SSS rank Mother-In-Law to an Invincible Family - Chapter 474

Chapter 474: A Battle Between The Two Voidbreak Realm Cultivators 2
The clash picked up again with no warning.

The first cultivator raised both arms and rushed in with a burst of speed, leaving behind a streak of white light.

His opponent braced just in time, pulling up a barrier of swirling air and reinforcing it with qi lines from his shoulders to his fists.

They met.

Fist to shield.

The air cracked like a lightning bolt.

Then came the follow-up.

The attacker didn’t pause—his right leg whipped around in a roundhouse kick aimed for the ribs. The defender caught it with one arm, but the force still shoved him backward.

Dust lifted from the ground like a wall.

The first cultivator charged again, sliding under a blast of fire and slamming his shoulder into his opponent’s chest. They both tumbled, landing in a rough roll before separating again.

A sharp inhale.

A leap.

The second cultivator summoned six swords made of solid light and sent them forward in a spiral pattern.

They spun fast, whistling through the air, each humming with dense Voidbreak-level qi.

The other cultivator extended one hand, forming a wide dome of water that wrapped around him.

The blades hit.

Splash.

Crack.

Bang.

Two pierced through, grazing his shoulder and thigh. The others melted on contact, creating blasts of steam.

He gritted his teeth and dashed forward, ignoring the wounds.

But it was not because he wasn’t afraid of it affecting the duel. It was because the wounds healed at an incredible rate.

Meanwhile, he used his hands to deliver a palm strike to the chest.

The second fighter raised a hand just in time to block, but a second palm came low, striking the ribs.

A third went for the throat.

Blocked again.

The air between them shimmered with the force of each strike.

Neither one backed down.

They were past testing.

This was real now.

Their feet moved across broken terrain, torn grass, and cracked soil shifting beneath each blow.

The second cultivator flipped backward, launching himself into the air. Mid-flight, he spun and sent a barrage of glowing talismans in all directions. The paper flared with silver flame.

The first cultivator slapped his palms together and sent out a shockwave. The talismans exploded mid-air, scattering flames across the ground.

But he was already moving again.

Straight up.

His body blurred, appearing directly above his opponent.

A kick slammed downward.

Blocked.

He followed up with a spin, landing behind and throwing a punch toward the spine.

It hit.

The second man stumbled forward, caught himself, then rolled sideways and returned with a swipe of spatial energy, like a blade slicing through thin air.

The attack hit the ground beside his opponent, cutting a clean, deep trench in the dirt.

Close.

But not enough.

Again, the first man pressed forward.

This time, he formed three long chains of spiritual energy, wrapping them around his arms.

He threw them.

One hit the ground beside his opponent.

The second snapped across his chest, pulling him off balance.

The third tightened around the ankle.

The first cultivator yanked hard, spinning him mid-air, then launched him into a nearby rock formation.

Crash.

The boulder cracked and split.

The second man pushed himself up, coughed once, and vanished.

A second later, he reappeared behind his opponent, already mid-strike.

Boom.

The punch connected.

The first cultivator staggered forward, catching himself on one knee.

He stood again, wiping blood from his mouth.

His opponent didn’t wait.

He threw a spear of wind.

It zipped forward—clean, sharp, fast.

The first man raised both hands, catching it—but the force sent him sliding back across the field.

They paused.

Both are breathing hard now.

Clothes torn.

Qi swirling around them, hot and dense.

Then—without a word—they moved again.

This time, they clashed in a storm of fists and legs.

Punch. Kick. Elbow. Shoulder.

Qi burst with every hit.

Lightning flashed across the sky, pulled down by their spiritual pressure.

The ground broke beneath their feet.

A small crater formed where their feet landed next.

The second cultivator formed a cube of energy, then spun and slammed it down. The cube exploded into a spiral of force, throwing dust and rock in every direction.

The first cultivator leapt through the wave, breaking it with his bare fist, then followed up with a rising knee.

It hit the chin.

The second man fell back—but caught himself midair and spun, throwing three quick bursts of compressed air.

All of them hit.

The first staggered.

Then roared—and pushed through.

He tackled his opponent, lifting him from the ground and slamming him into a hill.

Boom.

The side of the hill cracked, and the two fighters tumbled down.

They rolled, flipped, then stood up again, their bodies bruised, but not beaten.

And then they smiled.

There were no words.

No explanations.

Just fighting.

They dashed forward again, feet light, fists ready, and clashed once more under the bright midday sun.

And in that silent place, where no one could see or interrupt, their battle continued.

Because for them, this wasn’t about pride.

It wasn’t about winning.

It was about proving one thing:

That they were no longer ordinary cultivators.

They were Voidbreak.

And the world would have to catch up.

But the air still crackled.

The second cultivator rolled his shoulder and exhaled slowly. “You holding back?”

The first wiped blood from his mouth. “Maybe.”

A grin. “Good. So was I.”

Then they both moved at the same time.

Their fists met again, not with anger, but with intent. Solid, heavy, practiced intent. They were no longer testing each other—they were sharpening each other.

Strike.

Counter.

Dodge.

Grab.

Knee to the stomach, elbow to the jaw, a backstep to reset. They hit the ground, rolled, and rebounded without pause.

The dirt beneath their feet had stopped being dirt. It was dust now. Soft, broken, scorched.

The first cultivator created a long whip of spiritual water, snapping it with such force that the air screamed.

The second caught it with both hands, let himself be pulled forward, and used the momentum to drive a kick into the first’s ribs.