The secret technique had greatly strengthened Xiao Yan, but even with his power surging so sharply, the gap between him and Ling Fengzhui—whose aura was still climbing wildly—remained vanishingly small. Continuing to fight like this would not decide the victor.
And if the Dou Technique Xiao Yan was about to unleash was to bring their fight to the death to an end, he needed more time and more Dou Qi to prepare it.
Seeing that Xiao Yan made no move to attack first, Ling Fengzhui called out across the distance. "Xiao Yan, four years! In just four years, you've progressed beyond anything I imagined."
"I have your Spirit Clan to thank for that," Xiao Yan replied grimly.
"Hahaha! Then it seems that fool Ling Zhuo really did make a formidable enemy for the Spirit Clan."
Ling Fengzhui raised his right hand and pointed his blade at Xiao Yan from afar. "But dwelling on the past would take too long. This next strike is the culmination of more than ten years of my effort. It's also the strongest blow I believe I can deliver."
"If you die by this blade, Xiao Yan, you won't have lost out."
"I have no interest in that move of yours. But your life—I must take that too!" Xiao Yan's voice was cold. At this point, he could no longer let Ling Fengzhui leave, though he had to admit that Ling Fengzhui had put him under immense pressure.
"Good. Then let's see whether my blade is sharper or your Heavenly Flames are stronger," Ling Fengzhui said.
Ling Fengzhui lifted his blade high with both hands. Power from the Ink Shadow continued to pour into it, making the force gathering along its edge surge. At the tip, a point of pure ink-black light condensed. Space before it