"How is he… able to do it?" Wenxi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched from the balcony of the villa.
Her eyes were wide with disbelief, fixed on the battlefield where Wang Xiao was holding his own against three Great-Grandmasters, despite restricting himself to Grandmaster-level strength.
Each of his clones, crafted from sand and controlled with pinpoint precision, moved with deadly grace, matching the overwhelming force of his opponents blow for blow.
Mini-earthquakes rippled across the battlefield, and the air seemed to tremble with his might.
Athene stood next on the balcony, her eyes calm and distant as she gazed at the battlefield below.
From the way she held herself—still, composed, her posture flawless—there was something about her that made the air itself seem colder, more controlled.
There was no trace of emotion on her face, not even a flicker of concern for the blood-soaked chaos beneath her.
