Recommendation Tickets, please
Lian Changzhi's Soul Douluo pressure came down like a collapsing mountain, sending everyone from Chang'an Academy plunging as if into an ice cellar.
That pressure was not a raging hurricane, but a viscous undercurrent, wrapped in a bone-deep chill like a thousand-year cold pool, silently seeping into everyone's marrow.
Those with slightly weaker cultivation already felt stabbing pain in their sea of consciousness, as if countless silver needles were darting wildly through the depths of their souls. Even breathing became sluggish and difficult.
The Upper Soul Nest opened at the Soul Sage realm was originally a chance for Mental Power to transform.
Only upon reaching the Soul Douluo realm could a soul master truly touch the mysteries of Mental Power—that vast Soul Power like a Star River, which could condense into tangible blades and swords, or turn into the gentle comfort of spring wind and rain.
Twenty or thirty years of accumulation was enough for the strong to temper their Mental Power until it obeyed like an extension of their own limbs, becoming either life-saving nectar or world-destroying Thunder.
His actions showed that he wanted them to speak, but under the pressure he was forcing down on them like someone shoving an ox's head to water, no one was willing to open their mouths.
Xiao Yi still stood quietly like a jade statue in the snow, the jade hairpin in her hair flowing with cold radiance. She was still handling the enormous turmoil in her sea of consciousness.
Before she could speak, Chen Mu, standing at her side, took half a step forward.
This leader of the Chang'an students present was wreathed in a faint blue glow, like dawn piercing through the clouds. "Dean Lian's personal arrival should have been a fortunate event that brought glory