Chapter 192: The Ultimate Duel

Faced with the combined attack of the two elders, Rod felt gloomy. An inexplicable sense of desolation and resentment arose in his heart. It grew stronger, filling his entire mind, leaving only hatred and a desire for slaughter. The world turned blood-red, and Rod’s expression became monstrous, giving off an aura of madness. At this moment, he seemed to be in the same state and feeling as when his bloodline first awakened, as if he had returned to that brutal battle in the forest outside the imperial capital.

No one noticed that the Dark Dragon in Rod’s hand suddenly turned blood-red. The originally pitch-black blade was rapidly losing its darkness. Those dark substances turned into gas, flowing through the Dark Dragon and into Rod’s body at an increasing speed. With each influx, the blade grew redder, and the darkness on it diminished. Rod’s eyes grew more eerie with each absorption, his hair quickly changing color to a pitch-black, bottomless shade, exuding an otherworldly grace.

This scene finally caught everyone’s attention. Only then did they realize something was wrong with Rod.

“Impossible… How… how could he reverse his demonic aura? How could he be a demon?” The head of the Nash family was, after all, a member of the demon race and understood many things far better than the Grand Elder of the Purple-Winged Thunder Eagle. He shouted in excitement right away.

“Damn it! Reverse demonic aura? Isn’t he human? A newcomer from the Greater Continent? How could he reverse his demonic aura? What’s going on?” The Grand Elder of the Purple-Winged Thunder Eagle also shouted loudly.

His hand continued to form seals, even faster. “Whether you’re a demon or a human, I’ll make you die here today.” The dark-faced man growled, finding this young man increasingly unfathomable. There were too many mysteries, and such a person posed an even greater threat—definitely not someone to keep alive.

“Damn fate! I won’t let you succeed! If you want me dead, I won’t die! So what if I defy heaven today? The Purple-Winged Thunder Eagle clan and the Nash family, remember this—so long as I, Rod, am not dead today, I will return to Dark Moon City and take the lives of all members of your clans!” Standing with his sword in hand, the Dark Dragon was no longer completely black but had turned a deep red, an eerie crimson that made it seem as though its blade was flowing liquid red. Looking at it for too long would plunge one deep into its horror.

“Still daring to be stubborn at the brink of death? Today is your last day—there’s no future for you!” With a cold snort, the old man of the Nash family grew furious upon seeing Rod still so arrogant despite such dire circumstances.

“Elder, I’ll hold him off. Hurry! Resolve this quickly before those dragons show up and interfere!” Realizing that some dragon members were still in Dark Moon City, fearing they might come to disrupt things once they learned of the situation, the old Nash instructed.

His eyes turned blood red, and the demonic energy around him erupted in a way even Rod hadn’t anticipated. Waves of demonic energy circulated, absorbing Rod’s resentment. With each absorption, it grew stronger, gradually filling all his meridians. In an instant, his meridians were filled with an icy coldness beyond compare. The combat energy stored in his dantian was forcibly drawn out!

Upon encountering the combat energy, the demonic energy instantly merged with it, swirling rapidly before completely blending together, indistinguishable from one another. At this moment, the combat energy turned a gloomy dark green—a type never seen before. Upon closer inspection, fine threads as thin as silver wires could be seen within it, in blue, red, and black—representing three different types of combat energy. The silver threads were dense and particularly visible within the dark green gas.

At this moment, Rod’s combat energy underwent another profound transformation due to the fusion of demonic energy and resentment. Rod was now moving further and further away from the normal path of cultivation, stepping onto an increasingly bizarre one. No one knew what the future would hold. Not even Rod, as such a thing had never happened before. He was the first, and he had to explore everything on his own.

He might die, or he might survive. But if he survived, his future would undoubtedly be filled with endless hope. No one could predict how high he would reach by then.

Gusts of cold wind blew without any apparent cause, causing his long hair to flutter. It looked somewhat eerie as it danced in the rain. Rod’s eyes were now completely blood red! His clothes had been evaporated and dried by the combat energy, fluttering in the wind with a sense of freedom.

“Get lost!” Rod no longer knew what he was doing. He simply acted based on his instincts, pursuing his goals as guided by his consciousness.

At this point, the Dark Dragon had become an inseparable part of Rod’s body, utterly intertwined with him.

Just as the old man of the Nash family stepped forward and was about to punch Rod in the chest, with the fist less than twenty centimeters away and its force already tearing through Rod’s clothes, and as a triumphant smile appeared on the old man’s lips, Rod suddenly roared.

