On Duanhun Ridge, the ground is littered with scorched stones amidst lingering heat.
Standing with hands behind his back on the ridge, Chen Sheng's white robes flutter gently in the residual Sword Gang wind as he meticulously senses the heavenly intent of this realm, the surrounding faint Sword Momentum lending an edge to the air.
At the same time, three sounds of air being pierced resounded, and in the blink of an eye, three figures landed nearby, none other than the three prodigies who had been observing the battle.
Li Yan approached first, the flame patterns on his red robe glimmering slightly with excitement. He put away his usual arrogance, bowed with folded hands to Chen Sheng, speaking sonorously like a bell:
"Li Yan of the Heaven-Burning Palace pays respect to Brother Zhang! Witnessing Brother Zhang's sword strike to behead the Nascent Soul just now, such exquisite Swordsmanship is the finest Li has ever seen in this life."
