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"Boom——"
The Refining King only felt a terrifying force pierce his right palm. He instinctively retracted his hand, and his body stumbled backward, toppling the cliff behind him. Before his rock-hard body, boulders crumbled like paper mache.
He fixed his gaze and, to his surprise, noticed a figure had appeared in front of Qin Jun and the others. The newcomer was handsome and majestic, with two red ribbons hanging down from a gallant, phoenix-feather silver crown, eyes that sparkled, with golden-threaded boots at his feet, a slingshot shaped like a crescent moon at his waist, and a three-pointed, double-edged spear in hand.
Anyone who saw him would be astounded by Yang Jian's presence. Towering like an iron pagoda, yet with a handsome face that held a touch of the divine, surpassing even Zhao Yun.
Standing behind Yang Jian, Qin Jun could clearly sense that towering arrogance that scorned everything under the heavens.
