The entire venue shook so hard that everyone nearly broke into dance.
Why?
Because Ye Xingchen had grabbed Ling Li by both legs and was wildly smashing him from left to right, then right to left, each swing shaking the ground and affecting the nearby buildings.
Though the spectators worried that the arena might suddenly collapse, they could not help looking toward the Sparring Platform, at the man unleashing violence with the strength to pull up mountains and spirit to overshadow the world. The longer they watched, the more engrossed they became, the more intoxicated they grew.
There were many ways to abuse someone, but most involved punches and kicks. Yet someone like Ye Xingchen, grabbing another person by the legs and sending him crashing at both ends, making flowers bloom on all sides—this was truly violence with an aesthetic.
Especially the sound.
Boom!
Boom!
Listen. Wasn't that fist meeting flesh?
Listen again. Wasn't that flesh meeting earth?
It was truly marvelous, like heavenly music, leaving people refreshed and exhilarated.
As Ling Li struck the floor and scraped against the dirt, the sounds seemed to carry everyone's souls farther and farther away, until their shoulders began to twitch involuntarily.
Wow.
They were dancing so well.
"..."
On the floating platform, the Demon Emperor's fury slowly rose in his eyes.
His most valued adopted son was being toyed with in the palm of an Eternal Sect Disciple's hand. He simply could not accept it.
Rumble!
Suddenly, another crash came from the Sparring Platform.
The spectators who had been dancing and shaking their shoulders in the distance pulled their souls back and looked over.
Amid the shattered platform, Ling Li lay sprawled face-down in a collapsed crater, his clothes having been ground into tatters by the friction.
Tap.
Ye Xingchen crouched down,