The sounds continued, and so did the tremors, but that was all.
Neither the buildings nor anything else changed under the shaking.
At last, the tremors stopped. Everyone below raised their heads and stared at the first building platform along the mountain path, their hearts itching like they were being clawed by cats. They desperately wanted to go up and see what had happened.
The Martial Artists below did not know what was going on, but Qian Wantong and the others standing at the mountain path entrance above were dumbfounded.
They had never seen Elder Qian display such brutality. He swung the human-sized Puppet around and smashed it against the stone slabs again and again, like a pile driver at a construction site, repeatedly hammering the ground with the Puppet in his hand.
The stone slabs on the ground gradually shattered into chunks, and even a crater had formed. Yet the Puppet in his hand remained completely unchanged.
He even smashed the Puppet face-first into the ground. In the end, not even the tip of its nose was damaged. It had merely turned slightly white, with stone dust stuck to it.
This Puppet was practically a hammer—perhaps even harder than one. It had taken so many blows without deforming at all.
It had to be known that his strength was no ordinary strength. Especially when enhanced with Xiantian power, every strike carried more than ten thousand jin of force. Yet the Puppet in his hand still showed no change whatsoever. It was infuriating.
As Qian Ying looked at the Puppet's face, still unchanged, its slightly curled-up lips seemed to be mocking him, telling him to keep smashing it—smash it harder. If it changed even a little, it would not be a Puppet!
The longer Qian Ying looked, the more an