"Damn kid, go to hell!"
As the iron fist charged forward, Wu Zongkui's face showed a brutal color, filled with a mad killing intent. Just as his fist was about to smash Ye Xuan's head, his face was lit with excitement and bloodlust.
Holding his arms, Black Mountain Eagle stood leisurely to the side, watching the scene with a sneer on his face.
Not even he would dare to take this punch lightly; he would need to dodge its edge. Ye Xuan had been so arrogant as to not even block, which was simply courting death!
Just as he'd written Ye Xuan off as a dead man, suddenly, a residual shadow flashed like lightning, confronting the iron fist with speed indiscernible to the naked eye.
Smack!
A dull sound resonated as Wu Zongkui's fierce punch abruptly stopped in front of Ye Xuan.
