Despite Su Mei's softly uttered words, the sense of hearing of each cultivator present was beyond the word 'extraordinary'. They heard every syllable, every emotion that hung on each letter, causing Shui Fengbao, the Child of Fire, to narrow his smoldering gaze with a firm resolution of blazing spirit. At the same time, the old-timer, Tuo Bihan, softly breathed a sigh of raw tension. The playfulness in him was eradicated, leaving behind a cultivator whose life was built in the trenches and then rebuilt through untold struggles and benevolent grace.
Yao Houyi subtly touched three fingers together, emulating the plucking of an arrow shape. The air and mana around him grew faint, gathering at his fingertips. The faint shape of a hazy arrow emerged.
