As the light faded, the scene on the arena became clear. Chen Feiyang hovered in midair, his clothes and armor shattered, even a layer of skin stripped from his body. He was grievously wounded.
Just now, he had been bombarded by a large group of Dragon Race warriors, followed by Fan Lang's own attacks. All of his defensive measures had been destroyed, and his life had even been threatened.
Fan Lang floated higher in the air, looking down at the heavily wounded Chen Feiyang. Calmly, he said, "I told you earlier that there was no need for you to hold back. You understand now, don't you?"
Chen Feiyang coughed twice. He was temporarily unable to say anything, looking utterly miserable.
This scene played out before tens of thousands of people, drawing vastly different reactions from the Martial Gods of the two kingdoms. Some rejoiced while others despaired.
"Haha, well done, Fan Lang! You've brought honor to our Aurora God Kingdom. We lost one match and drew another; it's about time we won one, lest the people of the Taijin God Kingdom look down on us."
"Defeating someone in the Eternal Realm while only in the Dao Domain Realm—and Chen Feiyang at that. Fan Lang's strength is truly inconceivable."
"He won by relying on that huge group of Dragon Race warriors, not on his own power."
"Being able to command so many Dragon Race warriors is an ability in itself. Not just anyone can do it. Commanding dragons in battle requires splitting one's consciousness; the more dragons there are, the greater the mental burden required."
The people of the Aurora God Kingdom were full of enthusiasm, each of them delighted.
A person's honor and disgrace concerned the honor and disgrace of their nation.
The reverse was also true. Individuals and nations