The ground-shaking sound echoed, and space collapsed as a gigantic mushroom cloud rose, slowly blooming like a lotus. The sky trembled, fierce winds surged, roaring as if the end had come.
The King's face was grim. He clenched his teeth, his fists tight, a twisted look in his eyes. He knew that Wang Xi's injury under this sword was almost inevitable.
The master of the Fang Family looked on with admiration, saying, "Our junior master's prowess is truly formidable. With mid-stage Martial Emperor cultivation, he can kill a late-stage Martial Arts Sect master. He's a trailblazer, the first and only. Don't you agree, King?"
"Hmph!"
The King's master snorted, flicking his sleeve with a huff.
In the audience, people stared at the endless thick fog, speaking animatedly.
A woman whispered, "I wonder how Wang Xi is doing?"
An old man pondered before saying, "I'm afraid she might have succumbed to her injuries under that sword."
"Gulp!"
