Yang Zhengshan staggered back more than ten steps before bracing himself with the butt of his spear.
"Dad, are you all right?"
Yang Minghao, who had been watching Yang Zhengshan the whole time, hurried forward and asked worriedly when he saw him being sent flying back.
Yang Zhengshan shook his head slightly, his eyes fixed tightly on the bearded man who had just slashed him.
His hand stroked the spear shaft, and his expression grew increasingly grave.
This iron spear had been brought back from the army by the original owner of his body. It was not a standard military weapon, nor was it any Divine Weapon—it was simply a weapon painstakingly forged by a craftsman.
Ever since coming to this world, he had used this long spear. He had never particularly cherished it, often using it to jab at rocks and earthen walls, yet it had never suffered any damage.
But today, after just one slash, the long spear in his hand had bent. There was even a deep blade mark on the shaft. It had come within a hair's breadth of being severed.
Just one slash, and he had nearly been killed in an instant!
Yang Zhengshan let out a heavy breath.
His gaze shifted to the slightly slender figure.
Her blade flashed like a rainbow, fierce and tyrannical, actually suppressing the bearded man.
His eyes flickered as Yang Zhengshan thought, Sure enough, with my current strength, I have no right to contend with a Post-Heaven Martial Artist at all!
Seeing that Zhou Lan could handle the bearded man, Yang Zhengshan relaxed slightly.
"Give me the spear!"
As he spoke, without waiting for Yang Minghao to react, he directly snatched the long spear from his hands.
The bent iron spear could no longer be used. He could only