"Ximen Wudi, show us your true face!" Tie Kongshan bellowed. "Or are you, the so-called top master of the underworld, nothing more than a coward hiding in the shadows?"
"Hahahahaha!" Ximen Wudi threw back his head and laughed wildly. His body slowly rose into the air, levitating mid-sky with the power of his internal energy. The harsh, grating laughter—like a hundred boulders grinding against each other—sent out concentric ripples in the air, visible like water waves in a still pond.
Those ripples surged forth like a hurricane, slamming into the platform below. With a thunderous boom, the stage collapsed into a heap of rubble, sending dust and debris flying in every direction.
From below, Third Young Master snapped open his folding fan with a crisp swish, fanning himself lazily. "Hmm... if we captured Ximen Wudi and nailed him to the wall, he might make a decent electric fan. Just imagine the breeze during summer!"
Then, he shook his head. "No good. He only blows wind when he laughs. If we made him laugh all day, the noise would drive everyone mad. And the force of that wind? Probably tear the house down—unless it was made of reinforced concrete. What a waste... what a waste indeed!"
"Dammit, another one who loves to laugh for no reason," muttered Thunder Blade Master, spitting to the side and picking his ear in annoyance.
Finally, Ximen Wudi stopped laughing and floated down until he stood twenty paces from Qin Xiaoyao and Tie Kongshan. He announced loudly, "You want to see my true face? You'll have to earn that right. My mask of inner energy requires a full tenth of my power to maintain. Only when I'm forced to unleash all of my power—twelve out of twelve—will the mask vanish on its own. Only then will you see what lies beneath."
Qin Xiaoyao snorted coldly. "Only eleven parts of your power and you think that's enough to fight me? Don't flatter yourself."
Ximen Wudi smirked. "You misunderstood. Eleven parts... to fight you both. I said: if the two of you join forces, then you'll be worthy of seeing my full strength."
Tie Kongshan laughed in fury. "Arrogant fool! Since we destroyed the Cult of the Moon, Xiaoyao and I haven't had to fight side by side again. There hasn't been a single opponent in the empire worthy of us joining hands!"
"Is that so?" Ximen Wudi smiled faintly. "Frogs in a well. You've no idea how vast the sky truly is. If you're so confident—take a taste of this!"
Without a single visible movement, Ximen Wudi merely lifted his head slightly, as if gazing toward the heavens.
"The Immortal-Slaying Sword!" The cry rang out in unison from Third Young Master and others who had witnessed the technique before. Iron Jian and Iron Xuanxuan turned pale with terror.
The Immortal-Slaying Sword—a formless, silent strike—was said to be powerful enough to slay even heavenly immortals. It left no trace, made no sound, and came from no discernible direction.
But Tie Kongshan had trained in the legendary Iron-Melting Palm. When mastered to its thirty-third and final level, the practitioner's body would become like molten steel—invincible. Weapons striking his skin would melt on contact.
In the instant Ximen Wudi lifted his head, Tie Kongshan heard the warning and understood. He made no effort to dodge or defend. Instead, he roared like a tiger, unleashing the full power of his Iron-Melting Palm.
An intense red glow surged from his body, quickly turning to blinding white. The heat was so intense that the ground beneath him cracked and smoked. In the next instant, the white light faded—replaced by an almost invisible glow.
This near-invisible aura was the most terrifying form of heat—so intense it warped the air around him. Even masters like Qiao Wei and Uncle Li had to shield their eyes with internal energy to resist its brilliance.
The earth beneath his feet had already begun to melt into glass-like liquid.
Then—a soft, eerie whine, like a flute in the wind—echoed over his temple. A small dimple appeared on his left temple, expanding slowly, as though pierced by an invisible needle.
Sweat poured from Tie Kongshan's brow. A tiny bead of blood formed at the dimple and evaporated instantly from the heat.
Roaring again, he struck toward his own temple—not at his head, but at the air beside it. A sharp clang rang out, like metal against metal. The dimple vanished.
He staggered slightly, then grunted as blood trickled from his mouth and nostrils.
"Father!" cried Iron Jian and Iron Xuanxuan.
"Uncle!" shouted Third Young Master, his voice filled with worry.
None of them dared approach, for the heat radiating from him was too intense.
"I'm fine," Tie Kongshan said hoarsely, wiping away the blood. His voice remained deep, but lacked its usual strength.
Ximen Wudi's eyes widened in admiration. "Impressive… truly impressive. To endure my Immortal-Slaying Sword head-on, and sever the spiritual connection between myself and the sword—thus rendering it void? No one has ever done that before. You, Tie Kongshan, are the first!"
Tie Kongshan chuckled weakly. "You're too kind. I'm still no match for you… I was blind to the sky beyond my well."
But Ximen Wudi shook his head. "You're wrong. The Immortal-Slaying Sword is said to slay even divine beings. No one has ever survived it—yet you did. I can only unleash that technique four times in five days. Judging by your resilience, you could withstand it three more times. If I used all my Immortal-Slaying energy on you, I'd be too drained to face Qin Xiaoyao after."
Qin Xiaoyao turned to Tie Kongshan. "Brother-in-law, he's right. He may be stronger, but that's no reason to despair. How many like him even exist in the world? If there's anyone alive who could defeat us both... it's only this one man."
Tie Kongshan nodded slowly. "Seems we truly must join forces today..."
Qin Xiaoyao smiled. "So be it. Are we really too proud to fight side by side? Weren't we always doing that as young men?"
Tie Kongshan stared at him in shock. "You… you were always the proud one back then!"
Qin Xiaoyao chuckled. "Sure, I was. I wanted to look cool for the girls. But now?"
He glanced back at Third Young Master and the others. "Now I'm just a husband with a good wife and a father with three good sons. I don't care what others think—only that my wife and kids see me as a man they can rely on. If we lose today, do you think Ximen Wudi will spare them? Could they fight him?"
Tie Kongshan burst out laughing, turning to glance at his son and daughter. "You're right. We're no longer boys. Pride doesn't mean a damn thing."
The two men laughed and began to walk toward Ximen Wudi, step by step, their combined aura rising with each pace.
Though Tie Kongshan's internal energy had already peaked, aura—or battle momentum—was something else entirely. It was the spirit of the fight. Like morale in war, it could tip the scales regardless of numbers or strength.
In martial duels, the stronger aura could break the enemy's will before a blow was even struck.