Grass, a type of plant.
Wang Jixuan's main body directly knelt on the ground, as if two enormous mountains were pressing on him, rendering him unable to move from his Primordial Spirit all the way to his toes.
No attack;
Not magic;
It's just a simple pressure from the opponent that makes even someone in the Mahayana Realm like him unable to withstand.
Wang Jixuan mustered all his strength and barely raised his head to directly face the source of the pressure.
It seemed as though the Qiankun Daoze had lost its effect here.
A figure stood beyond the Sky Dome, an unknown distance away, coldly observing him.
For someone at the Mahayana Realm, he could only see the general outline of this person, knowing only that the figure wore golden armor and was likely a male cultivator.
Wang Jixuan's breathing gradually became rapid.
The opponent increased the pressure.
Moreover, Wang Jixuan heard several different voices, from distant to near, slowly arriving.
