Chapter 1316: Pure Power

Qinglong lay on the ground, his eyes open as he calmly gazed at the ceiling where the dark clouds were gradually dispersing.

What kind of feeling was this…?

His cheeks burned with unbearable pain—there was no visible injury, so why did it hurt so much?

His body ached, his heart ached, even his soul ached.

Even “Tian Xing Jian” didn’t know which part to restore to make him feel better.

That punch seemed to have shattered a piece of his soul. For a moment, he lay there in a daze, forgetting what he was even doing.

Both of them wielded “Tian Xing Jian”… What kind of fist was this?

Was it skill… or some kind of eerie power…?

“No…” Qinglong muttered. “That punch was infused with ‘conviction’…”

His flesh moved unnaturally, slowly filling in the damaged areas.

If his opponent was throwing punches like that, he absolutely couldn’t afford to get hit again—even if he didn’t die, he’d surely lose consciousness.

Qiao Jiajin staggered forward, intending to land a few more blows, when he suddenly felt a numbing sensation in his hands.

Looking down, he saw his fists—bone exposed, the flesh torn away, scattered gods knew where.

Seems like Zhang Shan, who had been using “Tian Xing Jian” to regenerate, was nearing his limit too.

“Tattoo kid…” Zhang Shan rose from the ground, dusting himself off. “Do you even care about your hands anymore?”

“Just a pair of hands…” Qiao Jiajin gritted his teeth. “Flesh wounds can heal. Even if you can’t restore them for me, I can recover slowly after this fight.”

With that, he stepped toward Qinglong, still sprawled on the ground. Surely, not even Qinglong could take too many of these punches?

“A ‘god’ who can get knocked flying…” Qiao Jiajin smirked. “Why’s your face covered in blood? Need me to call an ambulance?”

Qinglong blinked, but his body refused to obey—he couldn’t get up.

“Don’t feel bad, little green guy,” Qiao Jiajin said as he approached. “Plenty of people have been sent flying by me. Ordinary thugs, ‘Double Red Poles,’ ‘Participants,’ ‘Paradise Port,’ ‘Cats,’ ‘Extremists,’ ‘Mind Readers,’ even ‘Tian Xing Jian’ users…”

He glanced at Zhang Shan. “No offense, big guy.”

“None taken,” Zhang Shan nodded.

“And now, even a ‘god’ has been sent flying…” Qiao Jiajin raised his right fist. “Little green guy, you’ve got no honor. Go explain yourself to Guan Yu.”

Qinglong’s eyes widened as countless thoughts flashed through his mind—he had to act now.

He couldn’t afford to take another punch that combined skill, power, “Tian Xing Jian,” and “conviction.”

Qiao Jiajin gave him no time to react. His fist descended like lightning.

**BOOM!**

A sound like a meteor impact erupted, dust and debris flying as the room trembled.

Frowning, Qiao Jiajin realized Qinglong had vanished—his fist had only left a massive crater in the ground.

Turning, he saw Qinglong lying far away. Must’ve activated “Leap” at the last second.

Gritting his teeth, Qinglong swayed as he stood, his flesh fully restored, though some wounds remained. His condition was stabilizing.

His eyes burned red, his expression bordering on madness.

In just one day, he’d fought multiple battles—none of them easy. His conviction was wavering, his thoughts growing chaotic.

But he still had “Immortal Arts.” As long as he wielded them, ordinary combat couldn’t defeat him.

Swaying slightly, he glared at Qiao Jiajin in the distance, bracing for another attack. Yet, to his surprise, Qiao Jiajin didn’t charge—he just stood there, watching.

“Hey, little green guy,” Qiao Jiajin chuckled. “The road’s wide open—watch out for cars.”

“Cars…?”

Before he could react, a powerful hand clamped onto his shoulder, fingers digging in like a vice.

Qinglong’s instincts screamed—his condition was truly off. “Leap” had brought him right in front of another enemy.

He instinctively wanted to use “Soul Snatch” to immobilize his foe, but the memory of that chilling voice made him hesitate. He endured the pain and triggered “Leap” again.

But Zhang Shan, having fought alongside Jin Yuanxun for so long, knew how “Leap” worked. He held on tight, vanishing with Qinglong.

As they reappeared, Qinglong spun around, furious, just in time to see Zhang Shan’s fist rearing back.

Qinglong frantically activated “Leap” midair, trying to shake Zhang Shan off with sheer speed.

But Zhang Shan clung like iron, their figures flickering across the room like stop-motion. Each reappearance brought his fist closer to Qinglong’s face.

After several high-speed leaps, a deafening impact echoed from all directions.

Zhang Shan’s fist connected squarely with Qinglong’s face, sending him rocketing backward like a missile.

This time, he didn’t spin—he shot straight into a wall, cracking it deeply.

Truly, he’d been hit by a car.

A fully loaded semi-truck going a hundred miles an hour.

If Qiao Jiajin’s punch was a mix of power, skill, “Tian Xing Jian,” and “conviction”… then what was this?

Pure, earth-shattering force.

This time, it wasn’t his soul that was wounded—it was his very life force.

The moment that fist landed, Qinglong felt it—the stench of death.

Seventy years in “Taoyuan,” and he’d never sensed anything like it.

If he didn’t pull himself together, these two would beat him to death today. Their damage outpaced even “Tian Xing Jian’s” restoration.

“Damn…” Zhang Shan shook his nearly fleshless hand. “You were right, tattoo kid. No point worrying about injuries—they’ll heal. If ‘Tian Xing Jian’ can’t fix it, time will.”

“Nice punch, big guy,” Qiao Jiajin said, walking over. “That would’ve killed even me.”

Embedded in the wall, Qinglong’s mind was chaos. His proudest killing technique, “Soul Snatch,” had been countered… What kind of mastermind could pull that off?

But he’d never even met Qi Xia, nor had he encountered anyone suspicious…

Wait.

Hadn’t he?

“I remember whose voice that was…” Qinglong’s eyes turned ice-cold.