Latham's tone was icy, and the spiritual pressure erupting from his body split the air with violent ripples. Cyan wind-attributed spiritual energy surged outward like a raging storm, shredding the air into countless sonic booms that echoed across the battlefield.
Carlos Vernal narrowed his eyes, the corners of his lips curling into a contemptuous sneer.
"Hmph. Talker Latham of Myriad Treasure Pavilion, you really have something."
His cold voice dropped into a deeper register.
"Then let me meet you today."
With a resonant hum, frost crawled across the ground beneath Carlos's feet. His ice spiritual energy soared to its peak, condensing into biting winds that twisted the temperature around them.
His cultivation surged upward—late stage of the Intermediate Supreme Realm, a half-step away from touching the Peak Intermediate Supreme.
Latham didn't retreat. He met Carlos's gaze head-on.
