Cultivating To Immortality

"Who is that? Get out here."

Zhao Wenjun immediately stood up from the ground, summoned a golden longsword, gripped it in his hand, and vigilantly scanned his surroundings, his face filled with rage.

Seeing that his sneak attack was ineffective, Fang Hong no longer hid. He leaped out from his hiding spot and walked step by step towards Zhao Wenjun, his eyes cold.

"It's actually you."

Zhao Wenjun's face was filled with surprise when he saw Fang Hong's figure.

"Zhao Wenjun, it's time to settle our grievances today." Fang Hong said coldly.

As soon as he finished speaking, he immediately summoned the demon soul banner.

Boom.

The moment the demon soul banner appeared, rolling demonic qi instantly enveloped the surroundings. Demonic light shot out in all directions, carrying an eerie and sinister aura, pressing down on Zhao Wenjun.

"A Soul Banner."

Zhao Wenjun's face immediately turned unsightly under the influence of the demon soul banner.

He felt his soul trembling, and purple electric arcs flickered all over his body.

Zhao Wenjun quickly summoned a string of crystal-clear beads, which floated above his head.

The string of beads emitted bursts of white light, forming an invisible barrier that resisted the erosion of the demonic qi. Only then did Zhao Wenjun feel a little better.

Just then, Fang Hong's figure flickered, and he instantly appeared before Zhao Wenjun, his face ruthless. He swung the soul severing sword in his hand, fiercely slashing at Zhao Wenjun.

Zhao Wenjun's reaction was not slow. He quickly swung the golden longsword in his hand to block the soul severing sword.

Clang.

With a crisp sound, the two swords collided heavily, sending sparks flying.

Zhao Wenjun only felt a huge force coming through, his arm went numb, and he was once again sent flying by Fang Hong, crashing heavily onto the ground.

Fortunately, the longsword in his hand was also a low-grade spiritual treasure, so it wasn't immediately destroyed by Fang Hong's soul severing sword.

Fang Hong's gaze fell on the string of beads above Zhao Wenjun's head, a hint of greed flashing in his eyes.

He immediately summoned the fire cloud gourd, intending to seize that string of beads.

When Zhao Wenjun saw Fang Hong summon the gourd, his face changed drastically. He immediately recalled the intelligence his subordinates had once mentioned.

Fang Hong possessed a strange gourd capable of collecting spiritual artifacts.

Therefore, Zhao Wenjun quickly retracted the beads above his head back into his body.

However, he still underestimated the power of the fire cloud gourd.

The moment the beads were retracted, the golden longsword in his hand suddenly began to tremble violently. An invisible force was pulling at it, trying to break free from his grasp and be sucked away by the fire cloud gourd.

Zhao Wenjun's heart jolted, and he secretly thought, not good. He quickly retracted the longsword in his hand back into his body, fearing that if he was a step too slow, it would be taken by Fang Hong's gourd.

Losing the protection of the beads, Zhao Wenjun immediately felt the influence of the demon soul banner. His magical power was wildly suppressed, and his aura instantly weakened.

A cold glint flashed in Fang Hong's eyes. He clenched his right fist tightly, golden light surging through his entire arm. A phantom Golden Dragon coiled and roared around his fist, clearly intending to use his strongest attack, Dragon Fist, to completely kill Zhao Wenjun with a single punch.

Zhao Wenjun's pupils constricted. He felt a sense of death approaching. In this critical moment, he couldn't care less. He quickly formed hand Seals and roared.

"Demon God Seal."

Before his voice faded, two purple beams of light erupted from his palms, almost instantly crossing the distance between them and striking Fang Hong's body squarely.

This attack was faster than imagined. Fang Hong only had time to see a flash of purple light before the beams had already pierced through his protective shield and landed on his body.

Strangely, however, the intense pain Fang Hong expected did not come. When the purple light beams landed on his body, they only brought a slight tingling sensation and caused no damage.

After the purple light disappeared, the rolling demonic qi that filled the surroundings also vanished. The demon soul banner, soul severing sword, and fire cloud gourd behind Fang Hong all lost their luster and fell heavily to the ground.

Clang. Clang.

The power of the Dragon Fist, which had been building up in his right fist, was receding at a visible rate, and the golden light was dimming little by little.

Fang Hong was startled. He suddenly felt that the magical power within his body was locked by a restriction, and he couldn't even use his Divine Sense, which was why his spiritual treasures had lost their effect.

"Hahahaha. Have you witnessed it? This is the ancient inheritance's Demon God Seal secret technique."

"Within half an hour, you won't be able to mobilize even a single trace of magical power within your body. Now, you probably can't even defeat a Core Formation Stage Cultivator, can you?"

Zhao Wenjun laughed triumphantly. This secret technique was one of his trump cards.

However, although the secret technique was powerful, the price was also huge. Each time the Demon God Seal was used, it would consume a hundred years of Lifespan, a detail he did not mention.

To completely eliminate Fang Hong, this major hidden danger, here, he could only grit his teeth and pay this painful price.

"Demon God Seal? There's actually such a strange secret technique." Fang Hong was secretly alarmed.

Zhao Wenjun's move was truly insidious. He really couldn't use any magical power now, just like a mortal.

"In just a few short decades, you've managed to grow to this extent. If you were given more time, I'm afraid no one in the entire Heavenly Profound Realm would be able to contend against you."

Zhao Wenjun stared at Fang Hong with sinister eyes, as if appraising a rare treasure.

"I want to take a good look and see what extraordinary opportunity is hidden within you that allows you to advance so rapidly."

As soon as he finished speaking, he sneered, drew the golden longsword from his storage bag again, and thrust it straight at Fang Hong's heart with a whooshing sound.

In his opinion, Fang Hong, without magical power, was nothing more than fish on a chopping board, waiting to be cut.

Clink.

Just as the longsword was about to pierce Fang Hong's chest, Fang Hong simply extended two fingers and easily clamped the blade, his movements casual, as if he were merely picking up a fallen leaf.

"Wh-what?"

The malicious grin on Zhao Wenjun's face instantly froze, replaced by an expression of unbelievable horror.

What kind of strength was this Fang Hong's?

He could clearly feel a powerful force coming from Fang Hong's fingertips. His longsword, infused with magical power, was firmly gripped and unable to advance an inch.

"Hmph, what if I don't have magical power? I can still kill you." Fang Hong's lips curved into a cold arc.

Before Zhao Wenjun could react, the fingers gripping the blade suddenly exerted force, and at the same time, his left fist, carrying a whistling gust of wind, smashed heavily onto Zhao Wenjun's head.

Bang.

With a loud crash, Zhao Wenjun screamed and flew backward. If it weren't for his armored helmet, his entire head would have been blown apart.

Zhao Wenjun climbed up from the ground, his face beneath the helmet extremely grim. He had miscalculated this time, not expecting Fang Hong to possess such terrifying physical body strength.

Fang Hong gave Zhao Wenjun no chance to catch his breath. He stomped his foot, instantly appearing before him, and once again unleashed a fierce, heavy punch.