Stop, Stop, I Said Stop

Rota's icy voice rang beside the exiles' ears. They had thought their first wave of attacks would be enough to finish Rota, yet they had not even managed to pierce his armor.

This was something the exiles had never imagined. Someone had actually taken their attacks head-on without any defense at all. It was simply unbelievable.

They were all genuine Soul Saints. How could six of them joining forces fail to deal with some brat?

Rota could not care less about what the exiles were thinking. He slowly raised his fist, and like a fleeting flash of light, before anyone could see the path of his strike, the attack was already over.

Rota withdrew his fist and calmly looked at the six exiles before him. With a soft chuckle, he said, "Gentlemen, farewell. No need to see you off!"

As soon as he spoke, a vast gust from his fist swept across the entire Douluo Arena. Not only were the six exiles before Rota caught in it, but even the large crowd of exiles behind them was affected.

The fierce fist wind raged through the Douluo Arena. The instant it touched them, the exiles' bodies were all torn apart.

Withstanding Rota's punch was no easy matter. These worthless rabble were no match for a single punch from him.

With just one move, the exiles' formation had been torn apart. The Douluo Arena filled with the stench of blood, and the exiles caught in the fist wind did not even leave behind corpses.

That single basic attack had wiped out roughly a fifth of the exiles' side—nearly a hundred people.

"Now that's how you throw a punch. Did you learn anything?" Rota narrowed his eyes and said with a playful grin to the vast group of exiles before him.

Although Rota