Outside the Arena of the Gods.
Zhongshan Sheng, whose flesh was cracking but slowly recovering, and Zhongshan Ping, whose flesh was completely annihilated leaving only his Divine Soul, had complex expressions on their faces.
Anger!
Fear!
Helplessness!
Recalling the palm that directly oppressed them, the memory lingered with heart palpitations.
Extremely powerful oppression.
Even trying to use the Zhongshan Clan's true form was impossible.
If not for a strong member of the Candle Sect rescuing them, they would have had no chance of survival.
On the other side.
On the Arena of the Gods, Shen Changqing did not leave, but instead focused his gaze on the Elders' seats.
He waited.
Waiting for a verdict.
Although the current situation was clear, the Candle Sect's high-ranking officials still needed to announce the result.
On the Elders' seats.
Zhongshan Dongxuan's form slowly vanished, as if he had never appeared.
Seeing this.
