Everyone looked at the dead Jing Chengliang. There was little pain or grief on their faces; what filled them instead was astonishment and confusion.
This outcome had come too quickly, too impossibly to accept. They had not even had time to grieve.
A Literary Ancestor had simply kept falling in Literary Rank, then died?
They could not believe the ending before their eyes.
Could this be the true might of a Void Sage?
There had been no prolonged, grueling battle, no earth-shaking spectacle, no terrifying phenomenon. In barely a hundred breaths, a dignified Literary Ancestor had met such an end through a single lapse, reduced to a dried corpse.
Everyone slowly turned to Fang Yun. Was he an exception, or had the scholars of the Saint Origin Continent all become this powerful?
To this point, Fang Yun had not shown the slightest sign of strain.
Whether Jing Chengxi or the other three Literary Ancestors whom Fang Yun had not particularly targeted, all had sweated earlier from expending vast amounts of Literary Qi in such a short time.
Fang Yun had not.
Not a single drop of sweat had appeared on Fang Yun so far. Though he had gone through a battle, he remained as clean as a man fresh from a bath—not only in body and clothes, but in spirit as well.
In other words, Fang Yun had yet to use his full strength. He was still concealing power.
A Fourth Realm Great Scholar actually wielded nearly complete Sacred Way power. Though its total amount was small, it was bizarre and powerful. How could this battle continue?
"Worthy younger brother..." Jing Chengxi stretched out a hand and lifted Jing Chengliang's corpse from the back of the immortal crane.
It was less than four feet long, like an infant.
Suddenly, Jing