Blades, spears, swords, halberds—every kind of weapon erupted at that moment, stabbing toward Duanmu Huai. The latter merely sat there, coldly watching the martial artists.
Then Duanmu Huai moved.
A pair of large hands thrust forward, meeting the cold gleam before him head-on. In the next instant, those arms should have been sliced apart, torn open, and hacked off.
Yet that was not what happened.
"Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang!!"
No matter what weapon they wielded, the moment it touched Duanmu Huai's hands, it was sent flying, shattered, and blasted apart. The crowd felt as if their weapons had struck not a man, but a massive stone wall. The force rebounding from the impact not only destroyed their weapons, but also left their entire bodies numb as though struck by lightning, rendering them almost incapable of moving.
At the same time, Duanmu Huai's fists had already reached their faces.
"Bang!"
No one knew what had happened. They only knew that after this thunderous boom, the dozens of martial artists surrounding Duanmu Huai were sent flying. Their bodies began coming apart in midair, breaking down and disintegrating as though crushed by something. Then their mangled bodies, spraying blood, slammed into the inn's walls, adding a vivid stroke to the scene.
Duanmu Huai stood there without moving. Not even a trace of blood had stained him. Around him, the blood formed a splattered circle. He simply stood there, fists clenched, staring at the little brat who had been hiding behind the martial artists.
Then he walked toward the little brat.
"No, no, don't come any closer!"
The little brat's face was deathly pale, and sweat poured down him. He shouted in terror and backed away, but his legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the ground.
"What are you trying to do?