In the sky on another side, Ning Feng and the others had also put aside their previous spectating attitude, alert by the strength displayed by Chu Ning and Qian Zhen.
Qian Zhen was the Saint Heir of the Jiuxiao Sacred Land, and a confrontation in the Upper Realms was inevitable in the future. The stronger Qian Zhen was, the less they wanted to see it.
And Chu Ning, coming from the Middle Realms—if he were to defeat Qian Zhen, that would be even less desirable, as it would mean that all the fortune from their trip to the Middle Realms would serve to elevate only Chu Ning.
"It seems this is your final trump card."
Qian Zhen's massive body issued another bone-cracking noise, and along with this sound, the bloodstains on his shoulders slowly faded until they were completely gone.
"I must tell you, even with these ten Flying Swords, you cannot harm my foundation."
