Sheng Feinan strode forward, each step leaving a trace of white frost on the ground, like the trace of a centipede crawling.
Boom boom boom! Boom boom boom!
In the middle of the meeting hall, several shadows collided abruptly.
They perfectly represented the power, speed, and destructiveness of high-level fighters, like missiles exploding in a head-on collision. Five figures clashed and then quickly intertwined again, causing the surrounding air to display a foggy white scene.
It seemed that the confrontation of enormous power caused the airflow at the center of the fight to be pushed out, creating radiating arcs. The white mist shot out all at once, its lingering momentum causing shallow dents in the walls as if it were bullets.
"Master... Master, we..."
The disciples of the Yunquan Fist who were supposed to play the role of the attackers stood dumbfounded, at a loss of what to do.
