Arrogant people were often conceited, thinking highly of themselves and refusing to believe the other party could truly be stronger than them.
Geng Pomo thought exactly this way. The reality was laid out before him, yet his urgency and agitation made it impossible for him to accept.
Thus, the Nine Seizing Eagles in his hands gained several more shades of fierce, tyrannical killing intent, desperate to tear Meng Zhao to pieces.
His moves did not change much, but the force behind them grew heavier.
However, his true strength was what it was. He was no protagonist, and without any sudden burst of power, he was merely wasting his own true qi.
It did little to help the battle. Instead, having lost his composure, his moves and their intent could no longer meld seamlessly, and he was suppressed once more.
Several times, he even deliberately relied on the advantages of his hard-body arts to offset the advantage of Meng Zhao's claw techniques.
On the other side, Meng Zhao had genuinely been enjoying himself at first—at least in terms of technique.
The claw technique he used, along with its method of channeling force and drawing in qi, came from what Ji Rushuang had obtained in that Mysterious Valley. Thus, it could gather icy-cold qi. Coupled with his own vast, sea-like power, he would have had no trouble facing anyone in the Innate Realm.
As for the artistic conception behind his moves, it was drawn from the very essence of his own Martial Dao.
There was no need to mention his techniques. He knew well over a hundred martial arts. Though not that many were exceptionally powerful, their sheer breadth, combined with the Sky-Illuminating Mirror's deductions, had allowed him to accumulate an ocean of foundations. He had dabbled in countless strange and ingenious