Although everyone had already learned of the outcome through Zhang Lang's words, Li Yun's victory appeared anything but glorious.
At that moment, Li Yun's black hair was in complete disarray, his clothes were torn apart, and his exposed body was covered in ugly wounds from which blood continued to flow. His condition looked miserable, almost like a demonic figure that had just crawled out from a sea of blood.
Even so, not a single person present mocked him. On the contrary, every gaze directed toward Li Yun was filled with deep awe. Even the usually arrogant Ling Chong looked at him no differently.
This was a world where strength commanded respect. No matter how humble one's appearance might be, true power would earn admiration wherever one went. Without strength, however, even someone who ruled over a nation would likely be ignored.
