No one had a word to waste as they looked at the sixteen remaining Dragon-Phoenix Platforms.
No fool had made it this far. Everyone knew words were useless now. Strength alone would decide who stayed and who left.
Xuan Yuan, the Netherworld Prince, and the other elite figures ranked high on the Dragon-Phoenix Record each descended upon a platform with calm, unhurried ease, as though places in the final sixteen had been reserved for them all along.
The slightly weaker contenders could only watch the best positions fall to those top prodigies, however unwilling they felt.
Lin Ming moved as well, appearing on a Dragon-Phoenix Platform.
He stood at its center with his hands behind his back, calmly surveyed the figures still hesitating in the sky, then cupped his fists toward them. His voice reached every ear, clear and even.
"Would any of you care to test me?"
Among the dozen or so figures standing in the air, a few exchanged wary glances. Not one dared make the first move.
The sight of Lin Ming killing Mo Fan with a single palm strike was still fresh in their minds. Even now, the memory of the Dark Demon Dharma Body bursting into black motes of light sent chills down their spines.
None wanted to end up like Mo Fan, crushed by one strike before they even understood what had happened.
Zi Yan then asked the same question.
No one dared accept a challenge from the purple-haired woman who had injured even Xuan Yuan in a single move.
Xuan Yuan was a legend at the top of the Dragon-Phoenix Record, widely acknowledged as the strongest of the Northern Domain's younger generation. If Zi Yan's single finger strike had drawn blood from his lips, challenging her would be suicide for the rest of