Wei Ji let the silence hang for a moment. The tension in the hall felt like a blade pressed to everyone's throats. His gaze moved between Han Zukong and Han Zhanjian, both standing still, panting, drenched in sweat. The faint shimmer of spiritual light still lingered around their swords, but neither dared move again. Wei Ji finally spoke, his tone quiet yet filled with weight.
"You don't have to fight."
The words were calm, but they fell like thunder in the quiet hall. Everyone looked at him, unsure if they'd heard correctly.
Han Zukong blinked, still breathing hard. "What?"
