"This young man wasn't a Martial Dao Grandmaster, but had cultivated the earthshaking Imperial-Grade True Qi?"
"So he was actually just a Xiantian Martial Artist?"
"A young Xiantian Martial Artist, yet I, a Martial Dao Grandmaster, treated him as an opponent and fought him here with all my strength for nearly an hour?"
Suddenly, shame surged through He Pingtian's heart, impossible to suppress.
Even the sword in his hand faltered.
He could no longer sustain his steadily mounting momentum; instead, it began to wane.
His cultivation had not weakened. His spirit had taken an unprecedented blow.
If his opponent had truly been a Martial Dao Grandmaster, that would have been one thing. They would have been fighting on the same level, and even a loss would not have shaken his spirit so badly.
No one in this world was absolutely invincible. Losing to an opponent of the same caliber was normal, and he could always win back his pride later.
But this opponent was a Xiantian Martial Artist who had not even condensed the spirit of the Spirit Transformation Realm.
How was He Pingtian supposed to bear that?
Such a fight was meaningless. Winning would be taken for granted; losing would wipe out decades of dignity in a single day, with no chance of recovering it.
Who the hell could accept that?
Forget accepting it. If word got out, he would become a laughingstock.
But now he understood something else.
This young man, this Xiantian Martial Artist named Lin Zishan, the chief of a mere upper-ranked stronghold, was a damned once-in-a-lifetime genius. Even across the Purple Moon Continent, he was a Peerless Prodigy rarely seen in a thousand years, without equal.
Within the Five Elements Absolute Prison, He Pingtian suddenly withdrew his sword.
He stood with his hands behind his