A furious roar shook the heavens and earth, and waves of energy surged forth. Time seemed to stand still. Immediately afterward, Rod swung his sword—blood-red dragons and tigers appeared, blocking his chest in an instant.

“Boom…” A massive collision sound echoed, and Rod was flung backward like a kite with its string cut. At that critical moment, he managed to block the punch aimed at his chest.

The pain in his chest made Rod spit out blood, his eyes glowing even brighter, yet he wore a strange, cold smile.

As for the old man of the Nash family, he was horrified—his full-force attack had been blocked, and he had been pushed back more than ten steps.

“Die!” he shouted violently. But Rod, like an immortal warrior, charged forward again, unharmed by the pain.

His long sword moved swiftly—shattering the sky, stirring the dragons, with roars echoing as if powered by nothing but his own strength. His movements were fluid and seamless, each step precise and ingenious. In just a short time, he forced the old Nash man to retreat step by step.

“I sacrifice my blood to the heavens and earth—let the soul thunder roar through the sky! Soul thunder, appear!” At that moment, the roar of the Grand Elder of the Purple-Winged Thunder Eagles came from behind.

With that voice, Rod spat out more blood, his face growing paler. Then he waved his hands, drawing a circle. With a simple motion within the circle, a bolt of lightning appeared. With a wave of his hands, the lightning and the circle vanished into the sky.

Boom… Dark clouds gathered, darkening the world. The torrential rain grew more terrifying, and the sky grew even darker, so dark that nothing could be seen. Winds howled everywhere, and the sky above that area was filled with swirling dark clouds.

Boom… The deep roaring sound penetrated people’s souls, shaking everyone’s heart. All faces turned pale.

“Soul thunder, fall!” Gathering his remaining strength, the Grand Elder saw this scene, a trace of madness flashing across his pale face. With another gesture, he spat out more blood. Instead of falling to the ground, the blood defied logic and floated straight into the thunder clouds. As the blood merged with them, the clouds gradually changed color—just a few drops turned them an eerie red.

Within the eerie red clouds, several streaks of purple lightning moved around, continuously merging and compressing, exuding an overwhelming force that filled everyone with terror. Even a powerful warrior at the advanced stage like the old man of the Nash family couldn’t help but tremble in fear.
“Damn you, old man! What have you done?” Frustrated and furious, he began casting magic despite still being inside the combat zone. The old man Nash couldn’t help but curse, terrified by its power. He knew that even a single strike from it would be fatal.
“Retreat quickly! Leave this to me!” Perhaps using this magic had drained him of too much energy, the eldest priest was pale and weak, speaking without any trace of anger toward the old man Nash—after all, anyone would lose their sanity under such circumstances.
“Damn you! I’ll remember this!” cursing fiercely with a grave expression, the old man Nash hurriedly tried to retreat, but Rod pressed hard, giving him no chance. As the thunderclouds in the sky grew denser, ready to descend at any moment, he grew increasingly anxious.
“Tyrant Fist!” Gritting his teeth, a determined look flashed in his eyes as he stared intently at Rod. He no longer hid his ultimate skill and unleashed it—this fist, capable of shaking mountains and rivers, was the essence passed down through the Nash family for a thousand years. Known as the greatest fist technique in the Dark Source, it was said to have been lost for a thousand years—unimaginable that it would be used by this old man today.
When the Tyrant Fist was thrown, those around him were forced to take more than ten steps back before they could stabilize themselves, their faces filled with shock. Such was the dominance of the Tyrant Fist.
“Hurry over! That kid is in trouble!” From afar, sensing two terrifying forces, two figures rushed toward them at full speed, both exclaiming in shock.
“Swords of the Gods!” Under the immense pressure and threat of death, a technique suddenly flashed in Rod’s mind, as if he had practiced it countless times before. With a simple gesture, he summoned it.
The Swords of the Gods could slay all beings; not even gods could escape—death was inevitable! As the name suggested, even the gods would perish!
The Dark Dragon pointed skyward as elements rushed into it, causing it to emit a deep hum. Its entire body glowed red, illuminating the entire sky!
With overwhelming power and sword energy filling the space, it clashed with the old man Nash’s fist strikes, creating a screeching friction sound as if the space itself might shatter.

At this moment, Old Nash is like a tyrannosaurus, and Rod is like a fierce tiger; in this clash between dragon and tiger, one must die. Who will be the one to laugh last? No one knows. The onlookers around have become numb—how could mere youngsters like them possibly judge or predict such a battle at the peak?