Pillar of Yita

Fang Hong staggered backwards, too weak to respond. The mention of the Hailin Crown by his opponent greatly surprised him.

He assumed his opponent was from the Dragonfire Guild, so without thinking, he raised his left hand and flipped the middle finger.

But before the gesture was complete, he saw his opponent’s right hand whip like a blade, slashing towards him. ”!?”. He couldn’t help but curse inwardly; the opponent was too relentless, leaving him no space to catch his breath.

At this moment, the silver line shifted to the upper left, Fang Hong stepped back, and his right hand snapped back to retract the Pride of the Lonely King. He raised his right hand again, blocking his chest.

The strike landed on the ’Pride of the Lonely King’, and he could almost hear a teeth-grinding groan from his Reinforced Gloves. Despite being a Legendary Level Equipment, it almost crumbled under the single blade-like strike.

Fang Hong had no time to lament over his equipment, for a huge force had already traversed through his arm, hitting his chest and directly sent him flying. He landed heavily on the ground, and could hear the crack of bones in his right hand.

His right hand was nearly numb.

The three exchanges seemed long in storytelling, but in reality, they happened in a flash. In the live broadcast, the audience hardly managed to discern the movements, only witnessing the spark ’bam, bam, bam’ as three fireballs bloomed in the darkness. Qing made three continuous aggressive moves; yet none of them reached completion.

Silence befell the live stream; everyone was utterly stupefied. Fang Hong’s three blocks, with nearly perfect judgment, were executed so flawlessly that even supporters of the opposing side couldn’t help but silently exclaim in admiration.

Some encounters are like art, leaving the deepest impressions.

Though just three brief clashes, they were sufficient to etch the image of the youth into the minds of these people—individuals like Qing fear most the lack of equally matched opponents and high-quality matches. And these fans, why wouldn’t they desire to witness visually pleasing duels?

But after this brief illusion passed, people suddenly considered another issue—the opponent wasn’t actually equally matched; they were just a rookie. A rookie who, back at the Forest of Morning Dawn Star, couldn’t even raise his head against Qin Zhi.

Could he have grown to this extent?

How is that possible?

Many couldn’t help but recall the widely circulated saying in the community, the assertion that in the China Competition Region, in the next twenty years, could the next generation of the Ten Kings already be emerging? With King of Grey FOX nearing retirement, would one of the next Ten Kings be first decided among the Combat Artisans?

Some said it might be Loofah, but others, couldn’t help but have a fleeting shadow cross their mind.

That shadow, once stirred many hearts in the underground of Fenris Isle.

Qing himself was momentarily dazed.

Others might not understand, but at that prior moment, he truly felt as though he was confronting an opponent not too inferior to himself. He wondered if he was overthinking it, as he almost felt that the opponent’s judgment and combat intuition was overwhelmingly superior to his, forming a crushing pressure.

But how could that be?

In reality, the opponent seemed to behave in the way a rookie should.

He said not a word, just reached back his hand, and the long spear nearby automatically flew into his grasp. With the green spear in hand, his mind was resolute, having sensed a hint of unease, his prudence wouldn’t allow such unease to spread.

Qing raised the spear, forcefully swung forward, sending intersecting light blades slicing into the darkness.

In the live stream, everyone could see Qing was indeed serious now.

The light blades appeared slow, but were actually swift—sweeping through, carving a trench in the rear, where molten rock bent headlong.

In Fang Hong’s eyes, it was like a pair of white fangs lunging at him. Superior—upon seeing the glow, he realized his opponent was a Chosen from the Second World.

Only a Chosen from the Second World could let Magic Power particleize over such distances. The opponent hadn’t been exerting full effort before, and the thought quickly passed his mind, grateful the opponent hadn’t started with lethal intent.

But now, this strike wasn’t about to spare him.

The silver line bent towards a far direction, far over a hundred feet away, R seeming oblivious as to whether he could instantly reach that place.

Just as Fang Hong was sent flying, his left hand accurately caught the returning Flying Claw, lightly grasping it. A pale blue Light Gate opened behind him, a graceful silver figure unfolded from behind him, raising blade-like hands to shield him.

The Energy Angel shimmered with fluorescence, then both simultaneously etherized, in a dance of light and shadow, two Light Gates unfolded.

’The two’ continuously passed through the two Light Gates, retreating backward. The next moment, nearly was the light blade sweeping past them, impacting the rock wall in that direction, and after a tectonic rumble, leaving intersecting slash marks.

Qing’s attack once again fell short, yet the live stream remained silent—

At this moment, everyone could see clearly; the opposite youth wasn’t truly formidable, in line with his identity—a rookie Combat Artisan. However, his combat will and judgment were simply phenomenal.

This brilliance, placed anywhere else, would elicit cheers from anyone. But here, the youth was the enemy of the supporters.