Chapter 494: So What About Me?

This provocation proved to be extremely effective. Of course, the more crucial factor was the innate nature of the Demonic Clan—its pride as demigods who refused to resort to such tactics. Their arrogance gave them confidence to defeat opponents in direct confrontation; such despicable actions were beneath them.
From a certain perspective, Rod’s strategies could be seen as cunning and petty. Of course, this was from the demigod’s point of view. From the perspective of the entire continent, it could only be described as a clever tactic. To face a stronger enemy and still choose direct confrontation would be true foolishness—utter stupidity.
Hearing the demigod’s words, Rod felt relieved and let out a long sigh. He had noticed the demigod’s movements earlier and was shocked to see him about to draw his weapon. If the demigod had gone all out and fought, Rod would have had no chance of winning.
In this regard, Rod once again admired the demigod—only such a person could be called a true gentleman. Such a character truly deserved respect; it was rare to find someone with such a calm mindset and noble character.
“Again!” Perhaps feeling some shame, the demigod shouted loudly and rushed at Rod once more, his hands turning into fists that struck like waves.
In an instant, Rod saw waves of palms charging toward him, with a thunderous roar, like endless waves.
“Split the Ground!” With a fierce cry, Rod punched the ground.
Boom!
In an instant, the ground trembled, and cracks spread forward. After spreading over ten meters, they suddenly exploded, sending dust flying everywhere.
Soon, the demigod reappeared, scattering all those attacks into dust with a single blow. A gentle breeze blew, and they vanished. Rod’s purpose was simple: to avoid direct confrontation with that attack.
Then, taking advantage of the opponent’s confusion, he rushed at him. That was exactly what Rod wanted. He wasn’t skilled in boxing; all he could do was strike blindly and entangle the opponent, preventing them from using their full strength, then seize the opportunity to win in the chaos.

This was Rod’s simplest fighting style now—close-quarters combat, preventing the opponent from gaining distance, giving it a rather ruthless feel. Yet it was highly effective. Under Rod’s relentless pressure, the opponent was quickly forced close, and intense collisions ensued once again.

Seeing this kind of battle unfold once more, everyone’s hearts hung in suspense. Only a few people like the Wolf King, who knew the ins and outs, exchanged glances, thinking to themselves that Rod was indeed cunning. If things continued like this, the Demon Marshal would truly be in serious trouble.

Looking at the opponent, their eyes were filled with helplessness. They realized that from now on, no one should offend this cunning kid. With the Demon Marshal’s backing, he seemed to become even more despicable and sinister, inspiring fear. They also sighed secretly for the Demon Marshal—such a straightforward and bold person ruined by Rod was truly regrettable.

Two beams of light moved rapidly, colliding time and again as their bodies clashed repeatedly. The most primitive method revealed the fiercest battle; the most basic collisions were earth-shattering, and the most primal confrontation left people extremely tense.

Pain… Rod felt nothing but agony at that moment. There was only pain—no other sensation, just pain. It penetrated his bones, with every cell screaming in pain, trembling uncontrollably. Every pore seemed to draw in cold air, and a bitter taste filled his throat as another mouthful of blood sprayed out. His internal organs were injured.

“Hold on, I must hold on!” he thought to himself, repeating the same violent strikes with his numb body.

The Demon Marshal on the other side was also in a state of madness. His situation wasn’t any better than his own, if not worse.

The injuries he had hidden before were fully activated at this moment, combined with new injuries from the intense collisions, putting his body in an extremely dire state. His internal organs were displaced, the injuries spreading further, with every cell screaming in pain. It seemed he couldn’t move at all. At this point, he was relying solely on his will to keep fighting; otherwise, he would have stopped long ago.

Watching Rod, the Demon Marshal’s gaze had completely changed to one of awe. Was this the energy of a troll’s true form? His heart began to panic. It seemed the balance of this battle was tilting increasingly in Rod’s favor.

