At this point, barring any mishap, Gan Mingfeng was doomed to die, practically driven to the end of the road.
Yet behind him stood the most formidable heaven-blessed prodigy of the age, and he himself still had value to offer. Naturally, that person would not let him die so easily at Peng Haibing and Lu Hou'er's hands.
Thus, just as the two demonic palms capable of holding up the heavens and splitting the earth were about to crush him flat, the black cauldron markings on Gan Mingfeng's body emerged, transforming into the phantom of a massive black cauldron that enveloped him whole.
It looked as though Gan Mingfeng himself had unleashed some secret Trump Card upon being driven into a desperate corner.
In truth, however, it had nothing to do with Gan Mingfeng. Meng Zhao had merely used his own martial cultivation to manifest the Sheji Cauldron, then drawn upon a trace of its spiritual resonance of mountains and rivers to place it upon Gan Mingfeng.
The next instant, the two enormous palms closed together, leaving not the slightest gap. Between them erupted an immense burst of black demonic light, which exploded and sent a colossal shockwave of dust soaring upward like a mushroom cloud.
That strike possessed the power to sweep across mountains and rivers. Even a Grandmaster martial artist would have died beneath it.
Peng Haibing and Lu Hou'er both stirred inwardly, but felt no joy at having succeeded. Instead, they were filled with the doubt and unease that came with encountering something troublesome and thorny. How could it be? How could Gan Mingfeng possibly survive the force of such tremendous power?
When the dust finally dispersed, Gan Mingfeng was standing exactly where he had been, completely unscathed. Even his clothes bore not the slightest wrinkle, as though