Old Liang's eyelids lifted. He set down the Beicang Great Cellar he'd just picked up, but didn't release it, keeping his hand wrapped around the bottle's neck.
Nanhuang Dojo?
Trying to steal someone from right under my nose?
A thread of killing intent circled in his heart. His aura sense shot out like lightning, locking onto the figure outside the door through the wall.
"What a terrifying aura!"
Ren You, standing in the long corridor, shuddered. It was as if a bolt of cold electricity had struck him. He felt like a prehistoric beast with slit pupils had fixed its gaze on him. A nameless dread seized him, as if he'd been exposed before a creature at the top of the food chain.
Fortunately, he was also a Professional Level Martial Artist, with a steadfast will that kept him from being shaken. His aura, too, surged outward.
Like a mass of searing magma, it suddenly flared and forcibly pushed aside the violent aura trying to seize him.
The air abruptly burst with a muffled boom, sending out visible ripples.
The two invisible forces were like bulls locking horns, neither willing to give an inch.
This is all the teacher's fault. He insisted I say something so outrageous, claiming that as a disciple of Nanhuang Dojo, I had to be arrogant and domineering.
Ren You secretly groaned. Of all the disciples, he was one of the few who had truly studied Old Martial Arts under his teacher.
But his talent was average. He'd barely reached Professional Level after turning thirty and had yet to earn the title of Martial Artist.
His aura was like billowing fiery clouds, imposing in its momentum but hollow within, not gathered into a single whole.
Against Old Liang's murderous aura, which coiled and constricted like a