Time flew by.
The number of people around him continued to decrease steadily.
Four hours later, only ten young men remained in the sword formation picture number eight, including Ding Hao, Zhang Fan, and Li Canyang. The others had either chosen to forfeit this round due to the unbearable pain, or fainted dead away and had been carried out of the formation.
Ding Hao was starting to feel the strain.
As time ticked by, the pressure within this formation had also gradually increased. At this point in time, it was already close to ten times more than the beginning.
Zhang Fan was clearly doing his best to hang on. His entire body was covered in sweat droplets that were as big as soybeans and his normal features had contorted themselves into a hideous visage due to the intense pain. His
