"Kill!"
On Arena, two figures had already collided.
Song Xue's red long sword flashed like a streak of blood. Before its edge arrived, its Sword Intent had already struck.
That Sword Intent was biting cold like ten-thousand-year Mysterious Ice, yet blazing like magma from the earth's core.
The utterly opposing qualities of ice and fire had somehow fused perfectly within the same Sword Intent, transforming into a suffocating aura of slaughter.
Feng Yuan did not draw his sword.
Or rather, he had no need to draw it just yet.
He pressed his palms together, and a faint golden barrier emerged around him.
That barrier was not ordinary protective qi. It was formed from countless fine Buddhist mantras, each radiating an aura of peace and majesty.
Song Xue's sword struck the barrier with a crisp ring.
"Ding!!!"
The sound was not loud, but it was incredibly penetrating. Every cultivator present felt their eardrums tremble, while a stabbing pain rose from the depths of their Primordial Spirits.
Some covered their ears. Some turned pale. Those with weaker cultivation even spat out blood on the spot.
That was only because Arena had blocked ninety-nine percent of its power.
Otherwise, that single sound alone would have been enough to shake a vast number of cultivators to death.
That was why the weak rarely got to witness the battles of the strong.
Because people would die.
In a clash between experts, even the stray aftershocks produced unintentionally could kill masses of people.
Yet at this moment, no one retreated.
No one even blinked.
Because the confrontation on Arena had already reached a white-hot stage.
Song Xue's first sword had failed to break through the defense, but her second sword followed immediately after.
This sword was different.
A scarlet glow lit up along its blade.
Ye