Thud!
The spear slammed into Xie Anshou with tremendous force. Like a burst flood breaking through a dam, it instantly shattered the defensive shield around him and pierced straight through.
"Ah!"
Xie Anshou let out a terrible scream. It was as if the spear had torn a bloody hole through his body, and his very soul was being ripped apart, devoured by countless demons.
He flew backward, skidding hundreds of meters along the ground and carving out a trench as shattered stones scattered everywhere. At last, he crashed into a wall around the arena, smashing a huge hole in it.
"Pfft!" Xie Anshou couldn't help spewing out a mouthful of blood, staining the ground. His face twisted in agony, and he seemed to be on the verge of madness.
Even now, he couldn't believe it. He had lost—he had actually lost this time, and to a junior who was only a seventh-stage Martial Master.
Xia Ping stood quietly on the ground, holding the Spear of Hell and looking down at him. He silently savored the spear's power. Since reaching the seventh stage of the Martial Master realm, he seemed to have gained ever more perfect control over it.
When he poured his true essence into it, it felt as though his soul merged with the treasure, reaching the state of unity between man and weapon.
He even sensed that deep within the Spear of Hell lay an unparalleled martial art from the depths of Hell. If he kept mastering the spear, perhaps he could bring that martial art to life and fully master it.
"Xia Ping!"
Xie Anshou roared, overwhelmed by a flood of humiliation. He was a mighty ninth-stage Martial Master, yet a junior had defeated him with a single thrust, piercing his body like a chicken.
This was