When the violet-robed woman descended into full view, unhindered by the masses, the breaths of those beneath the Mystic Ascendant Realm, be it male or female, were held in their chest. Stunned—their hearts beating wildly. Astonished—the throat of men felt dry, gulping saliva after saliva. Heated—the gazes of all men, Ascended or otherwise, burned with ardent, instinctive desire.
Some of their pants felt a little tighter, others less so. Regardless of their endowed features or lack thereof, the raging heat beneath their navel was kindled by the visual feast before them.
"Wh-who's that?!" Zhang Yang breathily stuttered out. His fingers rubbed against his sweaty palms as he opened his eyes just a little wider to get a better view. There were many like him uttering this question, immensely shaken by the violet-robed woman's appearance and aura.
