High in the sky, the dense white fog had dispersed, leaving only a mass of dark clouds gathered over the wilderness, casting several extra strokes of gloom across the land.
Xiang Yang stood alone upon the pockmarked, scarred earth. He spat out a mouthful of bloody froth, his face somewhat pale, then circulated his true qi to mend his injured body. Like sweet rain sweeping over parched ground, he recovered swiftly.
His battle with Chu Sai'en and Hu Yulu had not lasted long, nor had they exchanged many moves. Yet under the two men's desperate final strike, it had still been difficult for him to emerge unscathed. He had forcibly withdrawn his palm while enduring injury, and was consequently hurt by Chu Sai'en's violent palm force.
"My martial arts have not declined; they have improved further. It is simply that when facing Iron Crotch Masters like these, barehanded and relying solely on the Three Points Divine Finger, I am far less effective than when I have Qu Xie in hand, where cutting them down is as easy as chopping melons and vegetables."
Xiang Yang had a clear understanding and assessment of himself. The Three Points Divine Finger was by no means weak, and its potential was boundless. Though it might not compare to a peerless blade art like the Seven Limits, one that seized the creative workings of heaven and earth, it was more than sufficient when paired with the power he himself possessed.
Take this battle, for instance. Chu Sai'en and Hu Yulu had joined forces, and in sheer difficulty, they had surpassed even Eight Leaves. Yet they had still died at Xiang Yang's hands. Not only had the two of them never expected this outcome—even Giant Spirit, the Celestial behind them, could not have imagined it.
Not far