The Tip of the Iceberg of His Strength, Feng Wang's Shock

Listening to Sloth's lazy, calm voice, comparing it with the longsword lodged in his body and the hero whose hand he held in a grip so tight he could not move at all...

The entire venue fell silent.

Feng Wang had just sprung up from the ground and still could not see what had happened ahead.

But she could clearly smell the oppressive air.

He... woke up?

"You!"

The hero whose hand was firmly gripped, unable to move, had already used all his strength. Energy surged wildly from the floor beneath his feet.

Yet even so, his hand did not budge in the slightest, as if it had been cast into something solid.

What terrifying strength!

"Why are you calling me?"

Sloth raised his head and looked at him with a smiling gaze.

"Sigh, I did have some Wake-up Rage, but it wasn't really you guys who woke me up."

"Still, your hand seems a little rude."

As he spoke, that hand suddenly clenched down. The hand he held shattered instantly like a crisp cookie!

Blood mixed with something strange splattered out, followed by a scream.

"Ahhh!"

The man yanked his hand back with all his might. It was as though it had been crushed by a hydraulic press; the agony made him tear off his own shattered hand!

After pulling back what remained of his severed arm, he flew backward into the distance, clutching the stump to stop the bleeding.

This sudden scene shocked everyone. Their bodies instantly tensed as they stared at the person before them in horror.

Even before coming here, their companions had warned them that Sin was strong.

But none of them had expected him to be this strong!

Lu Ce slowly loosened his grip, and broken bones and mangled flesh fell from his palm.