He felt an unprecedented sense of oppression.
It was a spiritual crushing, a resonance on the soul level, transcending the mundane dimensions of perception.
He seemed to see a vast river, and Jiang Ning's figure was suspended above it, surrounded by countless fragments of True Spirit that glimmered like stars around him, ignited and extinguished by his breath, circulated by his thoughts.
"Is this... the true realm of the world's second?" Beicang King murmured to himself, with a hint of tremor in his voice.
Compared to Prince Zhenbei, he felt more.
The more he felt, the more he sensed Jiang Ning's terrifying nature.
Earlier in the council hall, Jiang Ning's scene of suppressing Xu Zhen, Prince Zhenbei, with one hand was a contest of physical strength.
And now, what Jiang Ning instilled in him was the shock of a frog in a well, the awe of an ant gazing at the sky, making him feel his own insignificance and a deep-seated reverence.
