Li Ping'an and Wen Tao stood on opposite sides.
"Brother Li, what level would you like me to suppress my rank to?"
"If I may ask, Brother Wen, what rank are you now?"
"A sixth-rank Martial Warrior!"
"Hiss-"
Zhou Youcai sucked in a breath of cold air and tugged at Li Ping'an.
"Brother Li, a sixth-rank Martial Warrior is no joke.
"My father said sixth-rank Martial Warriors could beat Qi Refining Practitioners of the same rank as easily as playing a game, unless they had a powerful magical treasure on them.
"Besides, these Martial Warriors are all a little sick in the head, more or less."
"It's fine."
Seeing Li Ping'an insist, Zhou Youcai could hardly say anything more.
His expression was full of worry. Please don't knock Brother Li's brains loose.
Li Ping'an said, "How about second rank?"
"No problem. But even if I suppress my strength to second rank, that doesn't mean an ordinary second-rank cultivator can stand against me."
Li Ping'an laid his Staff-Sword on the ground. They were sparring in martial arts.
Naturally, there was no need for the Fusang Saber.
"I understand."
"Then pardon me."
The aura around Wen Tao abruptly changed, and he stepped forward.
He sent a punch straight at him.
The punch was fast, fierce, and razor-sharp.
Martial Warriors were all about speed, precision, and ruthlessness.
One punch shattered ten thousand arts. They didn't bother with anything fancy.
There was a long-standing joke mocking how unreasonable Martial Warriors were.
Qi Refining Practitioner: "I have an art that can overturn rivers and seas."
Martial Warrior: "Take my punch."
Qi Refining Practitioner: "I have an art that can pluck the sun and moon from the sky."
Martial Warrior: "Take my punch."
Qi Refining Practitioner: "I have an art that lets me roam beyond time."