The Realm

Blazing sun.

His black robes snapped in the wind, his crimson hair blood-red.

The crafty punch of that green-faced, fanged figure had already struck.

"Soul-Devouring Fist."

"True Dragon Fist!"

Though the old man was horrified, he still reacted swiftly.

His protective astral qi formed a dome around him. Spiritual energy gathered, his aura compressed, and his true-intent divine power soared to its peak at this moment.

Bang!

The ripples of their collision and the shockwave of the explosion erupted abruptly. The wind generated by the impact turned into a hurricane, spreading dozens of miles in an instant. This was not a battle within a dharma domain. If the aftershocks of two peak Nascent Soul cultivators' clash were not dispelled, it would be an indescribable disaster for Xingluo.

Silence and returning to simplicity were relative concepts. When one possessed a realm advantage, one could control the battle's aftershocks to the bare minimum, even isolate them entirely within a dharma domain and keep them under control. Yet when two opponents were evenly matched, a hard clash of strength was what both sides had to consider.

Though this place had been deliberately chosen by the East Sea, with no living creatures dwelling or breeding here, the entire plains, rainforests, mountains... had all been turned into ruined wastelands by the aftershocks. Craters formed by residual spiritual power appeared one after another, while ravines sliced open by spiritual winds stretched without end.

Generally speaking, cultivators would open their dharma domains during battle to prevent their aura from leaking out and harming living beings. Others simply ascended thousands of feet into the sky. No matter what spells or divine powers they used, the residual force scattered in flight could not possibly reach so far. If flying swords still crossed the sky a thousand miles away, someone