Urban Divine Doctor Descends the Mountain Chapter 2712 - 2711: Pravina’s Oath

Thor's heart clenched abruptly, as though seized by an unseen colossal fist, rendering his breaths labored and painful.

His eyes bulged wide, fixed on Lin Dong in utter disbelief, the gaze once crackling with thunderous assurance now brimming with astonishment and denial.

The Thunder Clan, a mighty and famed lineage in the Martial Arts World, whose very name could cow numerous factions, and he, a prime talent among the younger members of this clan, had never imagined anyone would so casually shrug off the Thunder Clan's might.

Yet, even the Thunder Clan bowed low before the Dark Family, among the west's ruling houses, not daring to raise their heads in humility.

And this foe dismissed even the Dark Family without a care!?

"You... did you truly slay Little Monarch Red Dragon right in front of the Shadow Sovereign?" Thor's voice quivered faintly, each syllable forced through clenched jaws.

He sought any hint of deceit in Lin Dong’s features, but Lin Dong’s expression remained serene like still water, devoid of disturbance, that detachment only fueling Thor’s suspicions more.

A faint smile curved Lin Dong's lips, one that derided Thor’s naivety while radiating assurance in his own prowess.

"Whether you accept it or not, it changes nothing for me. Soon enough, you'll be a corpse anyway!"

"Come on, face your end!"

As those words landed, Lin Dong’s aura shifted dramatically, a vast spiritual force erupted like a tempest, squeezing the air around them into a piercing howl.

Thor sensed an overwhelming force crashing down from above, pinning him immobile, as if this might would swallow him whole in an instant.

"No! Impossible! I, Thor, refuse to submit this way!" Thor bellowed, his inner thunder essence boiling wildly to counter Lin Dong’s crushing dominance.

His hands swiftly wove seals, the heavens darkened with storm clouds, thunder boomed, and massive bolts ripped across the sky, aiming straight for Lin Dong—this was the Thunder Clan’s exclusive technique, Thunderstorm Punishment.

Yet, against this terrifying assault, Lin Dong simply lifted his hand casually, a gentle glow gathered at his fingertips, mild and soothing, but harboring the might to shatter realms.

With a quick snap, that glow morphed into a radiant beam, slicing through the web of lightning and slamming into Thor’s core meridians.

"Bang!" A thunderous blast echoed, hurling Thor’s form back like a severed puppet, crashing hard onto the earth amid swirling dirt, the electric glow fading, leaving a charred crater with Thor sprawled inside, devoid of breath.

Lin Dong advanced unhurriedly, his stare icy, "Bear in mind, no matter your origins, only power dictates who lives or dies."

Struggling to lift his head, Thor’s gaze held both resentment and resignation; he grasped at last that this man exceeded all his comprehension, the Thunder Clan’s prestige mere farce against Lin Dong.

"Is this my end? I can't accept it... reaching Heavenly Realm Martial Artist took so much effort." Thor’s tone was feeble, but strikingly distinct, as he shut his eyes, bracing for the inevitable.

Lin Dong merely shook his head, offering no compassion.

Achieving Heavenly Realm Martial Artist status was no small feat, true. But for seeking Lin Dong’s life, Thor had invited his own doom.

In those resolute, frosty eyes, Lin Dong gradually lifted his palm, an intangible blade materializing within.

It was the Sword of Wuji, an ultimate artifact that could cleave through all existence, souls included.

"Sword of Wuji, strike!" Lin Dong whispered, swinging the unseen blade with force, a dazzling saber gleam rent the firmament, akin to a comet blazing through darkness, laden with icy resolve, hurtling toward Thor’s skull.

Witnessing this, despair and defiance flickered in Thor’s eyes; he knew reversal was beyond him, yet Thunder Clan honor forbade simple surrender.

Summoning his final reserves, he rallied the lingering thunder essence, striving to trigger the clan’s ultimate taboo—self-explosion—to drag Lin Dong down with him.

But Lin Dong moved swifter; the Sword of Wuji’s edge pierced his torso just as the notion formed, bisecting his massive frame.

Crimson gore mingled with electric flashes, painting a tragic tableau, Thor’s vision dimmed, his vital flame snuffed out, his form slumped lifelessly, thunder essence dispersed, vitality utterly gone.

Lin Dong pressed on, gesturing lightly, an unseen energy delicately drew forth Thor’s spirit and essence—a dim, wavering spark, the remnants of his awareness.

A subtle grin touched Lin Dong’s face, his fingers twitched faintly, then he sealed this spark away in the Drought-Maiden Horn.

Thor’s demise was pitiful, his remains halved by the Sword of Wuji, blood soaking the soil, thunder essence evaporating into nothingness, his stare locked in regret and hopelessness, yet all was beyond mending.

Surveying the sight, Lin Dong’s resolve held firm; he knew well, in this realm of might-makes-right, weakness invited oblivion, and Thor served as yet another cautionary tale.

With Thor handled, Lin Dong didn’t dawdle, pivoting to peer afar, toward where Pravina pursued Alya.

"I’m curious if Pravina has finished off Alya. Pravina’s at Third Heaven, Alya merely Second Heaven. If she can’t manage Alya, there’s no point in retaining Pravina as my servant. I tolerate no incompetence."

Lin Dong muttered, invoking the Earth Dragon Treasure Technique, and dove beneath the surface, vanishing from view.

Precisely as Lin Dong burrowed away, distant on another front, a clash of survival, betrayal, and allegiance raged intensely.

Some fifteen hundred kilometers off, the duel between Pravina and Alya climaxed, the atmosphere heavy with blood’s reek and bitter defiance.

Alya, the Thunder Clan’s prodigy, now drained, her Second Heaven might seeming frail against Pravina’s Third Heaven dominance.

Sweat-soaked garments clung to her, locks in wild disarray, eyes ablaze with defiant rage and loathing for the turncoat.

"Pravina, you traitor!" Alya’s cry rasped from fury, as if venting every grudge within, "For your life, you stooped to serve Lin Dong as his servant. And now you’ll end me—aren’t you scared of your family disowning you? Of the Charm Clan hunting you down?"

Pravina, clad in opulent garb, expression severe, lips arched in a subtle smirk of assured triumph.

"You’ve got it wrong, Alya." Her words came gently, laced with profound reverence for Lin Dong, "My master won’t fall. He’s destined to stand as the pinnacle of Martial Arts annals, and as his devotee, I’ll etch my legacy into those storied pages—Pravina."

"While you’ll fade into history’s forgotten sands."

At this, Alya’s features twisted in scornful mockery: "Keep dreaming? Even should Lin Dong possess such gifts, he’ll never realize them. Doom awaits him, just like so many prodigies who blazed briefly before vanishing."

These words stoked Pravina’s fury. Her countenance darkened sharply, eyes flashing with ferocity: "Insolent wretch, how dare you besmirch the master! Alya, perish!"