"You..."
The Western Patrol Envoy hadn't had the chance to let out a roar of rage before his head exploded once again, yet his body continued to retaliate, gathering his whole body's strength to chop down from above. A Great Stele-Felling Hand struck An Jing's crossed and stacked arms!
Bang!
A dull sound of metal clashing with metal rang out, and An Jing, like an iron stake, was slammed into the ground by He Wuchang's counterattack, his entire knees buried beneath the layers of rock and soil.
Surrounding ground formed a handprint-shaped crater with An Jing's body as the center.
But seizing this opportunity to retreat and regrow his head, He Wuchang widened his eyes in disbelief at the sight before him.
In front of him, An Jing had already pulled out his legs, and indeed, there was a blood-colored handprint on his arms, but his flesh and bones were intact, and his momentum was not diminished but increased, climbing higher and higher like a fierce fire brewing oil!
