As Zhou Zhengran maneuvered the rest of his flying swords, he formed a magic seal, causing a burst of golden light to surge around his body, with an overwhelming aura. A fist enveloped in blood light struck out, shattering the night fog with a deafening sound.
Qin Ming was fearless, confronting it bare-handed.
The sound of continuous impacts was unending, with various runes bursting between them as intricate patterns weaved together, resembling tangible Tao Rhythms flowing.
They continued their duel, exchanging dozens of moves in an instant.
Zhou Zhengran rapidly retreated, feeling incredulous. He had gathered the Pure Yang Blood Qi and Spirit Light of the Fifth Realm to forge a golden fist mark, but now his hand was cramping, and blood was dripping.
This young man, barely in his twenties, was truly a formidable opponent, not one to boast vainly, but one to engage in a true life-and-death battle with.
