The powerful qi barrier shattered completely under a single finger from Evan Lin.
It turned into wisps of mist, dispersing in all directions. The terrifying surge of qi in the surroundings also vanished completely at that moment.
Blake Lin's eyes widened in shock. Before he could even react, he realized all his qi had lost its connection.
Without any warning.
"How did you do that?!"
Blake Lin's voice was low and hoarse. The pressure on him kept increasing: the sky above pressed downward, while the ice dome beneath surged upward.
The two forces had already drenched Blake Lin's forehead in sweat. He struggled to straighten his back, trying to resist, but the growing pressure felt like a mountain crushing him.
The weight of the mountain kept increasing. His calves were already trembling, yet Blake Lin's gaze remained fixed on Evan Lin's face.
It was as if he wanted to burn the image of Master Lin from Seacrest into his mind forever.
"Just a simple little trick."
Evan Lin shook his head, refusing to answer. He stood in front of Blake Lin, not in any hurry to make a move.
At this moment, Blake Lin was like a tiger robbed of its claws—trapped between two layers of sky, with absolutely no chance of breaking free.
Actually, these two layers of sky weren't nearly as simple as they seemed—they were a formation Evan Lin had just set up.
After seeing the Four Seasons Grand Array shift the local seasons, Evan Lin tried pulling out its special qi and set up this celestial mirage right in front of them.
This kind of formation was something Evan Lin had found in ancient ruins back in the day. But back then, he was already the Nine Mysteries Immortal Lord—one of the strongest on the Immortal Martial Continent. He barely had any reason or opportunity to use such formations in battle.
But today, on a whim, he shattered the Froststorm Vortex, borrowed the Four Seasons Grand Array’s lingering qi, and threw together a quick setup—leaving Blake Lin stuck in this formation.
In other words, from start to finish, Evan Lin hadn’t used a drop of his own qi. Even the four-foot sword he wielded against Blake Lin was forged from the formation’s qi, not his own.
He barely spent any effort and still forced Blake Lin into this mess. Evan Lin couldn’t help but wonder—was the formation just too strong, or was Blake Lin from the Upper-Grade Lin Clan simply too weak?
“Who exactly taught you? How could someone like you exist in the ordinary, mortal world?”
Blake Lin gritted his teeth and conjured another sword—not to attack, but to grip the hilt and brace the tip against the ground, just to keep himself from bowing.