The sudden drop in temperature sent a chill through everyone's hearts, something only an extraordinary person could achieve.
"So terrifying, I feel so cold, my body is about to freeze stiff!"
"Is this the power of that European youth? He must be a real immortal, able to control temperature."
"Now, that handsome youth in black robes probably can't win, such a pity!"
On Little Yi's side, a group of young girls exclaimed, some lamenting over Ye Qingfeng, some in awe of the Holy Son, and they all spoke out.
The Holy Son was too powerful, they felt the black-robed youth didn't stand a chance.
"No way, he's the strongest," Little Yi spoke softly at this moment.
"Huh? Little Yi, whom are you talking about, the Ye Kill God or the Holy Son of Europe?" The short-haired girl was taken aback.
"Ye...!"
