The cut is as smooth as a mirror.
Only then did the dark red blood gush out from his separated body like a burst dam, completely staining the black soil beneath his feet deep red.
The two halves of the body crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The entire venue was deathly silent.
The dust and smoke that had just been deafening slowly dissipated, revealing the still-standing white figure in the center of the arena.
He held a dark red demonic sword, dressed in pristine white robes, spotless and immaculate.
Not a single drop of the blood that gushed forth from that burly man, who was strong enough to tear steel apart, managed to splash onto the hem of his clothes.
Tens of thousands of eyes were focused on him.
If the silence that followed his first appearance stemmed from astonishment and ridicule...
The deathly silence at this moment stems from a deep-seated fear and shock.
One sword.
Just one sword strike.
A powerful figure who had achieved a winning streak of more than ten matches and was infamous was cleanly and decisively cut in two by a seemingly weak and helpless boy.
This visual impact, this extreme reversal between strength and weakness, is more impactful on the minds of these depraved individuals than any bloody massacre.
"Gulp."
Someone swallowed hard in the silence, the sound unusually clear in the empty killing field.
Immediately afterwards, a collective gasp erupted from the stands.
Those who had been shouting the loudest earlier were now pale-faced and instinctively covered their mouths, afraid of making a sound that might attract the attention of the "demon" in the arena.
"I...I didn't see wrong, did I?"
"Instant kill?!"
"That's 'Bonecrusher' Buck! Twenty-one winning streak! And just like that... it's gone?"
"Who...who exactly is he?"
Fear, like a plague, spread in the hearts of tens of thousands of fallen people.
When they looked at the boy in the arena again, their eyes no longer held any contempt or mockery, but only awe and fear.
This boy in white is not a lamb that has strayed into a pack of wolves.
He is a prehistoric beast in sheep's clothing!
On the upper tier of the stands.
Xu Jiushi whistled and chuckled, "Beautiful! That sword strike was clean and crisp, I like it!"
A smile appeared on Titan's usually serious face, and he nodded: "The sect leader's strength has improved again."
They saw more than the average degenerate.
That sword strike was not just fast, but also contained a perfect control over timing, angle, and power.
Adding even a fraction would be a waste, while subtracting even a fraction would leave one unable to achieve one's goals.
Bibi Dong and Yue Guan also showed a glint in their eyes.
However, Bibi Dong was somewhat shocked.
That sword...
In the field.
Ning Liu casually twirled his sword, and the dark red Asura Demon Sword emitted a pleasant hum, absorbing the bloodstains on its blade and becoming even more eerie.
He didn't look at the two pieces of corpse on the ground, nor did he pay attention to the terrified gazes from the stands.
He simply raised his head, his clear gaze piercing through tens of thousands of spectators, landing in the direction of the killing arena's host, whose location was unknown.
His calm voice, once again amplified, resonated clearly throughout the venue.
"Next."
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