Mu Chenhao lay motionless in the deep pit, grievously injured. In the end, someone helped him away.
Everyone's eyes converged on Xiao Yun. The arena fell silent, so quiet one could hear a pin drop—an eerie, terrifying stillness.
Though Xiao Yun had revealed only the tip of the iceberg of his strength, it was already exceedingly terrifying.
It left the cultivators of the Desolate Ancient Sacred Land without confidence.
After all, Xiao Yun had used only two moves so far. With merely two moves, he had defeated two Holy Sons of their Desolate Ancient Sacred Land—the second- and third-ranked Holy Sons.
Looking at it this way, even the first-ranked Holy Son would likely be no match for Xiao Yun.
"This guy is actually this powerful!" Within the crowd, Yang Wei's eyes were gloomy and his expression extremely unsightly. He had never expected Xiao Yun's strength to be so formidable.
Thinking about it now, Xiao Yun had clearly held back when fighting him earlier. Otherwise, one move would have been enough to kill him.
"Next!"
Just as the arena had fallen quiet, a voice suddenly rang out, carrying an invincible, domineering presence that swept across the entire venue.
Xiao Yun had spoken. His indifferent gaze swept over the older powerhouses of the Desolate Ancient Sacred Land on the high platform, his eyes revealing an air of looking down upon heaven and earth.
Everyone looked at Xiao Yun, their expressions incomparably grim.
This seemed less like a challenge and more like Xiao Yun had come to smash up the place.
In two consecutive matches, Xiao Yun had won with a single move, overwhelmingly powerful. The Desolate Ancient Sacred Land had lost too miserably.
If they kept losing like this, the Desolate Ancient Sacred Land would lose all its face.
On the high