After a conversation, Shan Bing realized that he might have really attacked the wrong person.
The person in front of him, who claimed to be Cui Yuan, was just an ordinary swordsman living in seclusion in Dengzhou—of course, this was the opponent's claim of being ordinary. At least, according to Shan Bing's own judgement, anyone who could stop his "Impact Strike" with sheer force couldn't be considered ordinary.
However, upon seeing the man's fist, which was as big as his own head, Shan Bing had to admit that the other was right.
"I'm really just ordinary, can't you see?"
Perhaps sensing Shan Bing's disbelief, the giant palm waved again in front of Shan Bing.
"Look again, look again."
"Yes, indeed very ordinary."
Looking at the giant and solid figure, like a Little Giant, through the gaps of fingers, Shan Bing swallowed hard.
