The force pressed down on his shoulders. It was not heavy, yet it weighed terribly on him, like a great hand clamping down on his very lifeline. Ma Hongjun knelt beside him, his plump face deathly pale, both hands braced against the ground as he shook like grain in a sieve.
Oscar knelt at the very back, his forehead pressed against the stone slabs, not daring to lift it.
Yu Tianheng and Yu Tianxin knelt together, shoulder to shoulder, like two turtles pinned down by their shells.
Tai Long knelt in a corner, still trying to thrust his fists outward, but after a few struggles, he too fell still.
Tang San remained half-kneeling where he stood, the Asura Demon Sword braced against the ground, the only thing keeping him from collapsing.
His knees had already sunk into the stone slabs, dull pain pulsing through his kneecaps, but he gritted his teeth and refused to let his other leg kneel too.
He raised his head and looked at Fang Fan, his eyes bloodshot, his lips trembling as though he wanted to say something.
But he could not get the words out. Because he saw Fang Fan smiling.
That smile was faint and light, like someone watching something whose ending he already knew.
With his hands behind his back, Fang Fan swept his gaze over Tang San, then over Dai Mubai, Ma Hongjun, Oscar, Yu Tianheng, Yu Tianxin, and Tai Long, who knelt scattered across the ground. Finally, his gaze settled on the dark red figure still struggling in midair.
He sighed softly, the sound carrying something of regret, and something of farewell.
"When you arrived, didn't you make all sorts of grand boasts?"
Fang Fan's voice was quiet, yet every word fell clearly into everyone's ears.
His gaze finally rested on