Ming Han's words did not arouse much suspicion.
The cultivators present merely thought that he was spouting nonsense after suffering a breakdown because he could not withstand the series of blows.
The initial group of Nascent Soul paragons did not retreat. Each of them controlled their Dharmic weapons and conjured hand seals, preparing to attack Su Zimo once more!
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!
More than ten more Nascent Soul paragons gathered, ready to take advantage of the situation!
"Ni!"
Su Zimo conjured hand seals and chanted Sanskrit!
Boom!
Golden light filled the skies.
A gigantic golden palm tore through the firmament, covering the skies as it descended!
The palm patterns on the golden palm were clearly visible and shone with a blinding golden light, suppressing the dozens of Nascent Soul paragons in midair with a majestic aura!
"Kill!"
