Above the black stone tablet, the sparks in the seventh bronze lamp dissipated after flashing for a while. This situation clearly showed that they had failed to ignite it, but Ink Blade still remained calm and did not feel dismayed. He slowly retracted his palm, the golden Phoenix feather on his arm gradually disappearing.
His previous blow seemed to have been too casual, but he knew that it had contained all of his physical strength. Behind him, Zong Teng looked at this scene, his face steely.
When he clashed with Ink Blade, they had fought each other to a standstill, but now, when it came to pure physical strength, he was slightly inferior. Although this did not mean that Ink Blade's real fighting capacity was stronger than him, Zong Teng, who was an arrogant person, still felt uncomfortable.
