The brawny, beastlike woman exchanged blows with Han Pu's peerless fist force and immediately felt a condensed, razor-sharp power, surging with torrential heat. It came layer upon layer, wave upon wave, each force stronger than the last, as though Heaven and Earth stretched boundlessly on, without end.
Thanks to her physique, not only was her talent for cultivation exceptional, but her instinct for combat was also remarkably keen. She knew by instinct that she was no match for him.
Her right foot drew back, and her hand swept around in reverse. Almost unconsciously, she employed a method akin to Taiji pushing hands. The immense force in her palm gathered without dispersing, lifting and diverting Han Pu's endlessly surging fist force aside.
Han Pu knew this woman's abilities were anything but ordinary. Seeing her respond so aptly—though her cultivation was clearly inferior to his and her techniques less exquisite than his, she could nevertheless resolve his force with uncanny understanding—he nodded slightly.
As expected of someone he had taken a liking to. Her talent was truly outstanding. To have drifted into the Demonic Path was like a pearl buried beneath dust.
His body shook, making the hard armor on his surface clang and ring as sparks flew. He transformed into a black shadow and charged the brawny woman again, but this time he fought with palm techniques.
His long, thick palms were like enormous cattail fans. With one sweep, they resembled the mystical plantain fan of legend: one sweep raised wild winds, two sweeps summoned heavenly fire, three sweeps unleashed wind and fire like dragons, sending the galaxy crashing down...
This palm technique had been derived by Meng Zhao from the Five Absolutes of Burning Heaven Saber. It was a profound art that cultivated both inner and outer strength.
Within, the