Old Chen moved with astonishing speed, leaving behind a lingering shadow as he effortlessly leaped over ten meters with each bound. The spectators were stunned by his remarkable agility, unable to follow his movements. 0

The withered middle-aged man, undoubtedly an unrivaled expert, was able to strike swiftly despite Old Chen’s speed. A red haze swept across his hand, aiming for Old Chen’s neck. The haze rose like a round of red sun before exploding, ready to engulf his opponent.0

With lightning-fast reflexes, Old Chen countered the attack with a palm strike. The resulting boom echoed like thunder, shaking the ground and sending sand swirling through the air. The crowd’s hearts raced, wondering if Old Chen could summon a real thunderbolt if he kept up with the attacks. Such mastery of the Old Arts would be considered legendary, even by the standards of ancient times.0

With a deafening ring, reminiscent of heavenly thunder striking a demonic being, the red haze shattered into pieces. These pieces then turned into a crimson blood light, scattering in every direction before bursting. A shower of red light fell upon the frozen ground, while others struck the distinct brown rocks of the Pamir Plateau, either leaving behind holes or completely destroying them. 0

The crowd's faces paled, realizing the immense power contained in those seemingly harmless...0