"The incineration trait has become even more terrifying..."
Fang Qingyu looked at his slash, different from before.
It seemed like an annihilating effect.
In reality, it was high-temperature rapid incineration, reducing it to black charcoal.
If someone had told him before that a Martial Artist could achieve this level, Fang Qingyu wouldn't have believed it to death.
But now,
he truly achieved it.
This is a Martial Artist.
Like a blank canvas, allowing the martial practitioner to wield the brush as they wish.
No one can dictate what path a Martial Artist must take, for the true way is not on another's tongue but beneath one's own feet.
Everyone's path in Martial Arts is written with blood and sweat, stroke by stroke.
Everyone's martial trajectory is etched with sharpness, step by step.
Though different from one another,
each is splendid in its own right.
"Qingzi, did you break through?"
Qi Hao saw Fang Qingyu's new form but no longer exclaimed loudly.
"Probably...?"
