Suddenly, in a world of dim grey, two streaks of white light flashed like lightning, fusing into a single majestic gaze that pierced across the far-off distance and fell upon Jiang Dali.
"Swish—"
Jiang Dali's senses flared; Golden Light surged in his eyes, and he abruptly met that solemn gaze slowly rising from within the Sky. Their eyes locked, clashing like bolts of lightning.
The two were separated by more than several hundred zhang, yet the instant their gazes collided, the dead-still, oppressively silent space suddenly whipped up a raging gale, sending gray-black sand and dust billowing into the sky.
The Golden Light in Jiang Dali's tranquil, wave-less eyes suddenly rippled, like a calm lake's surface wrinkled by the wind; faint ripples spread, and the Golden Light in his gaze began to rapidly dim.
An incomparably overbearing wave of Will crushed out from that majestic gaze opposite him, bearing down upon him, making his own Will quail and retreat.