His own body was constantly deteriorating, and with the opponent constantly harassing him, he had no chance to exert his strength. Fighting under such pressure was like having his hands and feet tied, which made him extremely unhappy.
“Damn humans, such weak bodies!” As his body neared collapse, the Demon Lord cursed inwardly.
This human body was truly too weak. He had only possessed it for half a year, with no time to train and instead focusing entirely on restoring his strength. He hadn’t paid much attention to his physical condition, as no one could have predicted such a battle would await him.
As a result, his physical strength was now no different from that of an ordinary person—this was humanity’s greatest flaw. The Demon Lord was confident that if given another half year to restore his strength to level nine and his physical condition to its original state, Rod would definitely not be his match. Even in a direct physical confrontation, his Troll Body wouldn’t allow him to suffer the injuries he had now.
“Back off!” Finally, when his body reached its limit, the Demon Lord could no longer endure it. With a fierce roar, he unleashed all his strength, throwing a punch that tore through space, leaving a clear trajectory before hitting Rod.
It was a powerful move born entirely from his strength, built on his formidable foundation.
Rod didn’t dare underestimate it and quickly retreated, pulling back over ten meters before barely avoiding that terrifying punch! He hadn’t expected the Demon Lord to choose a self-destructive approach. If he had charged forward ignoring the punch, he might have killed the Demon Lord, but what about himself? He would likely have suffered the same fate.
Gaining a temporary respite, the Demon Lord stood there, panting heavily, staring at Rod with a ferocious expression.
Seeing the Demon Lord, everyone couldn’t help but gasp. His body was covered in wounds, and blood stained his entire body! Some timid people even closed their eyes, unable to bear the sight.
Was this still a human? Could such a person even fight? The extent of his injuries in such a confrontation spoke volumes.
On the other side, Rod’s condition had improved somewhat. His body was still intact, but every pore was oozing blood, staining his entire body red—a sight equally terrifying. The most primal form of combat, the most horrific injuries—these struck at everyone’s hearts. It was certain they would never forget this battle in their lives.
“You’re strong! The Troll race, hahaha! The Troll Body—truly powerful!” Glaring fiercely at Rod, the Demon Lord said with rage turning into mockery.

“You lost!” Rod said coldly, not answering but staring intently at the Demon Marshal!
“Lost? Impossible! How could I possibly lose to you? Impossible! Hmph, I still have the strength to fight—let’s continue!” the Demon Marshal roared loudly.
Unfortunately, his body began to protest, unable to move even a step; it was completely destroyed.
“Bastard! Problems arise at this moment—so what if I choose another body!” With a light snort, the demon soul floated up and swiftly darted toward the crowd.
“Bastard!” Seeing this, Rod, the Wolf King, and the others all roared in anger simultaneously.
The crowd instantly turned chaotic, everyone fearing for themselves. Who wouldn’t know what the Demon Marshal’s soul wanted at this point? He wanted to find another body to fight Rod again—no one wanted to become such a vessel.
“Come back!” Rod and the others shouted in unison from behind, unleashing all their divine essences at once to surround the demon soul in the center.
“Do these mere gods’ divine essences think they can block my way?” The demon soul roared in fury, now nothing but thick black smoke—illusory and impossible to discern clearly.
“What about me?” Rod’s cold voice came through as he appeared before the demon soul, unleashing his own divine essence and speaking calmly.
The Divine King’s divine essence appeared, radiating golden light—far beyond what ordinary divine essences could match, actually surpassing them by far.
“Rod, you… Bastard! Damn it! If you’ve got the guts, fight me again!” Seeing Rod, the demon soul’s expression changed as it roared loudly.
“You lost. There’s no need for another fight. How about we have a proper battle in a hundred years? Today, you’ll come with me to the Sacred Land of Divine Sorrow!” With a sigh, Rod spoke softly. He felt somewhat ashamed of the battle against the Demon Marshal—he had indeed used some underhanded tactics; it hadn’t been a fair fight.
“The Sacred Land of Divine Sorrow? Damn it! I won’t go to that hellish place! If you’ve got the guts, seal me! I want to see if your strength is enough to seal my soul!” At the mention of the Sacred Land of Divine Sorrow, the demon soul jumped up as if its tail had been stepped on, roaring fiercely, showing an unyielding determination.
“If he can’t do it, what about me? What about our six divine essences combined? Our combined strength should be enough, right?” With a cold snort, the Ancestor appeared right in front, looking at the divine essences and asking coldly.