Zhao Kun did not give Li Hao time to recover, as he immediately pressed forward with a relentless series of attacks, each strike heavier than the last, forcing Li Hao into a defensive position as the arena floor cracked under the pressure of their exchanges, revealing the clear difference in their raw cultivation levels.
Each collision sent vibrations through Li Hao's body, his arms numbing slightly as he blocked and redirected the attacks, yet despite the apparent disadvantage, his movements remained precise, his control over his techniques allowing him to minimize damage while observing Zhao Kun's rhythm.
"He's adapting," one elder murmured from above.
Indeed, Li Hao was not simply enduring.
He was learning.
With each exchange, his timing improved, his counters becoming sharper, his movements more efficient, as if he was gradually aligning himself with Zhao Kun's pace, narrowing the gap not through raw power, but through refinement.
Zhao Kun noticed it as well.
And his expression darkened.
"You think technique alone is enough?" he said coldly.
His aura surged suddenly.
And the pressure doubled.