Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)
Chapter 413: Retribution

Chapter 413: Retribution

The Imperial Lord’s sneer deepened. "I am still your father," he said, his voice laced with a warning. "You will speak to me with respect."

Xiang Yu’s response was swift and brutal. Without warning, he lashed out with the whip concealed beneath his gear. The Imperial Lord caught off guard, managed to dodge, but not before the whip grazed his cheek, leaving a stinging welt. The Imperial Lord’s eyes widened in shock and fury. He hadn’t expected his son to attack him, not now, not ever.

Xiang Yu’s plasma whip left a searing burn mark on the Imperial Lord’s cheek. The Imperial Lord’s head snapped around, his face contorted with rage. He touched the injured area, his fingers trembling slightly. His eyes, now burning with a murderous light, locked onto Xiang Yu.

He gritted his teeth, unleashing an overwhelming wave of pressure, the raw power of a high-ranking Alpha crashing down on Xiang Yu. It felt like a physical weight, a crushing force pressing him towards the ground, demanding submission. Blood trickled from Xiang Yu’s nose as he fought against the oppressive power, his own will refusing to break.

"This is why you should have never let that Alpha mark you," the Imperial Lord snarled, taking a menacing step forward. "I made you strong, powerful. I ensured that no one would look down on you and that you could take the throne without issue.

And you squandered it! For what?" His voice dripped with contempt. "Look at you now. Weak. Pathetic... I handed you everything on a silver platter, and what did you do? You wasted it on someone who would throw you under the bus given the opportunity."

Xiang Yu refused to let his father’s venomous words poison his mind. He focused, channelling his inner strength, tapping into the dark power of his demon blood. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he pushed back against the Imperial Lord’s oppressive aura.

He lashed out again with his whip, this time wrapping it around a heavy desk, then with a powerful heave, he sent the desk hurtling towards the Imperial Lord.

The Imperial Lord smashed the desk to pieces with a single blow, sending papers and trinkets flying. Xiang Yu cracked his whip once more, but the Imperial Lord, anticipating the attack, grabbed the whip mid-air, the plasma burning his palm, but he didn’t flinch.

With a sudden, violent yank, he pulled Xiang Yu forward, almost causing him to trip. Xiang Yu reacted instantly, drawing his plasma gun and firing. The Imperial Lord released the whip and dodged the blast, the sudden release causing Xiang Yu to stumble back a step.

Seizing the opportunity, the Imperial Lord swung his hand, the force of the blow sending Xiang Yu crashing into the wall. Xiang Yu, despite the pain, rose to his feet, a sneer twisting his lips.

The atmosphere in the imperial study crackled with tension as the two figures faced each other, the ornate walls adorned with ancestral paintings witnessing the culmination of anger and betrayal.

Xiang Yu bathed in the glow of his plasma whip and brandished it like a living serpent, its energy pulsating with a vibrant intensity that thrummed with his rage. His father, the Imperial Lord, towered over him, his superiority as a high-ranking alpha suffocating.

"Do you think your pathetic weapons will save you? That is child’s play," the Imperial Lord’s voice was a low growl, filled with disdain.

Xiang Yu, unyielding, responded with a sneer, "We will see." He ignited the plasma whip again, casting flickering shadows across the room, and lunged forward, the weapon hissing as it sliced through the air.

But the moment his whip lashed out, the Imperial Lord dashed to the side, his instincts honed by years of combat. Xiang Yu’s strike missed, but he recovered quickly, pivoting and unleashing a torrent of plasma bolts from his gun.

The Imperial Lord raised his arm, emanating a barrier of mental energy that absorbed the blasts and, with a swift motion, countered with a fist that swung with the weight of a mountain.

Xiang Yu felt the impact vibrate through his bones as he was sent crashing into a towering bookshelf. Books and scrolls cascaded around him like confetti, but he pushed aside the pain, fueled by his demonic power raging within him. With a feral growl, he surged to his feet, his form a blur as he charged again, determination igniting flames within him.

Strike after strike, he found his father’s defences unyielding. Each time he was beaten back, waves of power surged within him, a force that was both exhilarating and punishing. The duality of his mental prowess drove him towards the brink, and he stood, arms shaking, blood trickling down his brow. The study felt smaller with each failed attempt, the air thickening with the intensity of their conflict.

"Pei pathetic," the Imperial Lord said, launching himself forward and gripping Xiang Yu’s neck, lifting him clean off the ground. "You will never be strong enough."

Xiang Yu’s mind raced. He fought against the pressure constricting his throat, the darkness encroaching on his vision. With a desperate fury, he reached into his pocket, fingers curling around the hilt of a hidden dagger. The blade glinted ominously, and with a final surge of will, he plunged it deep into his father’s side, twisting the knife mercilessly.

The Imperial Lord staggered back, releasing his hold, blood spilling from the wound in a dark cascade. Xiang Yu dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, a devilish grin spreading across his bruised face. "What is it, father?... Can’t get up?"

Coughing and wheezing, he watched as the bleeding figure before him faltered, disbelief etched on his father’s face. The once-mighty Imperial Lord knelt to the ground, hands clutching his side, the poison infiltrating his body, sapping his strength.

"What... what have you done to me?" he gasped his voice a shadow of its former command.

Xiang Yu’s smile widened, an echo of satisfaction amidst the chaos. "Retribution," he rasped, breathless but triumphant. "It’s retribution for your past sins. "

He laughed, a chilling, triumphant sound. He wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, a casual gesture that belied the ferocity of the recent struggle. He rose, smoothing back the hair that had fallen across his forehead. He glanced down at his father, who was desperately trying to crawl away, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.