Fists collided with a thunderous BOOM. The explosion rocked the stage as a powerful shockwave radiated outward, kicking up a towering cloud of dust.
Lu Shaohua's expression changed in an instant. He felt a colossal force, far more tyrannical than before, surge from Yang Jing's fist like a tidal wave.
The force was ferocious, yet it held a trace of nimbleness that made it impossible for him to redirect.
At the same time, a potent and piercing stream of Inner Qi shot from the point of impact, drilling into his arm like a steel needle and surging through his meridians straight toward his Dantian.
His own Inner Qi rushed to counter it, but it was like a praying mantis trying to stop a chariot—instantly shattered by this tyrannical force.
Yang Jing stood his ground, perfectly still. Not a single crack appeared on the bluestone tiles beneath his feet.
