Yao Jing's voice trembled as she muttered, "T-Tian'er…"
Her confident smirk from earlier vanished, replaced by deep concern.
She gripped the edge of the railing in the podium, and her mind raced, 'He's really breaking through right now?! In the middle of the arena, without any preparation?! What was he thinking?!'
Despite her worry, a flicker of pride remained in her heart. Only someone as monstrous as Zhao Tian could push his cultivation to such extremes under these circumstances.
The storm above continued to swell, the vortex growing darker and more menacing.
The once-muted rumble of thunder erupted into a deafening crack, sending shockwaves through the air.
Lightning flashed within the clouds, illuminating the arena in brief bursts of golden-white light. The energy in the atmosphere grew denser, pressing down on everyone present like an invisible hand.