The deep sea at midnight was pitch black, with gathering clouds in the sky; the aura of Pang Feng and Wei Mo alternately climbed, a battle between them imminent.
Wei Mo wore a look of cold arrogance, dismissive of the scattering clouds above his head. He looked at Pang Feng with cold eyes and said, "With your level of cultivation, you are not worth my effort. However, since you seem so discontented, I will trouble myself to let you witness what a true master is!"
Wei Mo's confidence was boundless; his faith in his own strength was absolute. Indeed, with his level of cultivation, there were very few in Huaxia who could match him; he had every right to be proud.
He regarded Pang Feng, a mere youngster in his early twenties. For someone of such an age to have reached the Profound Mystery would already make him a genius among geniuses, yet he dared to contest Wei Mo; how could there be a chance of victory?
