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"Trash" worked as an insult just as well in the language of the endless space.
The golden-armored Golden Immortal roared and swept his left hand. As golden light filled the sky, a whip burst forth, stretched thousands of zhang through space, and crashed toward Wang Sheng's head.
Wang Sheng dared not be careless in the slightest. They weren't up against the average Golden Immortal; their opponent was a general of the Immortal Saint Realm, though only a minor one. Before the attack was even launched, lightning had already gathered beneath his feet.
Just before the golden whip hit him, Wang Sheng wrapped himself with lightning and retreated a thousand zhang backward in an instant, leaving behind only a lightning bolt.
Wang Sheng's lips curved into a faint, cold smile. He angled his sword upward and shot a beam of sword radiance from the tip. It was only three chi long at first, but it expanded as it flew, growing to a hundred zhang before it even crossed half the distance.
When masters fought, the opening exchanges were little more than probing moves—a turn-based test of each other's strength.
The golden-armored Golden Immortal...
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