"Mid-grade Spiritual Artifact?"
Everyone turned their attention toward the black and white Feathered Wings Spirit Artifact, with greedy flas flickering in their eyes.
A Mid-grade Spiritual Artifact was a treasure qualified only for the warriors of the Sect Martial Realm, and even many at the Initial Stage of Sect Martial Realm could not produce a single one of these artifacts, indicating their significant value.
Especially since this Mid-grade Spiritual Artifact was clearly a specially crafted, high-quality Flying Spiritual Artifact, its value was even greater, and everyone wanted to get their hands on it if they could.
"You only have the ti of ten breaths to consider. Once the ti is up, the teleportation formation will automatically close, and by then, even if you want to leave, you won't be able to."
The voice of the Sect Martial elder rang out again.
"Let's go."
After hesitating for a mont, so of them gritted their teeth, leaped up, and stepped into the teleportation formation to leave.
Although leaving like this was hard to swallow, these people were well aware of their limits. They clearly understood that neither Yu Wenhui, Zhao Letian, Xiao, nor Murong Zhan were opponents they could contend with; not leaving ant only a dead end awaited.
Before long, more than half had departed, leaving only about a dozen people at the scene.
"Aren't you leaving yet?"
Yu Wenhui looked at the remaining few with a cold and mocking smile.
"Yu Wenhui, we acknowledge your strength, but we too are geniuses in our own right. Having held on until now, we can't just leave without a fight—that would be too unsatisfying."
"That's right. One-on-one, perhaps we wouldn't be your match, but if we join forces, we could certainly stand against you."
Those remaining people gathered together, tightly clutching their Spiritual Artifacts, with True Yuan Power surging around them, warily watching Yu Wenhui, Zhao Letian, and the others.
"Just you lot, thinking of battling this young master? Utterly overestimating yourselves, all of you can go die."
Yu Wenhui sneered disdainfully, and with a flicker of his figure, he wielded his sword with astonishing speed, slashing towards the dozen or so people.
"Let's fight him."
"Kill!"
The expressions of those dozen people darkened, and they all swung their Spiritual Artifacts, attacking Yu Wenhui together.
"Swish!"
With a re casual swing, Yu Wenhui unleashed a huge sword radiance over thirty feet long, its montum sweeping across impressively.
"Six-star Spiritual Artifact? Seven-layered Sword Force? Xuan-level High-stage Sword Skill?"
Zhao Letian was suddenly startled, a shade of apprehension crossing his eyes.
No wonder he found Yu Wenhui unfathomable—the other's sword force was just as formidable as his own, and the level of his sword techniques was even higher.
"Sss! Sss! Sss!..."
Yu Wenhui's sword radiance was unstoppable. All of the attacking Martial Artists perished, without a single survivor.
"A bunch of trash, dying by this young master's hand should be a matter of pride for you."
Yu Wenhui said indifferently, casually collecting the belongings off the bodies.
With that, aside from Yu Wenhui, only Zhao Letian, Murong Zhan, and Xiao remained on-site. The four of them were set to engage in the final showdown to decide the ultimate champion.
"Prince, why didn't you leave?"
Zhao Letian looked at Murong Zhan with a slightly furrowed brow, asking with so confusion.
Murong Zhan didn't need to vie for ultimate champion; it wasn't worth risking his life to stay.
"Hehe, after a hard wait for the final decisive battle, it wouldn't be satisfying not to compete with you monstrous talents. But rest assured, I have no intention of contesting the championship; I just want to learn through exchange with this number one talent from the Snow Eagle Tribe."
Murong Zhan cracked a smile, casting his gaze upon Xiao, tightly gripping the black iron rod in his hand, his eyes revealing a strong desire to fight.
"I heard you're also one of the top ten sons of the Royal Capital; I hope you won't disappoint ."
Unfazed, Xiao spoke, his body releasing the powerful aura of the True Martial Second Realm.
"True Martial Second Realm? It seems your true cultivation has already ascended to the True Martial Eighth Realm. Conveniently, my cultivation has also increased by one level."
Murong Zhan smiled indifferently, and likewise emitted the aura of the True Martial Second Realm.
"Wind-splitting Saber!"
Xiao didn't waste words, with a deep shout, his figure flashed, slashing over with a scimitar, the Six-star Spiritual Artifact scimitar exuding six layers of saber force and six layers of wind force, its might unparalleled.
"Daluo Stick!"
Murong Zhan's gaze sharpened as he also swung the Six-star Spiritual Artifact iron rod, smashing it down with the iron rod carrying six layers of stick force and six layers of the earth's force, formidable and mighty.
"Unexpectedly, Murong Zhan's strength is so powerful; it seems I underestimated him before."
Zhao Letian watched the battle between Murong Zhan and Xiao with a slight shock.
He always thought that Murong Zhan's talent was only sowhat superior to Wanyan Zheng's, that even if he was stronger, it would not be by much. But now it seed that Murong Zhan's talent was far better than Wanyan Zheng's, certainly comparable to Xiao's. Their strengths were very close at the mont, making it difficult to determine the victor in a short ti.
"Kid, don't say this young master didn't give you a chance. I'll let you make the first move, else you might not even get the chance to strike later."
At this mont, Yu Wenhui looked at Zhao Letian with a taunting and cold sneer. This translation is powered by the readers at *.
"Wind Thunder Sword!"
Zhao Letian shouted deeply, swinging his sword to strike.
"True Martial Third Realm cultivation? Seven-layered Sword Force? Six layers of wind force, six layers of thunder force? No wonder you dare to be so insolent in front of this young master. You do have so skills. However, your power is not yet worthy of my attention."
Yu Wenhui was greatly shocked; Zhao Letian's strength was more formidable than he had anticipated, but it was still within an acceptable range. Therefore, he did not panic and, wielding his sword fearlessly, clashed with it; the blade wrapped in wind blades and a compelling chill.
"Seven-layered Sword Force? Seven layers of wind force? Seven Ice Formation?"
Zhao Letian revealed a look of shock in his eyes and quickly deployed the Sixth Fire Formation, attaching it to his sword.
Yu Wenhui's strength had far exceeded his expectations as well, posing a severe threat that commanded his wariness and at the sa ti exhilarating him. This was the caliber of a true talent, an opponent worthy of his full-fledged fight.
"There's another layer of force?"
Yu Wenhui furrowed his brows, his heart filled with frustration.
He hadn't expected Zhao Letian to still conceal one layer of force during their battle. With the addition of this Sixth Fire Formation, he no longer had absolute confidence in defeating Zhao Letian.
"Boom!"
In a fraction of a second, the swords in their hands clashed, and the violent energy expanded outwards, propelling them both away.
"Humph!"
As a result, Zhao Letian let out a muffled grunt, retreating more than ten ters, his internal energy roiling uncomfortably.
While Yu Wenhui only retreated about seven or eight ters, he too had a sowhat unsteady breath, and was not feeling great.
Reviews
All reviews (0)