It was as if, in an instant, every insignificant noise had been erased.
The whole world fell silent.
Only two shrill, piercing sounds rose from the ground, like iron wires stabbing into eardrums, shaking every soul and consciousness.
One was like thunder exploding, flames burning, and storms howling—the manifestation of all destruction, the crystallization of that lament at the end.
The other was like all things crying out: the song of earth and stone, grass and dew, the interweaving roar of rain and tides.
At the very instant the duel began, both men drew their arrows without hesitation.
They pulled their bowstrings.
Praising the Wind of Impermanence that brought ruin, offering blood and bone as sacrifice, they called upon the mottled torrent wandering between the depths.
"Kan Goul Na Li Duo Lian, as you reveal yourself—"
Fenkuzhu opened his mouth and chanted the name belonging to the storm. The black arrow in his hand silently collapsed, becoming a dark tempest almost condensed into substance.
Destruction enough to turn fertile land into wasteland gathered there and burst from the string.
That gray-white line pierced an invisible vortex through the vast battlefield. The shifting air pressure and resulting vacuum collided, producing a tremendous boom like falling boulders.
Distorted light concealed the arrow's outline. All that could be seen was a tornado like a surging current!
Descending from the heavens!
Huai Shi also drew his bow. Under the dual cycle of the Lord of the Clouds and Great Siming, he seemed to turn the entire domain into a weapon and cast forth deadly steel!
The first arrow was silver.
There was no aiming and no buildup. By conventional standards, his posture was slack and loose, as though he had merely struck a casual pose.
In truth, even if he lay on the ground