Zhao Cheng's Dharma body shuddered nonstop from the impact of that "pellet." Yet the trembling of his Dharma body was secondary; what mattered most was the tremor in his mind.
Though he was merely an incarnation born of a dream here, the strength of his mind was utterly real. There was no question of his mind regressing—only changing.
The mass-energy condensed from a mere thousand or so universes naturally amounted to little compared to his will, scarcely different from foam.
But in their current state, the mass-energy of those thousand universes had taken on an entirely different meaning.
The mysteries within it could be said to have exhausted every subtlety of the mind and will.
At the same time, just as Zhao Cheng's Dharma body became unstable, the other three joined forces and struck at Wang Daoming.
A saber, a sword, a fist.
Three people, three moves—yet they seemed to have come from the hands of a single person, perfectly harmonious and seamless.
Faced with this earth-shattering blow, Wang Daoming let out a long howl. The black-gold flames around him exploded countless tens of thousands of times in an instant, forcibly blasting apart the combined attack of the three great experts.
Yet that brief instant was enough for Zhao Cheng to stabilize his Dharma body and charge at Wang Daoming once more.
Taking advantage of his opponent's momentary obstruction, he seized upon the fleeting fluctuation in his aura after that eruption. In an instant, he wielded his sword like a rainbow, vast sword-light condensed into a single line, cleaving heaven and earth and crushing all things.
Wang Daoming's burst of power had been fierce, but strength could not endure forever. None of them had any so-called recovery time, and by all reason, their states should have remained eternally fixed at