Only the residual low hum of the thunderclouds and the whimpering of the wind passing over the rock wall remained between heaven and earth.
Xiao Cheng put away his spear, and the dark purple divine patterns on his right arm slowly faded. He let out a deep, turbid breath, and the soul power within his body churned for a good long while before calming down; he lowered his head to glance at his slightly numb right arm, and could not help but gently move his fingers.
It is over. Xiao Cheng raised his head to look at the unconscious Xu Zizhao under the distant rock wall, his tone as calm as if he were recounting something completely ordinary.
Xu Zhiyuan, who had been standing in the distance watching the battle, saw the expression on his face undergo several violent changes. It went from initial complete confidence, to a slight frown in the middle, and finally to a face as dark as water as Xu Zizhao was crushed by Xiao Cheng from start to finish.
And at the final moment when Xu Zizhao was struck by a World-Annihilating Tribulation Light that shattered his Martial Soul Avatar and caused him to lose consciousness, towering waves had surged in his heart, though not because of the reason for Xu Zizhao's defeat.
Could this be... that inherited soul bone lost by the ancestors?
Xu Zhiyuan did not move forward, instead standing in place like a petrified sculpture. Those old eyes that had seen through the vicissitudes of life stared fixedly at Xiao Cheng's right arm, the depths of his pupils churning with extremely complex emotions—shock, wild joy, greed, wariness, which ultimately all turned into a trace of cold scrutiny.
With his vision, he could naturally distinguish at a glance the difference between a soul