Hong Yi kept coughing up bloody mist mixed with countless fragments of internal organs. His body flew backward like a kite with its string cut. His eyes were dim, and he seemed somewhat despairing.
"Too strong..."
Bitterness filled his heart. Looking back on his life, he had roamed the world and faced countless formidable enemies, yet he had never experienced such despair. To him, the figure before him was like a Demon God.
He could not summon even the slightest will to resist. This time, he sensed the breath of death. This unprecedented danger left him utterly powerless.
But at that moment, it seemed as though heaven and earth were unwilling to accept Hong Yi's defeat. An incomparably pure force of origin invisibly flowed into his body, and in the next instant, Hong Yi cast off his weakness and returned to his peak condition.
"Lord Buu, we can discuss this. I can give you the I Ching, but you must leave this plane."
Although he had recovered to his peak condition, Hong Yi did not immediately launch a counterattack. He knew perfectly well that even with the plane's origin power aiding him—
He still had no chance of defeating the terrifying fellow before him. Their previous exchanges had already made him keenly aware of the immense gap between them.
Tomb of the Various Philosophers, Resurrection of the Philosophers' Souls?
A wise man submits to circumstances. Although he possessed the pride of a supreme powerhouse, he also understood that if they continued fighting like this, not only would he perish here, but this entire world might collapse under the strain of their immense power.
When that happened, it would not just be him who was destroyed, but the countless living beings of the entire Yang God Great World.
If it were