The wind blew across Red Ridge.
Thousands of tree tips swayed with the wind, forming cascading waves, a vast and crimson tide that spread and rippled.
Only a conspicuous scar stood out, like a reef rising from the water.
Within dozens of paces, the earth was barren, not a blade of grass grew.
A long saber had been thrust into the soil, slanted and standing tall, with yellow smoke drifting along the blade's edge, like a strip of brown-yellow silk ribbon.
The Flame Tiger had collapsed.
The White Ape and the Golden Eyed Bear remained.
After a long while.
He hoisted the Dragon Pillar again.
The suffocating sensation of drowning suddenly dispersed.
Zhu Zongwang retreated three steps, his pores all over his body opened up, and he sweated profusely, drenching his back.
"What's this move called?"
"Kill the Flood Dragon."
"Kill the Flood Dragon, Kill the Flood Dragon..."
He repeated the name silently twice.
Then, he turned around and drew his saber.