"You broke through again? When—?!"
Yu Feng's face paled.
Her mind had been too tangled in failure to register it before—but now, reality hit like a guillotine.
Su Xiaobai's aura had changed.
Core Formation? Gone.
Nascent Soul.
This bastard—when the hell did he cross realms like a peasant scarfing down potatoes!?
Su Xiaobai sneered, exuding the kind of lazy confidence that begged for a knife to the throat. She couldn't kill him now. Not alone. And not with Zhu Qing standing beside him like a personal executioner.
Zhu Qing didn't share Su Xiaobai's smugness.
She brushed Yu Feng's wrist—just a touch.
A pulse of energy surged.
Her expression shifted.
"Such a talent…" she murmured. "A waste to kill."
She wasn't talking about Su Xiaobai.
Yu Feng's bone age was younger than his.
And yet—Intermediate Nascent Soul Realm.
No tricks. No special bloodline. No bullshit cultivation hacks like Su Xiaobai's absurd Yin-absorbing powers.
Pure, unfiltered talent.
