The moment Igaris's voice faded, the atmosphere cracked like shattering glass.
A storm of spiritual energy surged across the coliseum as nine Dao Children launched forward, some out of pride, others out of sheer rage.
Fairy Hua's lotuses bloomed mid-air like stars of death, raining down petals sharper than blades. Yang Huo's flame wings burst open behind him, igniting the ground as he propelled himself like a meteor. Mu Chen raised a swirling vortex of violet poison mist, releasing thousands of venomous needles in a single breath.
The others followed with their own dazzling techniques—blades of lightning, spear shadows, and earth-rending fists.
But Igaris didn't move.
He simply stood there, his obsidian robes undisturbed.
The attacks reached him in seconds.
And then—
Crack!
Every attack... froze.
Petals halted mid-air.
Flames dimmed.
Lightning died.
The crowd leaned forward, stunned, unable to comprehend what they were seeing.
