Whose Terminator Is This?

As Wang Yanfeng closed to within thirty meters of Chen Ping,

he suddenly shouted, leaped forward, and landed firmly on both feet. He raised his clenched fists high, then smashed them down with savage force.

He was still thirty meters away from Chen Ping, so naturally, his fists could not hit him. What he struck was the ground.

A layer of bronze-colored light spread across his fists. The instant they struck the ground, not a sound was made.

Yet a wave of cyan air swept toward Chen Ping.

What a powerful shock wave.

Chen Ping's heart tightened. His opponent's attack was not merely a display of raw strength and soul power; it also contained considerable technique and control. It truly combined strength and skill as one.

As expected of a genius from the Body Sect! Both fists were Martial Souls? Among the younger generation of the Body Sect, Wang Yanfeng was surely one of the best.

The next moment, Chen Ping gathered his blood energy into the sole of his right foot without hesitation. Recalling the flow of soul power when his Beast Staff's Second Soul Skill descended, he stomped down just as solidly.

For a moment, crimson ripples and cyan airwaves spread out simultaneously before finally colliding at a certain point.

"Boom—"

Where the crimson ripples and cyan airwaves converged, the ground of the Soul Arena instantly cracked apart, revealing fissures everywhere.

But it was not over yet. Wang Yanfeng seemed to have decided from the start to wear Chen Ping down, showing no concern for the consumption of his own soul power.

The cyan light around his fists not only failed to fade, but grew even more intense. His Iron Fists began pounding rhythmically against the ground like drumbeats.

"Thump! Thump-thump! Thump! Thump-thump!"

Circle after circle of cyan