Mo Si stared in disbelief.

“There’s nothing impossible about it,” Qian Kun replied with a smile. “Mo Si, what if I told you that someone I know cultivated in the Material Plane until nearly reaching perfection and still didn’t leave? Would you believe it?”

Mo Si was even more astounded. “Incredible! Is he from the same Material Plane as you? Where are you from, that so many top-tier high gods have emerged from your plane? Are you escapees from a Plane Prison?”

“He rose in the Plane Prison and escaped by luck. But I’m not the same,” Qian Kun said, shaking his head. “It’s just that I didn’t dare venture into Hell until I had enough power. There are countless strong ones here. Before, I was just a mid-rank god—if I’d come to Hell, any slightly powerful high god could have killed me.”

“A mid-rank god? Don’t tell me you deliberately held off advancing to high god so you could better fuse the profound mysteries of the laws?” Mo Si couldn’t help but ask in surprise.

Qian Kun smiled and nodded. “That’s right. Only decades ago did I become a high god, and then I left the Material Plane for Hell.”

“You…” Mo Si looked at him, at a loss for words, then broke into laughter. “You’re one patient fellow! I suppose you haven’t faced a truly top-tier powerhouse since arriving in Hell, have you? Since you’ve come to challenge me, I won’t hold back. I’ll let you see my strongest technique.”

“Come, then! I know your greatest mastery lies in the Way of Death. You can control Seven-Star Demons with your soul—you’re probably only a hair’s breadth from Perfection in the soul arts, aren’t you? Show me the true might of your soul attack,” Qian Kun said, his eyes blazing with anticipation.

Mo Si’s expression grew solemn. “You’re right. In the laws of Death, I am indeed close to Perfection. In matters of the soul, across the Seven Divine Planes and Four Supreme Planes, none but those who have attained Perfection dare claim superiority over me. My soul attacks are unstoppable for all but the Shura-level, unless their soul defense is exceptionally strong. Are you certain you want to try?”

“Don’t worry. I have confidence in my soul defense,” Qian Kun replied with calm assurance. “Short of a Lord God or a Perfected High God, I don’t believe anyone can kill me.”

“Very well! If you’re so confident, take my soul attack!” Mo Si’s voice grew sharp as his entire presence shifted. The wild aura of destruction was instantly replaced by a deathly stillness. In that moment, he seemed to become the very incarnation of the God of Death, his eyes turning cold and remorseless, filled with utter silence.

Mo Si slowly raised his hand, which quickly became wreathed in a phantom gray-black palm print. With a wave, the imprint shot through the air toward Qian Kun at an astonishing speed. “Be careful—take my Soul-Extinguishing Palm!”

Qian Kun stood his ground, making no attempt to dodge. The illusory palm print sank into his body. He frowned slightly and closed his eyes.

Within Qian Kun’s mind, the Soul-Extinguishing Palm suddenly surged toward the earth-yellow, radiant high god spark at the core of his soul. At the same time, his mental strength surged forth, transforming into countless phantom sword shadows. Like crashing waves, they clashed against the palm imprint, causing it to tremble and flicker, growing fainter yet still slowly approaching Qian Kun’s god spark.