Zhong Shanli's foot was still frozen in midair.
Li Zhengyang stood up.
The oppressive aura around them had completely receded, and the air resumed its normal flow.
Yet the chill in Zhong Shanli's heart had not faded in the slightest.
Third-Rank Martial Sovereign.
He had spent more than a decade at this realm, cultivating day and night before barely touching the threshold of Fourth-Rank Martial Artist.
How long had this kid been sitting there?
Half an incense stick?
Zhong Shanli swallowed, lowered his foot, and forced himself not to dwell on that question.
Li Zhengyang rolled his neck, producing several sharp cracks from his joints. He lowered his head, glanced at his palm, and clenched his fist.
The 43 billion had been well spent.
He raised his head and looked toward the edge of the shield in the distance.
Andrew lay sprawled on the ground, foaming at the mouth, completely unconscious.
Ivan was in slightly better shape. He knelt on one knee, the veins on his forehead still throbbing as rough breaths came from his mouth.
Li Zhengyang watched the two of them quietly for a moment, then gave a wicked smile.
"Perfect."
He walked over, his tone relaxed and casual.
"I'll use you two to test a new move."
Hearing the footsteps, Ivan suddenly lifted his head.
He was a Martial Sovereign of the Northern Union. No matter how badly he had been suppressed, his combat instincts remained.
But the instant his eyes met Li Zhengyang's, every hair on his body stood on end.
Something was wrong.
This man's aura was wrong!
The sharp edge belonging to an Early Martial Sovereign had completely vanished. All that remained was a suffocating, abyssal gloom.
Li Zhengyang, standing before him now, was like a bottomless abyss. Even looking at him carried the