The battlefield had become an arena of gods and monsters.
Dust, heat, and the stink of scorched earth hung thick in the air, veiling the figures locked in mortal combat. The once-lush clearing had been reduced to a cratered field of cracked stone and charred soil. From the depths of the gully carved by Hang Feng's mighty strike, Li Wuji rose like a specter.
"Courting death…" he muttered, lips curling into a sneer as his body arched forward. With but a flicker of motion, his fist flew through the air like a falling star. Members of the party were hardly able to resist the fist force, they were horrified by the brute strength of the combatant in their midst.
[Devil Flame Fist Art – Third Move: Fist Demon]
