The Might of the Divine Fist

Are people today inferior to those of old?

Li Yan's heart tightened, and he hurriedly turned to look around.

This saying had been around for a long time.

It was somewhat like the Confucian habit of constantly invoking the "sages of antiquity" and the "rule of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors" to criticize current affairs.

Some martial artists believed that antiquity had been the golden age of Martial Arts, especially during times of war, when peerless warriors who could face ten thousand men had emerged one after another.

Nowadays, however, Martial Arts had continued to decline, and many ultimate techniques and cultivation methods had consequently been lost.

Li Yan did not care about this claim.

Kong Hui had defied orthodox teachings and had once been the Imperial Tutor. Having witnessed the rise and fall of dynasties, he was unlikely to be a pedantic man.

The only possibility was that he was stalling for time!

Could he be waiting for Zhao Qingxu's rescue...

Luo MingZi and Pei Zongti beside him had evidently thought of this as well.

With a single glance, they immediately gave orders, and the personnel stationed around the perimeter began redeploying and searching.

The Commandery Commandant Office also dispatched several teams of musketeers.

All these men had awakened supernatural abilities and worked together with seamless coordination, their firepower covering the area.

They were the troops the imperial court had specifically assembled to deal with Grandmasters.

Li Yan was somewhat curious whether Zhao Qingxu would still dare show himself under such precautions...

The perimeter was seething with turmoil, yet the center was deathly silent.

The wind and sand swept past, and Kong Hui's mocking words seemed to still drift through the air.

To everyone's surprise, Wan Sheng Ying, who had lost by a single move, did not become