He... Actually Hadn't Used His Full Strength!

Shen Yun stood towering and unmoving, his black hair lifting lightly in the wind, vast and majestic like an undying god.

With only his blood energy circulating, he drew the celestial phenomena into change. The dark clouds for ten thousand miles scattered with the momentum, and the firmament once again revealed a bright, clear sky.

"He, how could he be powerful to such a degree?"

The White Tiger Envoy's voice trembled. Meeting that gaze looking down from above, he felt as if he were facing an Immortal Venerable above the nine heavens. And he himself was nothing but an ant crawling in the dust; even looking up seemed like an overstep.

Slaying a Half-Immortal with a single strike—what terrifying battle power was this?

Looking across the long river of history, those who could achieve such a battle record were as rare as phoenix feathers and qilin horns, and without exception, they were all supreme existences of the Mahayana Realm.

Only at this moment did the many spectators wake as if from a dream, their gazes gathering at the center of the battlefield.

"Jin Haoyang... just died like that?"

The scalps of the several immortal sect masters went numb. Witnessing this horrifying scene, they could not help but feel a chill rise in their hearts.

Their cultivation was far inferior to Jin Haoyang's, yet the latter had both body and soul destroyed under Shen Yun's single strike. If it had been them, how could there have been even the slightest chance of survival?

The assembled Demon Race giants were even more terrified. They practically used every ounce of strength they had sucked from their mothers' milk to forcibly halt their charge, sparks scraping out beneath their feet.

"It's over. This time, it's completely over!"

The Golden Peng Patriarch's face was