Shifting his body in a combat posture, Martial Yin Yang spat, "Kid, your Taiji Palm Arts cannot help you this time. Come and experience my Eight Trigram Palms!"
Wang Yu could hear every single word that Martial Yin Yang said clearly.
Seeing that Martial Yin Yang had just tarnished the reputation of the Taiji Palm Arts and was still going on about the Eight Trigram Palms, Wang Yu was livid.
Wang Yu was the sole inheritor of the Eight Trigram Palms arts as there were no other suitable candidates. Yet, Martial Yin Yang was currently sullying its name in front of Wang Yu.
"Eight your uncle!!!"
After countless years of self-cultivation, Wang Yu had developed an aura of slaughter. At this moment, he fully unleashed this aura. He roared and leapt forward with both palms lifted to face Martial Yin Yang.
