Fu Guang struggled with all his might, being a Sect Leader and nominally the foremost figure of this golden light celestial realm, no one had ever dared to treat him this way.
Thus, in his fury and humiliation, Fu Guang unleashed unprecedented potential, pushing his Great Luo Peak Cultivation Level to its extreme.
Countless golden lights diffused around him, then frantically surged towards Xue An.
But it was all in vain.
Just as the golden lights reached halfway, they melted away rapidly as if they were candles scorched by a fierce flame, eventually dissolving into nothingness.
From beginning to end, not even a strand of Xue An’s hair had been ruffled.
This scene filled Fu Guang with utter shock and terror.
At the same time, he felt the hand clenching his neck tightening gradually.
The process was slow, yet it made him utterly powerless to resist.
Fu Guang felt his entire Cultivation Level being progressively restrained, even breathing became difficult for him.
It should be known that at his level of cultivation, he could have lived without breathing, sustaining himself solely on the conversion of Spiritual Power.
The emergence of the illusion of breath constriction also proved that Xue An was not only clutching his neck, but had also completely severed his connection with the surroundings.
This made Fu Guang increasingly terrified, barely managing to speak, "You... who exactly are you? Why are you not afraid of our Sects’ mystic arts?"
Xue An’s mouth curved into a cold smile, "Why am I not afraid of your mystic arts? Heh, everything you wield was created by my ancestors. Do you understand now?"
Fu Guang’s pupils immediately shrank to the size of needle tips, because he thought of a legend known only to Sect Leaders.
The legend said that the founders of the seven celestial realms were not from this world, but had migrated from an ancient and mysterious place.
But because the time was so remote, Fu Guang had only listened to it in passing and hadn’t taken it to heart.
Yet today, he had encountered Xue An.
In utter panic, he looked at Xue An and stammered, "Are you... a member of the Hua Clan?"
Xue An smiled faintly, "Correct, but sadly there’s no reward!"
As he spoke, the hand gripping Fu Guang’s neck suddenly exerted more force.
Fu Guang’s body shook violently, and with the isolation of Spiritual Power, his face quickly turned red and purplish.
This slow march towards death made the usually pampered and privileged Fu Guang utterly terrified. In desperation, he mustered his last ounce of strength and pleaded in a voice almost begging for mercy, "Spare me!"
This plea for mercy spread throughout the entire square.
Whether disciples or elders, all were dumbfounded, many even experienced a complete mental blank because everything seemed so unbelievable.
Only after hearing this plea did many gradually regain their senses.
But before they could fully recover, they heard Xue An laugh coldly, "Now you know to beg for mercy? Too bad... it’s too late!"
Saying that, a trace of cold light flitted through Xue An’s eyes.
"No!"
Fu Guang bellowed with the last bit of his strength, for at that moment, he felt an extremely chilling murderous intent.
Under this imposing force, Fu Guang felt like a lamb on the butcher’s block, already detecting the scent of death.
Therefore, he attempted to save himself.
"Ancestral Master, save me!"
Just as these four words were uttered, an anxious voice echoed from the depths of the Golden Cauldron Pavilion, "Fellow Daoist, please show mercy!"
However, Xue An was unmoved and instead repressed the cold light in his eyes, saying indifferently, "Farewell, no need to see you off!"
With that, Xue An’s palm suddenly clenched.
Boom!
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