Despair!
Deep despair!
It rose from the hearts of the six men on the field, from the depths of the Han Court's feudal lords' hearts. If even this could not secure victory, how many men would it take to defeat Zhang Jue?
Zhao Yun found it hardest to accept, because he knew the most about martial arts.
A Daoist had once said that his martial prowess ranked firmly among the top three in All Under Heaven, and that once he began fighting for his life, even the strongest man in the world might be no match for him.
Yet however he looked at it, how could he possibly match Zhang Jue, even if he fought for his life?
He asked with deep feeling, "Zhang Julu, just who are you? How could someone like you appear in this world at a time like this? Why have you been able to grow so quickly?"
This was, in fact, what the other five were thinking too. They all possessed extraordinary martial talent. Lü Bu's existence was comprehensible, but Luo Xiao's was not. How could he stand at the very pinnacle of martial arts without passing through one life-and-death ordeal after another?
Had he been a Lord of War born in answer to destiny, like King Xiang, that would have been another matter. Such a being belonged to a realm beyond human imagination.
But when Zhang Jue had killed Yan Liang and Wen Chou, he had not even been able to kill them instantly. His progress in this brief span of time was far too obvious. There was only one word for such improvement: uncanny.
Luo Xiao recalled the countless fragments of starlight that had fallen when he shattered Great Han's Mandate of Heaven. That starlight had passed through his body before scattering across