A Full Hour

As a stylish man with a hesitant temperament, a man of peerless talent who had crushed the younger generation several eras ago and been hailed as the king of kings.

Throughout his life, he had never encountered an opponent in the same realm. For countless years, he had been the object of envy and jealousy, the model child from someone else's family.

At this moment, he was so furious he was beside himself, gritting his teeth until his neck bulged thick.

At last, he understood how all those trash he had always looked down on felt, because he, too, had fallen to become one of them.

This was infuriating.

What the hell was this?

Every step was difficult. He could only resist passively, getting hammered miserably.

Dao Fruits surrounded him on all sides, pummeling him from every direction.

Regret. Such regret.

Why had he shown up unequipped? Why hadn't he put on his battle armor?

Although putting it on would not have been of much use, it would at least have spared him from being beaten so badly that his heart bled.

The Jade Purity Dao Fruit's body shone. Above its head, the phantom banner of the Pangu Banner snapped in the wind, and in the span of a blink and a breath, it slashed out several thousand spatial blades.

Blade-light danced in a riot of colors, warped by folded space, descending layer upon layer.

The instant the middle-aged man was struck, his body blurred. Those light-blades were not slashes, but collapse—atomic-level pulverization of space itself. The Great Dao within touched upon many fields: the material layer, the energy layer, the soul layer. They sought to erase him from the root.

His body glowed as he fought back. He actually endured those strikes. Indestructible inscriptions flashed across his body, reconstructing