"What a cool transformation..."
In the spectator stands, Qin Zhong blurted it out without thinking.
The jet-black heavy armor, paired with hair that burned blood-red, made for a sight no one drawn to power and violence could easily resist.
But worry soon replaced the awe on his face.
"No... my junior brother's in danger."
Qin Zhong might not have understood the finer points, but Yan Kai's aura alone told him this was no opponent who could be overcome with technique alone.
Even in the Second Realm, Yan Kai would be a dominant force, one only a peerless prodigy could rival—let alone here on a First Realm arena.
Qin Zhong was far from the only one shaken by the sight. Everyone watching felt a jolt of alarm.
On the other side of the crowd, Lin Xuanshu, a true disciple of Maoshan, looked grave as still water. Behind his back, his hands had unconsciously closed around his Dharma Sword, wrapped in yellow talismans.
Can Fellow Daoist Li withstand what the Demon Founding Ancestor left behind? Lin Xuanshu silently asked himself.
Zhang Qichen of the Celestial Master Mansion narrowed his eyes. Lightning flickered faintly within them as his gaze settled on the patterns of Yan Kai's Demon Armor.
Little Tathagata Wuneng of Northern Shaolin pressed his palms together and began reciting an obscure Buddhist scripture.
Prodigies from the ancestral seats of the Three Teachings had deep foundations. Naturally, they had heard of the Demon Armor's fearsome reputation.
It was a supreme, baleful object born from the Demon Founding Ancestor's remains. Once fully fused and activated, it could forcibly raise its host's strength by more than half for a short time.
In the First Realm, where cultivation already pursued the utmost explosive power, a fifty-percent increase in overall strength was an outright unfair blow