The Power

A fingertip like a towering mountain pressed down. Its surface was etched with clear lines, as if crafted by Heaven itself. It had not even touched Yehuai yet, but the mere downward pressure made the ancient city instinctively tremble.

The protective formations crumbled, and great stretches of the city walls collapsed. Nearby animals and insects either quivered in place, too terrified to move, or scattered like mad, letting out desperate howls.

The waters of the moat churned without cease, as if they had been set to boil.

A bird happened to fly past. Its body stiffened, then was crushed bit by bit into dust.

Inside Yehuai City, everyone stopped whatever they were doing and looked up at the ever-approaching "mountain." Rare confusion appeared on their faces.

The next instant, that confusion erupted, giving way to panic, fear, despair, madness, and every manner of emotion.

Yang Qingmu hovered silently in the air, watching everything before him. His expression remained utterly calm, without the slightest change. His attention stayed fixed on that mass of gray mist.

At last, the suspected Dream Star Sect expert made a move. Just like Yang Qingmu, he struck at Heaven from the earth, raising a finger to meet the blow.

It was a deliberate contest, an undisguised test of strength.

The sky rapidly darkened, as if thick black clouds were racing in to cover Yehuai City.

The people who had been drawn by the commotion and were watching from the shadows could no longer see what was happening. Their view was blocked, and they could not make out the final result of the clash.

Of course, none of that could interfere with the two men's senses. Yang Qingmu's eyes shifted slightly, then lit up.

His eyes truly began to shine, like two green suns. With the aid