Chapter 583 This Life, This World, This Sky, This Earth; This Single Strike (1/2)

Chapter 583: This Life, This World, This Sky, This Earth; This Single Strike

Translator: Nyoi-Bo StudioEditor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

The audience that were in their seats couldn't help but stand up and lean forward with their mouths open, to watch Yi Dongmu perform his final strike.

Yi Dongmu's momentum and power had reached maximum capacity, and now, the daggers in his hands finally moved. They travelled at an unimaginable speed, quicker than the wind.

You cannot touch the wind, nor can you see it. The beginning and then end of that strike was untraceable.

Although everyone knew Yi Dongmu was going to strike, when he actually did it, people thought their eyes were playing tricks, as the strike launched out of nowhere.

Its speed was so great, people could not follow the blade and its driving hand, but a collective gasp of shock was still given by the entire audience. Following that tantalizing moment, chills ran down their spines and their faces were drawn of their color; it was as if the spectators themselves each suffered the same strike.

Although they were unable to watch the blade on its journey, everyone was able to imagine it. They pictured it rocketing through the air, cleaving through Han Sen's neck and letting his head be carried by the wind, painting the arena in claret.

In reality, when the sudden gust of gale-force winds started, the blade disappeared from their eyesight. When they felt it, it was already too late.

”Wind strike!” Mister Long shouted. With wide eyes, he watched Yi Dongmu unleash his strike.

But people weren't paying attention to what he was saying anymore, as the focus of the audience and spectators now moved to Han Sen.

Everyone was eager for the result. The scary power of a one hundred and fifty step Sacrifice had built up within a sole man, and it had been delivered to a single opponent through a blade; they did not know how Han Sen could survive it.

Fall back!

Aside from falling back, they did not know how anyone could avoid being the recipient of such a strike.

But then they thought to themselves, who could possibly be able to react and fall back in the time from such a strike?

They imagined if a person sought to dodge the incoming attack, their head would have been removed from their body before their toes had been lifted.

Can't dodge it!

Everyone who thought to put themselves in Dollar's boots and imagine how he might react had their faces turned white, thinking to themselves how they probably wouldn't even see the strike coming.

The wind does not have a shape, but a knife does.

Han Sen's hand did not possess a weapon, and in this terrifying moment, he placed the palms of his hands together like a praying buddha. His eyes did not even look at the knife come his way, and still, he looked so calm and so chill. It was in fascinating contrast to Yi Dongmu's raging, intimidating aura. The people who watched it felt really bad.

Dong!

The extreme attack by Yi Dongmu, the final strike of Sacrifice and the blade of its deliverance, found itself caught and wedged between Han Sen's palms.

It was at that moment the storm stopped and the air became gentle; the excitement that had built up was now empty. Silence robbed the room of its life, and it was as if time stood still.

The brutal attack had been stopped by a man's bare hands.

Everyone's mouth dropped. They scoured the canvas of that scene in absolute shock. No one was able to believe or accept that the strike that had received so much build-up was now over.

It was like a truck going over two hundred miles per hour being brought to an instant stop without any prior sign. The audience felt strange, and they could hardly accept what their eyes told them. Even if a vehicle was going at two hundred miles per hour, slowing down to stop would take some noticeable time.

And even if such a truck had smashed into a wall, considerable damage would be dealt to both objects.

But nothing happened here. Everything just came to an instant stop.

The blade's distance to Dollar's eyebrow was only about an inch, but even that was a great distance.

Dollar was like a buddha that was able to operate and control everything. His palms had their own sky and that moment was forever. Even if the sky was falling and the world was ending, nothing would have allowed his hands to move an additional inch.

It was unfathomable; not a single sound came from the audience seats. It was as if the brains of everyone there could not react. The countless eyes of the spectators just watched those two still, silent people.