Old Chen leaped more than ten meters in a single bound, leaving an afterimage where he had stood. He was simply too fast; many people had not even reacted.
The gaunt middle-aged man was undoubtedly an extraordinary expert. Before the eyes of the others could follow Old Chen's figure, he had already struck.
A sheet of crimson radiance swept from his hand, slashing at Old Chen's neck. A red sun seemed to rise from where he stood before exploding, intent on drowning his opponent.
Old Chen did not pause in the slightest. He thrust a palm at the crimson radiance. With a boom, the sound of Feng Lei erupted. It was as though thunder had exploded on the spot, deafening everyone as sand and stones flew.
Many people's hearts pounded wildly. If this went on, could Old Chen truly unleash lightning? If Old Arts reached that level, it would have carried a certain significance even in ancient times.
Amid a dull roar, as though heavenly lightning had struck some demon, the crimson radiance on the scene shattered, turning into dark red bloody light that scattered in all directions and exploded outright.
Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!
A vast rain of red light poured down. Some sank into the frozen earth, while much of it struck the Pamir Plateau's distinctive brown rocks. Amid cracking sounds, the hard stones either shattered or were pierced through by the crimson radiance, full of holes.
Everyone's expressions changed. Even the scattered droplets of light possessed such power—just how strong had that streak of crimson light been?
No wonder this man had been so arrogant earlier, disregarding all other Old Arts experts except Old Chen. His display now was indeed enough to make one's heart tremble.
It could only be said that Old Chen was too strong. One