SSS rank Mother-In-Law to an Invincible Family - Chapter 475

Capítulo 475: A Battle Between The Two Voidbreak Realm Cultivators 3

The sound was dull. Wet.

The first man didn’t even grunt. He caught the leg and twisted.

They both crashed into the ground again, this time slamming hard enough to send pebbles flying in all directions.

The second cultivator laughed while pinned. “You’re still slower than me.”

The first smiled as he tightened his grip. “But I’m heavier.”

They rolled apart again, panting, their energy flickering like fire on the edge of exhaustion.

But they didn’t stop.

Not even as blood dripped from split lips and torn sleeves.

Not even as their muscles trembled.

This fight had stopped being a contest long ago.

Now it was a lesson.

And both of them were learning fast.

The first cultivator took one final breath, centered his stance, and waited.

The second mirrored him.

One last clash.

They sprinted forward one more time—blurs across a shattered field.

And when their fists met—

The Earth split.

The sky echoed.

And time seemed to hold its breath.

Because in that one instant, two warriors stood tall not as rivals, not as enemies, but as proof—

That Voidbreak was no longer a realm to reach.

It was a realm to master.

And this?

This was just the beginning.

The impact from their last strike threw both of them backward.

Neither of them landed on their feet.

They hit the dirt hard, skidding across the cracked earth like stones skipping across a dry lakebed.

Dust rose in heavy clouds.

For a while, there was only silence.

Then a cough.

Another.

Slowly, the second cultivator sat up and rubbed the side of his face. A bruise had already started to bloom along his jaw.

He winced. “Okay… that one hurt.”

The first cultivator groaned, still lying on his back. “I told you I was heavier.”

“Remind me not to spar with you after lunch next time.”

They stayed down for a while, breathing, staring at the sky. The clouds were beginning to clear.

The sun was still overhead, but lower now. Time had passed. Maybe hours. Maybe more. It didn’t matter.

Their limbs ached. Their lungs burned. But their eyes?

Calm. Focused.

There was no hatred here. No arrogance. Just mutual understanding.

The kind that only came from shared suffering.

Eventually, the first cultivator sat up and reached for the canteen he’d left leaning against a nearby rock. It had a dent in it now, probably from a stray blow.

He opened it, took a long drink, then tossed it to his opponent.

The second caught it and nodded.

“You’re improving,” he said after a sip.

“So are you,” the first replied. “Your talisman wave—faster than last time.”

“Had to be. You nearly broke through the last one with just your voice.”

They both chuckled weakly.

Minutes passed like that—quiet, but not awkward.

Then the second cultivator leaned back and looked toward the treeline.

“Think we’ll hit the next cultivation realm someday?”

The first raised an eyebrow. “You doubting yourself?”

“No. Just wondering what comes next. We’re Voidbreak now… but where do we go from here?”

The first didn’t answer right away.

He looked down at his hands—scarred, bloodied, calloused. Fingers that had shaped qi since he was a teenager. Palms that had caught spears, lightning, and fire.

His voice came softly.

“We go forward.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all there ever is.”

The second stared at him for a second, then nodded.

“Yeah. I like that.”

The wind picked up slightly, moving the torn strands of their clothing. Insects buzzed faintly in the distance. Life was returning to the field, even if it looked like a warzone.

“Wanna head back?” the second asked.

“In a bit.”

The first got to his feet, shaking off the dust. His leg tensed for a moment—tight from impact—but the pain was already fading.

The muscle beneath had started repairing itself the moment he stopped moving.

He stepped forward without hesitation, rolling his shoulders as he crossed the broken ground and climbed onto a nearby boulder, half-split from the shockwaves of their fight. No limping. Just controlled motion.

From there, he could see the whole valley.

Mountains in the far distance. Trees are still rustling. A few birds are slowly returning to the sky.

And at the center of it all—the crater they made.

He sat there in silence, eyes half-closed.

The second joined him a minute later, dragging himself up onto the rock with one hand.

They sat together.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Two friends.

Two monsters in the making.

“You think anyone sensed that clash?” the second asked.

The first chuckled. “If they didn’t, they’re either deaf or dead.”

“Good. I hope they come looking.”

The first looked over.

“Why?”

The second’s eyes gleamed.

“Because I want to see who dares.”

The first smirked.

“You sound like a villain.”

“I’m just tired of hiding how strong we are. We earned this. Let the world see it.”

“…Maybe not yet.”

“Still being cautious?”

“Always.”

Another moment passed.

“Alright,” the second finally said, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s move. Before our cores overheat and we start leaking qi like rookies.”

The first stood, brushing a bit of ash from his sleeve. Their steps were firm now, steady—still carrying traces of battle exhaustion, but nothing weak.

Their bones had already knit. Their muscles had sealed. Only the blood on their robes said a fight ever happened.

They walked without hesitation.

Their presence didn’t weigh on the ground—it weighed on the world around them.

Trees stilled as they passed. The air felt thicker. Every footstep felt like it mattered.

They didn’t move like tired men.

They moved like Voidbreakers.

And the world would notice.

Soon.

They walked through the forest path with quiet control, each step measured but calm. Their breathing had returned to normal, steady and deep.

The kind of breath only high-level cultivators could maintain after a battle like that.

Every so often, one of them would glance around—not out of fear, but instinct. Awareness like that didn’t fade with victory. It sharpened with it.

Birds had returned to the canopy. Squirrels darted between branches again. The forest had started to breathe like nothing had happened, but here and there—scorched bark, split stones, scorched leaves—signs of chaos still lingered.

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