Shi Jiawen appeared far calmer. First, he still had his Trump Card yet unused; second, he did not believe Meng Zhao would lose.
It had been said before that he was both arrogant and insecure, his nature paranoid, obstinate, and nearly possessed.
It was precisely because of this that, while Meng Zhao had left an invincible impression deep within his heart, he had also become an obsession.
In his eyes, Meng Zhao might not be omnipotent, but he was certainly not someone who could be defeated so easily.
At this moment, although an incomparably mysterious and powerful martial artist was lurking in the shadows, even borrowing Lei Wanche's body to fight Meng Zhao, victory and defeat remained unknown, and the outcome unforeseeable.
Still, though the three men had different thoughts, they shared one understanding: the final victor would become the target of their attentions. By "target," they did not mean going to war with him, but directing a series of overtures and flattery toward him.
The purpose was simple: to stay alive.
The time had not yet come, and another mishap had occurred with Lei Wanche. No one knew whether the Grotto-Heaven Secret Key would still work, which was why the three of them had considered this.
High in the heavens, tens of thousands of miles above, fierce astral winds surged. Within the vast sea of thunder, a giant stirred and churned with both hands, creating streams and waves that triggered countless thunderstorms and gave birth to thunderbolts.
His endurance seemed endless. It was as though he could continue like this until heaven and earth grew old, until the seas ran dry and stones crumbled, without ever stopping.
Meng Zhao was different. Apart from evading at the beginning, he had gradually adapted to the environment within this sea of thunder.