"Impressive… If Meng Shaobai hadn't diverted most of his Kunpeng essence just now, even if my punch landed, he would've swallowed it whole. Useless. Ever since he used the Demonic Embryo Parasitic Art to inhabit the Kunpeng egg, he's basically become a bottomless pit—capable of absorbing an infinite amount of force. Any qi, any treasure—you beat him, he eats it, digests it, and turns it into strength."
Fang Han had hit Meng Shaobai's lower abdomen with the sudden fiftieth punch, forcing him into a world of excruciating pain, curling his body like a broken prawn.
Yet even as the blow connected, Fang Han sensed something chilling—most of his divine energy simply vanished the moment it entered Meng Shaobai's body, devoured without a ripple.
Only now did he fully grasp how terrifying the Kunpeng Primordial Spirit truly was.
It could absorb any attack.
Even a flying sword thrust straight into Meng Shaobai's flesh would simply sink in and be swallowed whole by the Kunpeng soul.
Of course, if the attack exceeded the Kunpeng soul's tolerance, he'd explode.
But everyone knew how monstrous the Kunpeng's swallowing capacity was. Back when Meng Shaobai first formed his divine abilities, only a Longevity-realm powerhouse could overload him. And as he grew stronger, even that limit would grow. Once he stepped into Longevity, he might become untouchable—no attack able to break him.
But that was far in the future.
Right now, momentum had swung completely to Fang Han.
No—more than momentum.
Fang Han had won.
But he didn't relax for even a heartbeat.
He was going to crush Meng Shaobai completely—beat him into the ground like a mangy dog, shatter his "invincible genius" mentality, and leave him too traumatized to ever challenge him again.
Same sect or not, this feud hadn't been Fang Han's doing.
Meng Shaobai had been the one who couldn't tolerate a genius surpassing him—provoking Fang Han mercilessly back in the Great Xuan Empire.
Anyone who picked a fight with Fang Han never got mercy.
He'd make sure they feared him forever.
BANG! BANG BANG BANG BANG—!
The moment his fist connected, Fang Han didn't stop—he unleashed Golden Emperor Slash, turning his body into a golden streak of wind that blitzed around Meng Shaobai, striking from every angle.
A heavy punch smashed into Meng Shaobai's chest, sending him flying flat on his back, blood spraying from his mouth. His Kunpeng Primordial Spirit rushed back into his body, desperately absorbing the terrifying force of Fang Han's attacks.
"You think you can swallow my treasures?" Fang Han growled. "Do I look like your errand boy delivering gifts?"
He dropped from the air with a vicious kick, slamming his heel into Meng Shaobai's face. The blow made his face swell grotesquely, blood splattering. Meng Shaobai's flesh was incredibly tough—an ordinary flying sword couldn't pierce him—but Fang Han's punches weren't ordinary. Even if the Kunpeng absorbed most of the energy, the remaining destructive force was still brutal.
"Fang Han! I'll never forgive you!" Meng Shaobai roared.
He had never suffered humiliation like this. Since birth he'd been heaven's chosen—quick-witted, blessed with immense talent and endless opportunities, always turning danger into fortune. He had never lost.
But today—he was being beaten like a dog.
Fury exploded through him as circles of qi burst from his body, trying to purge Fang Han's invading energy.
"Die!"
Fang Han showed no mercy. His palms struck out, each blow landing precisely on Meng Shaobai's major acupoints, injecting destructive divine power to cripple every ounce of his vitality. At the same time, his left hand snapped outward—summoning the Heaven-Shrouding Demon Hand—and grabbed straight for Meng Shaobai's Heavenly Gate.
Even the greatest cultivator would be finished if their Heavenly Gate was shattered. Their divine abilities would collapse, mana spilling out, their cultivation ruined.
At the same moment, Ghost Serpent Sword, Blood Night King, Spirit Sword—all slashed downward mercilessly.
"You want to break my body? Impossible! Kunpeng soul—absorb! Swallow!"
Ripples like water shimmered over Meng Shaobai's skin. As the demonic blade and swords struck the ripples, they sank into his flesh and were gulped down by the Kunpeng soul.
"Oh, you want to eat them? Be my guest." Fang Han laughed coldly. "Let's see how much you can chew!"
With a sweeping gesture, he summoned the Six-Eyed Divine-Sealing Monoliths and the Yellow Springs Diagram.
Both treasures crashed into Meng Shaobai's body—forcefully fed into the Kunpeng soul.
Meng Shaobai's eyes twisted with venom.
His body shot upward wildly—trying to escape.
