Crack... crack... crack.
Crisp cracks rang out one after another. The void before Ye Lin kept splitting with sharp sounds, fissures appearing one after another. In the end, the entire world came crashing down.
The scene before Ye Lin changed dramatically. The next moment, he was once again above the sea of clouds.
At this moment, Ye Lin radiated an incomparably violent aura, and his eyes were filled with savage brutality.
"Not bad."
At last, Yan Batian gave Ye Lin a proper look.
A mid-stage True Immortal cultivator had actually withstood his Heavenly Punishment, Second Form. Not bad.
Only such a prodigy counted as a prodigy—a true prodigy.
At that moment, he seemed to see his former self in Ye Lin: arrogant, conceited, and disdainful of all beneath heaven.
"Only not bad?"
Ye Lin looked at Yan Batian and smiled faintly. What a poser.
Ye Lin's aura was in disarray. Those few moves just now had also drained him considerably.
Even if his immortal power replenished itself without end, it still required time. Under ordinary circumstances, he might have already consumed eighty percent of his immortal power by now.
Supreme arts could only be used without restraint by Great Luo Profound Immortal cultivators. For True Immortal cultivators, the consumption of immortal power simply could not keep up.
"Merely not bad. If you want me to truly take you seriously, this is still not enough."
Yan Batian smiled faintly. Although Ye Lin still being able to stand before him surprised him greatly, he had not gotten serious yet.
Still, for someone at the mid-stage True Immortal realm to achieve this much was quite good.
"Hahaha, then let's go again."
Ye Lin laughed loudly, clenched his right fist, and vanished instantly, charging fiercely toward Yan Batian.
"Saint-Falling Fist."
Although his Sacred Body