"Tang~"
Zhao Luo's eyes widened as his sword was stopped by an invisible force.
"What?"
Zhao Luo shouted but his knees were forced to bend under the mysterious pressure that had suddenly appeared on him.
"It's like this pressure is shouting, 'bend your knees'."
Zhao Luo's knees bent but he pushed himself back instead of falling.
'Skwish.'
Zhao Luo stepped back while wobbling and skewered the stage with his swords.
His hands stayed on the flat end of the hilt as Zhao Luo used the flat end like his support.
'Tap.'
The Senior Elder jumped down towards Zhao Luo and tapped his shoulder.
'The pressure disappeared.'
The moment Zhao Luo felt the elder's hand on his shoulder, the pressure on him had disappeared.
Zhao Luo turned around and looked at Mo Rong.
'This bastard.'
