Although Ren Feifan completely shattered the black mist, he still staggered back several steps, feeling his blood and qi surging upwards.
A flicker of surprise crossed the old Earl's eyes—there probably wasn't a single young man who could take his move without dying.
Yet this Huaxia lad actually withstood it?
And he even managed to slice his black mist into pieces?
Could Huaxia truly have such a demonic genius?
He had only known through the results of the competition that the Huaxia youth was quite strong among his peers.
But now it seemed he had vastly underestimated him—this was not just quite strong, it had reached the pinnacle of freakishness!
"I've underestimated you. If you were to unleash some more strength, you indeed might be able to kill Collins,"
the old man said, stroking his beard with an air of nonchalance.
Ren Feifan paid it no mind, instead steadily accumulating Nine Yang True Qi under his feet—when necessary, he would only have the option to dodge.
