Chen Yang raised one hand toward the sky, his eyes slightly closed.
The wind and rain roared, his clothes fluttered, yet his heart remained calm like water. This mystical state made his entire demeanor exceptionally striking, standing out like a crane among chickens on the scene.
Even the most ordinary person could sense that Chen Yang was currently in an extremely mystical state.
Coupled with his recent bold words, it's likely he has some powerful trump card.
Whoosh.
An overwhelming killing intent surged forth.
This almost tangible aura was like a powerful wave, one after another, turbulent and majestic.
The square, occupied by thousands of people, felt like the center of a storm.
The downpour rolled in under the sky, mist pervasive, as if the dark heavens were about to collapse.
Atmosphere intense.
Silence in all directions.
Soundless tension filled the air.
Chen Yang maintained his posture like a sculpture, letting time flow, unyielding despite the passing years.
