"...Not a newcomer to the world of mountains and seas?"
"Wang Shuo is ridiculously strong!"
"So, even if Shen Qian stepped into the Mountain and Sea Realm, it would be useless?"
Amid the uproar, many people realized something and turned their attention to the young man standing in the corner of the arena.
Amidst the howling wind, Shen Qian's clothes fluttered, his face remaining calm. However, compared to Wang Shuo, who stood high in the sky like a demon god descending to earth, his figure appeared so frail at this moment.
"Sinking forward..."
Inside the military rest room in Jiangzhong, everyone had a solemn expression.
But there was nothing they could do at this moment. Even Cheng Qingqing seemed to have no intention of making a move. She simply stood silently by the French windows, gazing at the scene on the arena.
Surrounded by stars and amidst a raging storm, Wang Shuo stood in mid-air, his tall body shimmering with light. He looked down at Chen Qian, and when he spoke, the heavens and earth trembled.
"Shen Qian, what do you have to compare with me now!"
Behind the indifferent questioning lies boundless confidence.
Wang Shuo's gaze was no longer on Shen Qian; he saw the dazzling starry river in the far distance, and the infinitely vast and profound world. The Dao behind him began to take root and sprout.
At this moment, Wang Shuo was at the peak of his spirit and energy, and he casually stretched his limbs.
The projection of the Great Road behind it also grew slightly larger without anyone noticing.
An invisible gaze was cast down from high above, yet it still drew gasps of wonder.
While Wang Shuo stunned the world with his extraordinary talent, Shen Qian, who was standing at the edge of the ring, seemed to be in a daze for a while, or perhaps he was also stunned by Wang Shuo. After a while, he slowly raised his head.
"What a pity."
He uttered three words before sinking in, his face showing some emotion.
Everyone thought he was talking about himself, but Shen Qian pulled a knife out of nothingness.
It was a long sword completely sealed in a black scabbard.
Then it sank forward and moved.
He walked on air, climbing the steps.
As he moved, the spiritual energy storm that had been compressed around him began to spread, slowly but steadily pushing away all the pressure.
With each step he took, the world regained a bit of clarity.
When he finally stepped into the air amidst Wang Shuo's slightly astonished gaze, the world was once again divided.
Everything was so calm and natural, without any illusions or splendor.
It was as if... that's how it was supposed to be when he walked up there.
The sounds inside the main stadium faded away, and everyone was somewhat stunned.
The left side of the world occupied by Wang Shuo was surrounded by wind and rain, with twinkling stars, resembling a scene of world destruction, while the right side of the world where Shen Qian was located was peaceful and sunny.
Such a bizarre and stark contrast is like a bold stroke of ink, leaving a deep impression on countless people.
Those martial artists from the Mountain and Sea Sect who had initially offered their comments stared wide-eyed.
Only they can react the fastest to what this means.
But they don't understand.
They didn't understand why the sinking could be so calm and collected.
Even the projection of the Great Road did not appear.
Many more people have even more misunderstandings.
Even if the host wanted to say something, they wouldn't know where to begin.
At that moment, Shen Qian drew his sword.
He slowly drew out his long sword.
It was a cyan blade with red lines that vaguely formed the shape of a river, and the back of the blade was engraved with the twenty-eight constellations, each detail clearly visible.
Chen Qian drew his sword very slowly, so slowly that everyone could clearly see the beauty of the long blade.
"Wang Shuo, since that's the case, I'll take it as you being ready."
Shen Qian suddenly spoke, uttering a sentence that seemed to have no beginning or end.
After a brief moment of astonishment, a cold smile appeared on Wang Shuo's face, but the next moment, his smile froze.
In Western creation myths, God said, "Let there be light," and there was light.
In the East, Pangu split the heavens and earth from chaos, and light tore through the darkness, thus beginning the beginning.
At this moment, Wang Shuo, whose brain was shrinking rapidly, also saw a glimmer of light.
Or rather, everyone saw that glimmer of light.
That dazzling light, which devoured all perception.
Light exists for a very short time, but the eyes cannot see or the ears can not hear. It is only a few seconds, but in the minds of many people at the scene, it seems as long as a century.
When everyone finally regained their senses and realized what might have happened, their eyes immediately turned to the center of the arena.
A massive blade of light, over a hundred feet long, appeared between heaven and earth. Its trajectory was so clear, like a frozen landscape painting, deeply imprinted in everyone's hearts.
But soon, the blade's aura began to dissipate in an illusory manner.
Only then did many people realize that what they had seen was just an afterimage.
The world has unknowingly returned to its clear state.
Apart from the still surging winds and clouds, the vast starry sky and the void rifts have vanished without a trace.
There was no more separation, no more stars or wind and rain, only two figures standing quietly in mid-air.
The dragon scales covering Wang Shuo's body had long since disappeared, and his figure had returned to its normal size.
But his posture was strange; his back was hunched, and his hands were outstretched in front of him, as if he were blocking something.
The lingering sneer at the corner of his mouth seemed not to have faded, but the expression on his face was distorted into a strange arc as he was eager to express something.
Meanwhile, Shen Qian stood quietly opposite him, his long sword already sheathed, just as he had when he first came up.
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