Inside him, the Kunpeng soul was struggling. It had swallowed too many foreign divine powers, too many treasures: the demon hand, the blood blade, the ghost sword, the spirit sword, the divine-sealing monoliths, Yellow Springs Diagram, even the Star-Piercing Arrow—all thrashing in its stomach. He tried to suppress them, but he couldn't; he couldn't even swing a sword now.
"Running already?" Fang Han sneered. "You haven't eaten enough. Since the Purple Thunder Seeds didn't hit you earlier—why not swallow them too?"
In an instant, he teleported forward and fired a cluster of glowing purple seeds—like a string of grapes—straight into Meng Shaobai's body.
Meng Shaobai couldn't dodge. The Purple Thunder Seeds struck him and were swallowed instantly by the Kunpeng soul—he had no choice. If he didn't swallow them, they'd explode on the surface of his body, shredding him to pieces. If his physical body died, his cultivation would collapse—and even if he managed to seize another body, it would never perfectly match his soul. His progress would be crippled forever.
"Explode! Explode! Explode!"
Fang Han roared the command.
A cruel grin stretched across his face.
The Purple Thunder Seeds detonated inside Meng Shaobai's Kunpeng soul.
BOOOOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM!
Meng Shaobai convulsed violently, his body on the verge of disintegration. But his Primordial Spirit desperately held his flesh together, preventing him from exploding. Even so, blood sprayed from all seven orifices, mixed with wisps of purple smoke—the remnants of the Purple Thunder's blast.
This strike devastated him.
Even the Kunpeng soul nearly dispersed.
Any other heavenly dharma manifestation—even Hua Tiandu's Panwu Primordial Spirit—would've been torn apart instantly.
But the Kunpeng was different.
That was the only reason Meng Shaobai survived.
Even so, his Kunpeng soul was catastrophically damaged—its inner divine powers thrown into chaos.
PUFF!
Meng Shaobai finally spat another mouthful of blood—this one containing a massive surge of qi.
All the treasures he had swallowed—Blood Night King, Heaven-Shrouding Demon Hand, Ghost Serpent Sword, Spirit Sword, Yellow Springs Diagram, Divine-Sealing Monoliths, even the Star-Piercing Arrow—were all vomited out violently.
His body lost control—his flight collapsed entirely.
He plummeted straight onto the Heavenly Execution Platform, smashing into the stone. His sword—his lifelong companion—clattered away across the ground.
"Hahahaha!"
Blood Night King shot into the air, sucking in Meng Shaobai's spilled blood greedily. "Delicious! Kunpeng blood! Let me drink more—just a little more and I'll become a mid-grade Dao artifact!"
Even a drop of Kunpeng blood carried terrifying spatial power.
Fang Han felt some splatter across his skin.
A faint ripple of spatial energy seeped into him, strengthening his Great Cutting Technique.
"Of course… The Kunpeng devours stars. It naturally holds the power of space."
Fang Han gathered his treasures and descended calmly onto the execution platform.
"My treasures aren't snacks for you," he said coldly. "If you ate them—spit them back out."
Meng Shaobai lay there, powerless, defeated.
There was no longer any question who the victor was.
"He lost… Meng Shaobai actually lost. Fang Han's strength is unbelievable. To defeat someone three realms above him—someone in the ninth layer of Divine Abilities—this is the stuff of legends!"
"Exactly! Three entire realms lower, and he still crushed Meng Shaobai! If Fang Han forms his Golden Core, how terrifying will he become? I'd bet even Hua Tiandu wouldn't dare fight him now!"
"What a monster. Our sect has truly given birth to a once-in-ten-thousand-years prodigy."
"From today onward, no one can question Fang Han. Once the Sect Master retires, the position is between him and Hua Tiandu. After this, Meng Shaobai is out of the running."
"A future sect master… standing right before us."
"In All Worlds, countless geniuses are recorded, but none like this. A Divine Ability sixth-layer cultivator defeating a ninth-layer Heaven-and-Earth Manifestation expert—and even killing tenth-layer powerhouses? We must curry favor with him now."
"Agreed. After today, no one will hesitate. If Fang Han wins against Hua Tiandu in the future, we don't want to be on the wrong side."
All around the Heavenly Execution Platform, true disciples and even several elders erupted into heated discussion. Fang Han had not only defeated Meng Shaobai—he had altered the entire balance of power in the sect. To them, he now stood as the one man capable of rivaling Hua Tiandu.
"Damn it! Damn it all…"
Wan Luo—face twisted— trembled with suppressed fear.
"Am I still worthy to be his opponent? No… I must warn Senior Brother Hua Tiandu. If Fang Han continues to grow, it will be catastrophic. He must be eliminated before he forms his Golden Core!"