In the next moment, the two abruptly separated.
Ning Fan's body had already acquired numerous wounds, each one fierce and terrifying, with blood pouring out like a stream.
In contrast, Zhai Yonghui, although he also had wounds, his injuries were much lighter than Ning Fan's.
It was just because his Spiritual Power was greatly depleted that his face appeared somewhat pale.
"Have you felt it clearly? This is true power. In front of me, a fellow like you is nothing more than an ant!"
Zhai Yonghui's face bore a proud look, his gaze condescending as he stared at Ning Fan, his eyes filled with disdain.
Ning Fan sneered, dismissively saying, "You are in such a sorry state yourself, yet you have the nerve to say that?"
"It seems that what my father left behind was indeed correct. Kunlun is just a bunch of incompetents, wine sacks, and rice bags, only knowing to hide here and wait for death!"
His words were full of provocation, openly insulting everyone from Kunlun.
