Yi Yun's voice still echoed above White Jade Phoenix Palace. By contrast, the many overlords and outstanding talents from the various factions of the Ancient Ruins Realm at the enthronement ceremony were as silent as a graveyard.
Kill anyone who stands in my way!
These simple words were often shouted in the world of martial artists, but never before had they carried such terrifying pressure as Yi Yun's voice did—as if an ancient beast from hundreds of millions of years ago had awakened from slumber and let out a low growl!
Even more unbelievable was that Yi Yun had only cultivated for a few hundred years.
Not only had nothing so bizarre ever happened in the Ancient Ruins Realm, but even in the long river of martial arts history, there had never been anything like it: a junior had sent the overlord of a major faction flying with a single palm strike!
"This Yi Yun... he's the same age as me? No... he's younger than me!" Mu Yun was utterly disheartened. As a prodigy of the younger generation in the Ancient Ruins Realm, although he was far inferior to Lin Xin Tong and slightly weaker than Fairy Youruo, he still had hopes of becoming an overlord-level figure in the future.
He thought highly of himself and had once been bitterly resentful that Saint Cliff Divine Lord had refused to give him a Divine King Seal. But now, compared with Yi Yun, he was nothing more than a useless log.
He glanced at Zhu Ningxue, only to see her lips twitching and her face deathly pale. Clearly, she had suffered an enormous blow as well. Earlier, she had indeed been jealous when Yi Yun casually gave away a Divine King Seal, but opportunities were ultimately external things. What martial artists valued