Immortality begin with Alchemy Grandmaster Chapter 2660 - 981: Neck to Neck, Time for Heart-to-Heart Talk (Part 2)

"Explode for me!"

The shout resonated like the cry of a beast wounded in battle, echoing through the air in a heartbeat.

Luo Chen’s sword fingers pivoted, and his stance transformed.

He triggered the immediate detonation of the move's secondary effects, channeling the qi-blood and divine soul of a hundred thousand demon beasts to crash against the Subspace Slash.

The impasse shattered, and the clash ignited with sudden violence.

Boom!

The black, hundred-zhang fissure evaporated into nothingness.

A devastating shockwave rippled out from the center where Luo Chen and Qing Shuang stood, sweeping across the landscape.

White clouds disintegrated, and the ground collapsed beneath the sheer force.

Luo Chen vanished, swallowed by the rising silts of Sand Trap Valley.

A figure stumbled forward, her frame covered in lacerations from head to toe.

Suddenly, a flash of red light tore through the atmosphere, driving straight toward her abdomen.

It was a strike born of pure cunning.

The woman leaped, dodging the kill.

Puff!

The tip of the blade severed her right foot entirely.

"Hmph..."

She groaned, twisting to snatch the sword from the air.

Ignoring the blood gushing from her mangled grip, her entire being shuddered.

Having exhausted their ultimate techniques, both she and Luo Chen were teetering on the brink of collapse.

She had never imagined that the sword possessed a spirit of its own, capable of launching such an ambush.

"Your master is not dead yet!"

With a flick of her finger, she suppressed the blood sword, which was faltering in its own exhaustion. Qing Shuang, indifferent to her surroundings, plunged into the rolling sands of the deep canyon.

...

A thousand miles distant.

The Silver Refining Roc glanced back, his face drained of color.

"Such overwhelming might!"

He muttered under his breath, his pale features shifting into a mask of hesitation.

"Was he perhaps not a master of the Divine Transformation level?"

He recalled the brief encounter with that mysterious cultivator's divine consciousness.

"It lacked the pure dominance of my eldest brother and the fluid volatility of the Red Sand Ancient Scorpion’s spirit. It resembled the essence of a typical Nascent Soul True Master, only significantly more imposing."

Fueled by this realization, his doubt escalated.

Abandoning the battle and leaving ten thousand siblings behind would surely invite terror from his eldest brother upon his return.

Furthermore, it was obvious the individual had appeared suddenly, as if displaced during a struggle rather than arriving by design.

"It must be a life-or-death duel between two late-stage Nascent Soul Cultivators!"

"Locked in such extreme combat, both must be heavily impaired. If I can seize this opportunity..."

The Silver Refining Roc licked his cracked lips, his hesitation dissolving into unbridled greed. The legacy of two severely wounded masters would be priceless, and their Nascent Souls alone would be a feast beyond his wildest dreams!

If he managed to secure them...

He took a deep breath, performed a series of grounding rituals, and slipped silently toward Sand Trap Valley.

...

Sand Trap Valley disintegrated, a tidal wave of quicksand reclaiming the entire basin.

Two figures remained locked in a desperate struggle, refusing to retreat!

Guided by their mutual resonance of qi, Qing Shuang surged ahead.

Suddenly!

A fist erupted from the shifting sands.

Caught off guard, the blow struck her body—a form as resilient as a True Device—and left a deep impression.

Wincing in agony, she lashed out with a blind strike.

The hand attempting to withdraw was caught in her fierce hold and refused to release.

"Found you!"

Her other hand struck out like a serpent.

Bang!

A kick launched from below collided violently with her left arm.

As they recoiled, that leg erupted in a spray of blood while Qing Shuang’s left arm went limp.

The quicksand filled every void, but it could not mask the figures locked in a glare of absolute murderous intent.

"Die!"

"Die!"

Bam! Bang! Boom!

The two plummeted deeper, ignoring the suffocating silt and their own mangled bodies. Even with only one limb remaining, each directed their full malice at the other’s vitals.

Once the pinnacle of the Divine Transformation and a legendary figure of the Eastern Wasteland’s Alchemy Sect, both had abandoned all pretense of elegance.

Their combat focused no longer on grand divine abilities or lethal artifacts, but descended into primitive savagery. They pummeled, kicked, butted, and crushed.

In a moment of pure desperation, Qing Shuang even tore a slab of flesh from Luo Chen’s shoulder with her teeth.

Naturally, given the durability of Luo Chen’s physical form, the effort cost Qing Shuang one of her own teeth.

Time lost its meaning.

The descent of the quicksand began to slow.

In the depths of the earth, a massive cavern had filled with coarse, soft sand, creating a vast dune.

Suddenly!

Bam!

The pair burst from the earth, immediately grappling once more.

Both landed a heavy palms before rolling backward, only to rebound off the cavern walls and clash again.

In the cramped space above the sand tomb, their movements were a rhythmic, brutal tangle of limbs.

Just as they threatened to break apart, Qing Shuang’s leg whipped around, locking onto Luo Chen’s thigh. Before he could react, she bit deep into his throat.

"You madwoman!"

Luo Chen struggled fruitlessly, driving his palm through her defenses to strike at her heart.

Yet, he did not finish the blow!

Because his own windpipe was clamped within her jaws.

"Bite all you like, but even if you snap my neck, I will crush your heart before I fall!"

Their legs remained entwined; one choked the other while a palm rested heavy upon a chest.

From a distance, it appeared as if they were locked in an intimate embrace.

But the lethality between them was absolute. Without the support of Origin Force, a shattered throat would not regenerate, turning a grave injury into a fatal one. The same held true for the heart; even with the resilience of a Great Cultivator, that singular blow would be the end.