Zhao Fan and the Sword Hermit sat across from one another and the mystical board laid between them like an altar to the intangible forces governing their existence.
If Zhao Fan lost, it would mean his end, a heartbreaking reality that Zhao Fan understood very well. Not to mention, it's tragic to think that this floor holds the power to annihilate an entire team, because only one emperor exists for the whole team.
Logically speaking, if someone like Lu Tian played the game, the team is bound to fall unable to find peace.
Woosh~
The cold soul-chilling air around them moved subtly with a low wooshing that knew the wonders of worlds and the height of Mount Tai.
Not to mention, the destiny's thread, and the weight of the game pressed down heavy as if the very heavens watched, to which they did.
Because the game of fate was no ordinary contest, even the Laozi of the east and the emperor of the west might tremble as it was a trial of will, intellect, and wisdom.
