If that sword fell, it could blast Ye Lin to pieces.
"Break."
At the center of it all, Ye Lin finally worked out the formation after a few seconds. The formation itself was not especially strong; Li Feng had poured much of his power into the giant sword in the sky.
That left the formation trapping Ye Lin relatively weak. Or perhaps Li Feng was simply too weak to bring out the full power of the immortal art.
Golden light blazed from Ye Lin like a god or devil. His hair flew wildly as an incomparable force erupted from him, reducing the chains that bound him to rubble.
"Saint-Falling Fist."
Immortal Qi drained rapidly from Ye Lin's body as strands of fist intent coiled around his right arm. He stamped hard on the Arena and shot forward like a cannonball, driving a punch toward one of the Li Fengs.
It all happened in a flash of lightning. To everyone else, Ye Lin had broken free and thrown a punch at Li Feng in the blink of an eye.
Ye Lin had no intention of meeting the light sword in the sky head-on. Li Feng was, after all, a talented Earth Immortal at the middle stage. Ye Lin was still somewhat wary of a strike Li Feng had spent so long gathering power for.
He had not grown so strong that he could look down on everyone.
"Hm? A clone?"
Ye Lin was not particularly surprised when his punch scattered that Li Feng. He turned and rushed toward the other clones.
Watching the light sword slam into the Arena and make the entire platform shudder, panic flashed through Li Feng's eyes. The Nine-Level Sword Formation was meant to trap first and strike second.
Once its target broke free, the strike became