"Boom!"
The Golden Stick in the hands of the demonized Feng Tiannan struck the ground, causing an earth-shattering roar and fracturing a chunk of bluestone on the ground, sending debris flying.
At this moment, Ye Weiming had quietly retreated a few feet backwards.
This distance was exactly beyond the reach of the opponent's "Mountain Cleaving Strength", allowing him to neatly dodge this head-on strike.
Not too much, not too little!
The Golden Stick almost grazed his nose as it fell, with its resulting gust blowing his clothes and hair, yet Ye Weiming's gaze remained as calm as ever.
It was as if he were an outsider, utterly unaffected by this earth-shattering blow by his opponent.
Such an imposing demeanor was simply through the roof!
It wasn't until the moment when the Golden Stick in his opponent's hand hit the ground and its power was fully spent, did Ye Weiming finally move.
