Zhang Yu sat within the formation and pondered. In the battle just now, whether Chen Baixiao or Yu Qingrong, the divine abilities and Dao arts they wielded had in truth already departed from the ordinary bounds of combat.
Chen Baixiao's method could be seen from the final intent he had left behind. It was an art that reversed life and death. Yu Qingrong's method, on the surface, was reflecting shadows into a painting, but in truth it was using qi to set the strokes and secretly arrange hidden mysteries.
The divine abilities and arts of the two shared one common trait: by relying on treasures that stabilized the Dao, they had risen to a higher level.
This meant that even if one could defeat these two in an ordinary battle, it did not necessarily mean one had truly won. They could still use transformations on a higher level to strike and suppress their opponent. If one lost the struggle on that level, everything gained beforehand would have to be returned.
It was like a cultivator who had yet to gain the ability to fly, who could only contend with others upon the ground. But if his opponent could flee through the air, coming and going as freely as he pleased, even leaping high to strike from afar, how could he possibly win?
Thus, once a cultivator relied upon a treasure that stabilized the Dao, one could no longer view combat on this level according to past notions of battle.
Nor was it necessary to rely upon a treasure that stabilized the Dao. Cultivators who had long ago plucked superior achievement-fruits, and whose cultivation came closer to the Upper Layer, might be able to display such might through their own power alone.
He had been fortunate enough to witness the divine