Now it was indeed aimed at this enemy.
A power absolutely unrivaled in this entire Martial Competition, or even in the ten years before and after it, appeared upon the arena. She held a flood dragon captive in her hand.
No one had imagined that the desperate strike which had just brought countless spectators to their feet in cries of astonishment was still not the woman's ultimate attack.
That should clearly have been the final eruption, the last trump cards both sides revealed, so why could this long-wounded, exhausted body still stack another layer?!
A single layer made a qualitative difference. The power accumulated within the saber horrified everyone who saw it. Unable to restrain itself any longer, it was about to use her entire frame of muscle and bone as a lever and pour forth in a raging torrent!
The woman hurtled toward Shang Huaitong, her movements disordered and swift. Her body was full of openings, but ahead of those openings was a heavy saber powerful enough to smash everything apart first.
From Shang Huaitong's perspective, a mountain was toppling toward him.
And all he held was a fragment of sword he had just plucked from the explosion.
At this moment, even if he resolved to unleash [Seven Fires, Life Unbound], how could he possibly withstand such a strike?
Yet Shang Huaitong gently raised that sword fragment, his expression becoming utterly calm.
He watched the saber almost indifferently, as though his shock and fury moments before had been nothing but a fleeting illusion in the spectators' eyes.
Zhang Junxue bore down upon him from the air, her shadow completely enveloping the man, her hair flying and brows flared, like a grievously wounded tiger, a leopard robbed of its cubs.
Then she heard a word softly leave the mouth of