Everything happened in that instant; against a top-level martial expert, a regular expert wouldn't have a chance to exchange several hundred blows. When the wind finally stopped, and the purple robes settled, the ground was left with a pile of broken rags.
Meng Fuyao dashed out, her robes flying behind her as she looked around. The night air was slightly misty, and the moon shone from above. Where did the human silhouette disappear to?
She stared at the spot where the person had vanished, a surge of rage coursing through her blood as she landed a blow on the temple doors, blasting them open.
