Zhao Yuan was sent flying more than ten meters, only stopping when he crashed into a wall.
The sturdy wall, built from bluestone bricks, had a massive hole smashed through it, sending countless shards and fragments flying everywhere!
Zhao Yuan's entire body screamed in pain, as if he were about to fall apart. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up from the ground. He was a bloody mess, covered in wounds that made him look terrifying, like an Evil Ghost clawing its way out of the depths of Hell.
Thankfully, Zhao Yuan's body had long been tempered to the hardness of bedrock through his past Cultivation. Otherwise, that last, incredibly domineering Sword Light wouldn't have just left him covered in wounds—it would have torn him to shreds!
'The power of the Sword Light alone is this formidable. This Divine Striking Skill… it's truly terrifying!'
But Zhao Yuan had no time for such thoughts. He just wanted to know how Ying Ji was doing.
