He knew Daoist Master Xuantong's strength. At his peak, he had been even stronger than Zhao Tianba. But judging from Daoist Master Xuantong's condition now, his injuries were clearly severe, so Zhao Tianba was no longer as wary.
Daoist Master Xuantong said nothing. He merely slowly raised his right hand, gathering a ball of white spiritual energy in his palm. Though the spiritual energy looked weak, Zhao Tianba felt an intense pressure bearing down on him.
Just as he was about to make a move, Daoist Master Xuantong moved first. With a flash, he appeared directly in front of Zhao Tianba and struck at his chest with his palm.
Zhao Tianba had not expected Daoist Master Xuantong to retain such speed despite his severe injuries, and hurriedly raised a hand to block. Their palms collided, and Zhao Tianba felt a powerful surge of spiritual energy. His body staggered back more than ten steps out of control, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
He looked down at his chest. His clothes had been shattered by the impact, revealing a large bruise.
"How... how did your injuries recover so quickly?" Zhao Tianba asked in disbelief. He had clearly heard that Daoist Master Xuantong was seriously injured and could barely even get out of bed.
Daoist Master Xuantong coughed several times, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth as well. Gasping for breath, he said, "Even if my Kunlun Sect has suffered grave losses, it is not your Southern Fist Sect's place to bully us. You want to seize our mountain gate? You are not qualified!"
That palm strike had forcibly drawn upon the primordial spiritual energy within his body. Though it had injured Zhao Tianba, it had also worsened his own injuries considerably.
When the Southern Fist Sect disciples