Geng Pomo could not see Meng Zhao's face or expression through the dense veil of force, yet he could keenly sense the condescension and disappointment conveyed through the other man's eyes. This was simply bullying beyond all reason.
Running was likely impossible; his movement technique was absolutely no match for this fellow's. Then he could only fight to the death.
He would rather believe that the other man had broken his hard-body art through a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse than accept that he truly possessed such a steady and efficient method of injuring him.
Having made up his mind, Geng Pomo hesitated no longer. The surging blood and qi within him, along with the scorching force radiating from his body, slowly contracted and gathered over his skin, forming a faint crimson glow that enveloped him. At the same time, his body abruptly grew several degrees more massive, his muscles as hard as bronze and iron, brimming with a metallic texture.
The wound at the Taiyuan acupoint on his wrist squirmed and squeezed beneath the radiance of that crimson glow. Flesh and blood rapidly knitted together, sealing the injury and restoring it to its original state.
"Hah!"
With a roar, Geng Pomo's eyes burned like flames. He drove his movement technique to its limit and pounced at Meng Zhao once more.
The technique in his hands was still the Nine Seizing Eagles that Meng Zhao had repeatedly broken not long ago. Neither its moves nor its spirit had changed, but now, he had completely discarded every defensive measure within this claw art and attacked with all his might.
For a time, eagles cried across the nine heavens, while overlapping claw shadows filled the air. Sharp, fierce force spilled onto the ground; even the faintest thread could carve a