Chapter 121: A Battle of Wills! [Please Support!]

Thunder rumbled, shaking the empty chamber.

Gravel and dust swirled in the air. The lightning had dispersed, but its lingering heat remained, as if trapped within a furnace.

"How is this possible?"

Qingyuan clutched his arm, channeling his internal energy to suppress the injury and dissipate the faint, residual electricity left within the wound. His expression turned grim and uncertain.

It was the same divine lightning technique, yet he had clearly cast his first. The figure opposite him, wielding the white jade ruler to unleash the lightning, had been a fraction of a second slower.

Lightning moves with such immense speed—crossing millions of miles in an instant—that this single fraction of a second should have been the difference between life and death. Yet, even though the opponent had unleashed his lightning after him, the two strikes collided almost simultaneously. This meant that, when performing the exact same technique, Qingyuan himself was a split second slower than his opponent.

When the two bolts of lightning met, they should have canceled each other out. Instead, the opponent's lightning possessed enough residual power to injure him. From this, it was clear that the power of the opponent's technique was significantly greater than his own.

"It shouldn't be like this..."

Logically, the person before him was a manifestation created from his own essence. In terms of cultivation, Taoist attainments, and spells, they should have been identical. Why, then, was this manifested figure faster in executing the lightning technique, and why was the power of his strike three parts stronger than his own?

Furthermore, regarding the Five Elements arts from earlier, the opponent seemed to cast them with a mere thought, without the need for hand seals or incantations. Qingyuan himself could only cast fire-based arts instantly; all other arts required hand seals and incantations, far from the level of effortless execution.

"How could there be such a difference?"

The thought flashed through his mind and vanished. He had no time to ponder it, nor dared to be careless, and could only hold his iron rod horizontally before his chest.

The figure opposite watched him silently, then raised the white jade ruler once more.

Qingyuan’s expression shifted. He waved his hand, conjuring a mass of flame the size of a millstone that rolled through the air toward his opponent. To seize the initiative, Qingyuan followed closely behind the fire, channeling his internal energy to its limit. His iron rod flared with a crimson glow as he poured all his strength into a fierce strike.

*Boom!*

A massive torrent of water suddenly surged forth, sweeping away the flames Qingyuan had conjured. Knowing his fire art would not succeed, Qingyuan had already lunged forward, swinging his rod through the air.

The "Qingyuan" opposite him, having extinguished the fire with the water, remained unhurried. He raised the white jade ruler, meeting the attack with composure.

A deafening crash echoed out.

Qingyuan felt his iron rod vibrate; the webbing between his thumb and forefinger nearly split, his arm went numb, and he could not help but stagger backward.

The opponent had also retreated a few steps, each one sinking into the earth and leaving footprints an inch deep.

"Does this manifested 'me' possess such immense strength as well?"

Qingyuan’s pupils constricted. His chest heaved, and his undergarments were soaked with sweat.

After his recent healing, Qingyuan’s strength had increased significantly. He felt that, relying solely on his physical power without the use of energy or arts, he could easily crack stones and shatter monuments. Yet, the brute strength of the figure before him was identical.

However, this "Qingyuan" seemed far more proficient in applying that force. Even though Qingyuan had seized the initiative and caught his opponent off guard, their collision had resulted in a stalemate rather than an advantage.

"Fire, rise!"

Qingyuan let out a low shout. He brought his hands together, condensing a stream of flame that shot out like a long dragon.

The opponent’s expression remained icy and blank. He brought his hands together, manifesting a clear stream that rushed forward and condensed into a water dragon.

Water and fire whirled, rolling like a tide with overwhelming momentum.

Qingyuan retreated a step, gasping for air, his eyes filled with shock. Because this time... he had fallen behind once again.

Just then, he saw the figure opposite him raise the white jade ruler, energy circulating as lightning patterns began to form.

This time, a strange glint flashed in Qingyuan’s eyes. He diverted a thread of internal energy to his eyes, watching the opponent’s process of casting the lightning with absolute clarity.

The amount of energy used, the circulation path of the lightning patterns, and the subtle shifts in the flow—all were captured by his gaze.

Broadly speaking, it was equivalent to his own method, yet there were incredibly minute differences.

These differences were so subtle they were almost impossible to detect, yet this slight variation allowed the lightning technique to be executed to perfection, manifesting the maximum power his current level of cultivation could achieve.

Even the speed at which the lightning was released was a fraction faster. Although it was less than half a breath, in the midst of a life-or-death struggle, such a tiny advantage was everything.

"So that's how it is..."

Qingyuan suddenly understood.

With a roar, crimson lightning surged toward him.

Qingyuan also condensed a spell in his hands, casting a fire art to meet it. This flame was intended to dampen the power of the lightning and delay its momentum; he did not harbor the delusion of stopping it entirely. The lightning technique was fierce and held the power of heaven, and Qingyuan’s cultivation was still shallow. His proficiency in fire arts could not compare to the lightning technique and remained a step behind.

The flames met the lightning and immediately scattered. The lightning’s power was slightly reduced and momentarily hindered.

Qingyuan lunged forward, using his iron rod to block, barely stopping the crimson bolt, gasping for breath. Knowing this was a rare opportunity, he prepared to counter-attack.

But just then, he saw the opponent already charging toward him.

The white jade ruler, etched with countless red lightning patterns, descended abruptly. A whistling wind rose, radiating a crimson light.

Qingyuan, caught off guard, raised his iron rod in defense.

He felt a massive force descend from above, like a collapsing mountain, unstoppable.

The lightning surged, light flashing.

Qingyuan spat out a mouthful of blood and was sent flying backward.

With a thunderous crash, he slammed into the rock wall, shattering the foot-thick stone and embedding himself within it.

"This is bad..."

Qingyuan struggled to rise, but vomited more blood. His body was drained of strength, and he collapsed.

If the opponent pressed his advantage now, a single strike of that ruler would cost him his life.

"Is this how I die at my own hands?"

He gasped twice, but then a strange silence fell. Startled, he forced himself to look up into the room, only to see that it was still empty... there was no one inside, only the remnants of the battle.

The charred rock and earth, the lingering intent of the lightning, the pockmarked walls splashed by water droplets—all were in total disarray.

But the other Qingyuan was nowhere to be found.

"Gone?"

Qingyuan’s expression turned to one of astonishment, mixed with the sensation of having survived a brush with death.

Only then did he realize he was drenched from head to toe.

His cultivation had reached the Third Heaven, allowing him to endure cold and heat, regulate his breathing, and even control his sweat. Yet, in this struggle, he had channeled his energy so desperately that his internal circulation had been disrupted, leaving him drenched in sweat, his undergarments soaked and his breathing ragged.