Chapter 57: The Ultimate Showdown

None could fathom how Su Yi managed to face blades and fists without fear; it defied every principle of martial arts. In the world of warriors, there were indeed legendary external skills that rendered the body impervious to weapons, but such techniques only protected against the blows of ordinary men, much like the chainmail and lamellar armor of ancient Blue Star could withstand certain cold weapon strikes.

Yet, the same weapon in the hands of a master could unleash many times, even tenfold, the destructive force compared to a commoner. Against such overwhelming power, even the most advanced external martial skills became obsolete, just as the once-dominant plate armor of Blue Star was forced into retirement when faced with the advent of firearms.

As for the protective aura of innate masters, though it rivaled and even surpassed the finest body-guarding techniques, its main purpose was to mitigate some of the harm from true energy—it could never render one completely immune.

The truth was, Su Yi relied upon the crystallization of technology from another world. In modern society, the defensive capabilities of stab-resistant and bulletproof clothing were grossly underestimated. In fact, the two garments Su Yi wore, purchased at great expense, offered defense far beyond the maximum force of cold weapons.

Take the bulletproof vest he wore: it was rated at level four protection, the highest standard for American military armor; an ordinary person clad in such gear would find even submachine guns useless against them.

Consider the power of military firearms. Take the familiar AK-47, for example: its maximum kinetic energy on firing reached two thousand joules. Though actual hits might not reach this theoretical limit, its power still exceeded that of regular bows and crossbows by more than ten times.

Thus, combining his innate true energy with these two garments, Su Yi achieved such astonishing results.

Regardless of what the members of the Daylight Palace thought, Su Yi swiftly descended from the air and launched another attack.

Frightened by his ghostly, unpredictable movements, the crowd no longer dared to spread out. They formed a semicircle around Zuo Qingzong as their center.

Zuo Qingzong bellowed, his fists weaving myriad shadows, enveloping Su Yi in dazzling brilliance.

But Su Yi sought the weak points, twisting impossibly through the air, sweeping across several yards in a posture that should have been unattainable. The Demon Edge flickered, striking the throats of two Daylight Palace disciples.

Their weapons fell to the ground as they collapsed backward.

A pillar of white energy shot across the space—it was Zuo Qingzong, unable to catch up, launching a distant strike.

Su Yi, like a startled hare, suddenly dropped toward the ground, narrowly evading Zuo Qingzong’s true energy attack. One Daylight Palace master who tried to leap and block him was struck instead; a bowl-sized hole opened in his chest, and disbelief filled his eyes as he died.

Su Yi darted among several top Daylight Palace masters, engaged in a ferocious struggle. His speed of movement was so swift that even first-class warriors were left dazzled, unable to follow.

He abandoned most defenses, attacking with deadly precision, aiming only for vital points. In the blink of an eye, he suffered a stab, a sword slash, a punch, and a palm strike. Yet he moved as if nothing had happened, snatching away several more lives in an instant.

An innate master whom none could catch, who needed almost no defense, whose movements were so mystically refined that he feared no encirclement—such a man slaughtering a group of second-rate martial artists was nothing short of a one-sided massacre.

Zuo Qingzong was nearly driven mad. This demonic overlord, who had dominated the world for decades, had never tasted such helplessness—powerful yet unable to act. He could only watch as Su Yi slaughtered the Daylight Palace from elders to elite disciples.

With his chest ablaze, Zuo Qingzong’s icy killing intent reached its peak. The bodies of more than a dozen Daylight Palace disciples slid into the water as the ship slowly sank. This terrifying force, enough to command respect from any sect in the world, had now all become souls under the Demon Edge.

Zuo Qingzong’s eyes glittered fiercely. Su Yi sensed an immense spiritual force enveloping him. In that moment, every sound—his own heartbeat, breathing, blood flow, the surge of lake water, the howl of wind, the creak of the wooden hull beneath his feet—became eerily silent.

In the next instant, Zuo Qingzong vanished from his place, transforming into a blazing ball of light, hurtling toward Su Yi at unimaginable speed.

In the spiritual realm, a towering, unstoppable tornado of flame erupted from the radiant sun, crashing toward Su Yi.

Su Yi remained unmoved, feeling the other's gaze pierce his soul. He simply closed his eyes, uniting essence, energy, and spirit. The faint glow of the Demon Edge faded, but in his spiritual world, a solitary ice cliff rose, with the Demon Edge at its core, layered with unmeasurable frozen barriers.

Though the firestorm swept through heaven and earth, burning all things, it struggled to melt the ice’s many layers.

Air currents within ten feet spun rapidly as Su Yi’s feet left the ground, and in an instant, he collided with Zuo Qingzong, who shot forth like an arrow.

Thunderous explosions sounded around them, shaking the eardrums, drowning out the battle cries within a dozen yards.

Zuo Qingzong’s fist was no longer visible, transformed into countless blazing streams of light. Every punch was flawless and full-powered, leaving Su Yi no room to defend.

Su Yi wielded a quadrangular gilded mace in his left hand and the Demon Edge in his right, constantly shifting angles, attacking Zuo Qingzong’s body.

Since he could not completely block the marvels of Zuo Qingzong’s celestial fists, then let them both suffer harm.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The two battled from air to water, then burst from the lake, fighting along the ship’s keel, now submerged two feet below the surface, from bow to stern. Wherever their feet touched, water erupted in columns, flashes of light exploded, and their forms became impossible to discern.

Water curtains rose to the sky. In a sudden moment, a figure soared upward—Su Yi hovered in midair. A cloud slid aside, and the bright moonlight poured down, bathing Su Yi as if a deity had descended to earth.

A trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, he coughed up a mouthful of blood, staining his clothes and splashing onto the lake.

On the chaotic battlefield, those who were clearing out the last enemies while watching the duel felt their hearts sink.

Zuo Qingzong stood with his feet in the lake, true energy steaming so that not a drop wet his wildly dancing hair or robes. His sharp gaze locked onto Su Yi in the sky. After a long while, he looked down at his clenched fists, muttering, “Impossible. How can this be? Impossible…”

He placed his hands behind his back, like an emperor surveying the world, his voice rolling like thunder: “Hahahahaha…”

“In the end, it was all just a dream.”

A blinding light burst from the spot where Zuo Qingzong stood.

The world turned white. When everyone’s vision returned, only rippling lake water remained.

A generation’s demonic overlord had fallen.