As his words fell, the little world of Lonely Peak Under the Night scattered away with a burst, like a dream bubble bursting.
Looking again, where were the lonely peak and immortal? There was only a tiny martial statue covered in cracks atop the Divine Palace, holding up a stone.
Chen Yang's string of maneuvers had seemed effortless, as though he had casually taken the two True Intent Cultivators of the Sun Clan in hand.
Yet from beginning to end, the entire process had concealed no small amount of danger.
When he had first tugged at the two men's divine consciousness, it had been the first time since arriving in this world that he had felt a force capable of wrestling against his own awareness.
The refined-looking man had later managed to slowly withdraw his divine consciousness, but it was not, as the old cultivator in white had claimed, because Chen Yang did not wish to engage them in a battle of techniques.
Chen Yang's initial plan had been to forcibly drag the two into this world, crush them with sheer force, and fill their hearts with awe.
But once he truly acted, the reality had differed greatly from his expectations.
With body and spirit united, and the divine consciousnesses of these two True Intent Cultivators not yet fully leaving their bodies, he simply could not pull them in.
At most, they could remain locked in a stalemate, with neither side gaining an advantage.
Precisely because force would not work, Chen Yang had adapted afterward, gradually easing his strength and leaving room for the taut situation to relax.
This had been his first time witnessing the power of True Intent Cultivators. No wonder they belonged to the Middle Three Realms—their strength truly could not be lumped together with the likes