The same question, the same tone, even the same person. But Kui Bing's mood was completely different!
His pupils contracted, and cold sweat gradually broke out across his back.
He heard Shen Fan's question.
The voice was calm.
So calm that the blood in his entire body began to turn cold.
The air stopped moving.
The wind, their breathing, their heartbeats—all sound disappeared.
An invisible, intangible weight pressed in from every direction.
Kui Bing felt an unseen giant hand gripping him, making his bones groan under the unbearable strain.
Though agony wracked him, Kui Bing gritted his teeth and made no sound.
The Spiritual Power inside him surged wildly. Blue, freezing air burst around him as he tried to resist the omnipresent pressure.
Yet his resistance was like a pebble tossed into the sea.
It raised not the slightest ripple.
Crack.
His kneecaps shattered.
The agony forced a muffled groan from him, and his whole body pitched forward against his will.
His cheek slammed hard against the scorching, solid ground.
Humiliation.
The endless humiliation drove him mad even more than the physical pain.
He struggled, trying to raise his head.
He was Kui Bing.
The Divine Son of the main branch of the Water Origin Spirit Race.
How could he lie on the ground like a dead dog?
But the pressure was unimaginably heavy, crushing every bit of his dignity and pride to dust.
He used all his strength and could raise his cheek only an inch.
He saw Shen Fan's feet.
Those battle boots, smudged with a little dust, were right before his eyes.
This overwhelming pressure.
Kui Bing's mind went blank.
He had felt the might of the Elders in his clan. He had even been fortunate enough to sense, from afar, a wisp of aura occasionally leaking