The old man felt the stifling frustration of having built up momentum for so long, only for his punch to strike empty air.
Then a new question surfaced.
Had the White Dragon already suffered a devastating blow from humanity's fortune? Was she busy forcibly suppressing her injuries and pretending nothing had happened? After all, Quasi-Saints had acting skills honed to perfection. She might look unruffled on the surface while in truth her oil had run dry and her lamp was nearly extinguished.
The affairs of the Cultivation World could not be seen clearly with one's eyes.
So here came the new question: if the White Dragon had just shown signs of injury, what should they have done? Believe that she had truly been severely wounded, or assume she was only feigning weakness?
There was no use dwelling on it.
Unless a Dao Competition reached its final moment, the truth could never be known.
By now, the heavily sentenced criminals were nearly done slaughtering the evil demons. The Daoist sects, Ancient Desolate Beasts, and Phoenix Clan still wanted more. They had not expected the battle to be easier than imagined, and they could also sense the Favor of the Heavenly Dao supporting them in the unseen.
Bai Yujun, carrying her dragon spear, rubbed her forehead with her left hand.
Little Phoenix tilted her head at Bai Yujun. Her Phoenix Eyes saw the vast fortune above Bai Yujun's head being eroded. Things were not as easy as they appeared. Struggles over fortune were perilous and unpredictable; gambling for fortune was like gambling with one's life. One careless step could leave hidden trouble behind, damage one's destiny, and cause one to lose one's Dao Path and life without ever realizing it.
The old man hiding in the shadows did not dare observe closely,