It could even be called the indifference of someone looking down on everyone. That condescension was not deliberate, but something unconsciously exuded after years in a position of superiority, though he concealed it well.
Zhao Feng did not mind. Hidden sects were full of capable people, so he was not surprised.
He took out a True Origin Pill, swallowed it, and continued regulating his breathing.
He could expect the difficulty to rise sharply again on the eighth floor. Even with his strength, he would have to give it his all. He needed to be in peak condition.
An incense stick's worth of time later, he finished recuperating and stood up. After glancing at Zhang Fan, who was still regulating his breathing, he decisively stepped onto the magic formation.
Only after his figure vanished did Zhang Fan slowly open his eyes, which had been closed all this time. He gazed thoughtfully in the direction where Zhao Feng had disappeared.
Zhao Feng appeared on the eighth floor and had only just found his footing. Before he could adjust to the heaven and earth pressure here, which had abruptly more than doubled again,
two phantom warriors formed opposite him.
In a flash, they were already attacking right in front of him!
Whoosh!
Two streaks of sword light slashed toward the two men in the blink of an eye!
Neither their speed nor their lethality could be compared to that of the opponents on the previous seven floors.
Clang, hiss! Clatter!
In a moment of extreme peril, Zhao Feng swung the Barbarian God Saber, sweeping out a Flow-Cutting Slash with not an instant to spare.
A thunderous boom rang out.
One of the two phantom warriors raised his sword to block the Flow-Cutting Slash, while the other almost simultaneously unleashed sword qi in a