Shen Ao could see it, and Liao Qihui, Zhan Fei, and Fan Zeng could see it just as clearly. Doubts rose in all their hearts. Their opponent was completely unhurt, while they had already suffered losses. Was there still any point in fighting?
This doubt did not stem from cowardice or fear of trouble, but from Xiang Yang's terrifyingly overwhelming performance. He had slain two Celestials in succession; no one could guarantee that they would not be next.
Liao Qihui slowly shifted his feet. The vigorous qi and blood that had originally overflowed from his burly body and coiled over his skin now all withdrew. His aura settled, while his eyes flickered uncertainly, as though he had other plans in mind.
Fan Zeng opened his previously narrowed eyes, his fat face tightening as he too took an inconspicuous step back. Beyond his hatred and rage over Xiang Yang killing Hu Tao, there was now an added measure of fear in his heart.
After all, he and Hu Tao had opposed Shen Ao's plan to deal with Xiang Yang from the very beginning. If Mo Fengnian had not persuaded them, and if Shen Ao had not sworn there would be no mistakes, he would never have waded into these muddy waters!
As for Zhan Fei, his red face turned even redder. The soft, threadlike force of his Sky Turning Palm had just been severed by Xiang Yang's blade qi, and the rebounding inner force left his insides churning without cease. Though he was not injured, he was far from feeling well.
At this moment, he too wished to retreat. He felt that if another person were to die here, he himself was most likely to perish. How could he not weigh it carefully?
Since ancient times, marching into battle had been