Compared to Feng Zihao's tens of thousands of years of cultivation, Ye Wudi's power was undoubtedly far more shallow. It could even be said that they were not on the same level at all.
Yet Ye Wudi had been able to exchange blows with Feng Zihao. It was perfectly normal for him to be at a disadvantage.
Feng Zihao had few rivals among his peers, yet he had been unable to do anything to Ye Wudi. That in itself was the issue.
However, compared to Feng Zihao, Ye Wudi's greatest advantage was that he had cultivated for a far shorter time, so he had enormous room to improve. In just this short time, it was clear to see that Feng Zihao had made no progress, while Ye Wudi was continuously growing stronger, his strength increasing bit by bit. This was the tide-turning momentum.
Now, only these two sides had yet to decide a victor. But soon, the first battle to end was the one between Yuan Hong and the Kun Peng. Both were peerless ferocious beasts; once they fought, heaven collapsed and earth split apart.
But in the end, Yuan Hong proved slightly superior. The Kun Peng's innate bloodline was immensely powerful, but in terms of age, he was not even a fraction as old as Yuan Hong, and their experience was worlds apart.
The fact that he had endured until now had already astonished many people. Yuan Hong in particular looked grim. Facing the descendant of the descendant of his own junior, he had only managed to defeat him by a single move.
Though it was not his true body, it was still shameful enough. At least, Yuan Hong felt that way. He had only won by one move; if they had fought to the death, the outcome would