Xiang Yang appeared calm on the surface, but inwardly he was secretly startled. He silently circulated his power, calming his roiling blood and qi. What ferocious strength—this was a purely violent assault.
This was unlike an attack based on true qi, with razor-sharp qi blades or ever-changing attributes of ice, fire, wind, or thunder. It was simply the suppression and impact of raw force.
Strength was the most primal, most elementary power of the human body and nature. Yet it was also the most fundamental and powerful force. Once strength reached an inhuman level, it could likewise unleash ultimate destructive power.
Everyone possessed strength; it was merely a matter of greater or lesser amounts. But Hu Yulu's strength was the greatest Xiang Yang had ever seen—perhaps only Chu Sai'en, who stood nearby watching like a tiger eyeing its prey, could be added to that comparison.
"Again."
Blazing battle intent rose in Hu Yulu's eyes. With a thunderous roar, he worked feeling back into his numb, aching hands. His towering, imposing body moved with the agility of an ape. He kicked off the ground and darted to Xiang Yang's right flank, lowered his head, brought his five fingers together into a palm, and viciously jabbed at the dantian three inches below Xiang Yang's navel.
This strike was utterly unlike the blunt fist force of the previous Bull Demon horn-ramming attack. Its power might have been slightly weaker, but it focused on piercing force, its strength like a drill bit and exceedingly difficult to deflect.
Xiang Yang neither evaded nor retreated. He likewise joined his fingers and jabbed forward, his hand moving like a sharp blade, the tip of his middle finger protruding like a fine needle.
As the two broad palms collided, Xiang Yang's hand let out a crisp crack as