Several elders' expressions shifted unpredictably, their hearts filled with dread and unease. Was this really Chu Ning, the nameless nobody they had always regarded him as? His presence was like a raging storm, impossible to withstand.
Within the hall, the air had congealed, and even breathing had grown heavy.
An almost imperceptible ripple swept across the room. Chu Ning's gaze was sharp as a blade as it slowly passed over the elders who wanted to speak but held their tongues. His eyes seemed capable of piercing through everything and seeing through every disguise.
"What? Is anyone still dissatisfied?"
He slowly drew the Rusty Saber at his waist. The blade was simple and ancient, showing no edge, yet it faintly exuded a tranquil killing intent.
The atmosphere in the martial arts hall instantly tightened, as though the slightest touch would unleash a bloody storm.
Several elders clenched their teeth before finally lowering their heads, not daring to speak again.
"Good." Chu Ning smiled faintly and slowly drove the Rusty Saber in his hand into the bluestone floor. The blade pierced the stone with a sonorous clang.
"Crack—"
A hideous fissure spread outward from the tip of the saber, like a venomous snake winding across the entire stretch of blue brick flooring.
The air seemed to freeze. In the deathly silence, all the disciples in the hall knelt prostrate on the ground, not daring even to breathe loudly. Zhou Lin, who had shouted the most fiercely earlier, was especially pale. Cold sweat soaked through his clothes, and his entire body trembled, as though even his knees were quivering uncontrollably.
Chu Ning calmly swept his gaze around. His eyes were like ice blades from the depths of winter, utterly devoid of warmth. He merely stood there without saying another word, yet he had