Du Busi's voice carried the exhilaration of something that had been hammered and tempered for far too many years before finally breaking free of its shell. Hoarse yet clear, he sounded like an old blacksmith seeing the iron billet he had forged all his life finally take on its finest temper. "You old bastard... you really are still just a little stronger than me."
Mu En withdrew his hand, flexed his knuckles slightly, and looked up at Du Busi. His aged eyes shone with the vigor fully awakened by this all-out clash. "Aren't you the same?"
Du Busi said nothing.
He stood where he was, his back slightly bowed, like a fully drawn bow that had yet to completely release its tension. Yet his breathing steadily calmed at a visible pace, while the Soul Power fluctuations around him contracted and condensed with extraordinary regularity, gathering deep within his dantian.
Tang Wulin stood at the edge of the clearing and sensed the change in the air.
The energy aftershocks that had been crashing and surging between the two of them were being drawn by something, slowly gathering toward Du Busi like a stretched thread being wound back onto its spool.
His gaze settled on Du Busi, and he saw an incredibly subtle change in the glow of the three Hundred Thousand Year Soul Rings beneath his feet, one so faint it was nearly impossible to catch with the naked eye.
The red grew deeper and heavier, like wine that had settled for years in the depths, while an exceedingly faint dark-golden halo began to appear around the edges.
Du Busi's body suddenly tensed, then completely relaxed.
He let out a long breath of turbid air. In the cold night, it condensed into a dense cloud of white mist that drifted upward