From childhood onward, he had relied on his father's power and cultivation to run rampant without restraint, and had never seen Duanmu Tianhe suffer even a single defeat. In his heart, Duanmu Tianhe was an invincible pillar of support, the source of all his arrogance and tyranny.
But now, his strongest pillar of support had come crashing down before his eyes.
Su Fei stood where he was, saber in hand, the golden-red saber flames around him slowly receding. His figure was upright, and his robes stirred without a breeze.
He lowered his gaze to Duanmu Tianhe, who lay on the ground gravely wounded, vomiting blood and looking utterly bedraggled. His voice was cool and clear.
"The third layer of Dharma Aspect, the sect master of the Flying Eagle Sect-and this is all you amount to."
"You bullied the weak with your strength, indulged your own son, colluded with demons, and brought chaos to Qingyang Circuit. Your defeat today is retribution for you and your son."
Slumped on the ground, Duanmu Tianhe heard Su Fei's words and was just about to say something, but his injuries were so severe that he began coughing violently. He doubled over like a river shrimp, involuntarily spat out another mouthful of blood, and then lost consciousness.
As Su Fei's words fell, a heavy pall of terror once again enveloped the deathly silence.
Duanmu Tianhe lay unconscious on the ground, gravely wounded, his breathing faint, his survival uncertain. The disciples of the Flying Eagle Sect had long since been frightened out of their wits. Each huddled in a corner, without even the courage to raise their heads and look Su Fei in the eye.
Slumped on the ground, Duanmu Hua looked at his unconscious father, who had gone completely still, and the last shred of confidence