Tang Chen suddenly raised his head, blood-red light flickering in his eyes, though traces of clarity remained.
Both hands clenched around the hammer's handle, his back straightened. The phantom moved in sync with him as the giant hammer, wrapped in a sky full of bloody light, crashed down. Even heaven and earth seemed to dim with it.
But when the sword rose, it made a faint sound, like thousands upon thousands of silken threads snapping at once.
Yang Guyun's spear reached Tang Chen's waist first.
Tang Chen did not look. His left fist shot out, and the force of the punch collided with the spearhead in a deafening blast.
Yang Guyun swayed slightly, his spearhead knocked aside a fraction. Borrowing that force, he swiftly twisted around, swung the spear's shaft back, and struck Tang Chen squarely in the left knee.
Tang Chen's body dipped, yet the hammer's momentum in his hand only grew fiercer.
At that moment, Zhou Qiubai's sword arrived.
That thread of power was as slight as a petal falling onto water, yet it caused Tang Chen's hammer to veer off course involuntarily.
Seizing the opportunity, Yang Guyun stomped the ground apart and shot beneath Tang Chen's arm with spear and body as one. His spear thrust like a dragon, slipping through the gaps between the ribs before swiftly pulling back.
Tang Chen gave a muffled groan. Blood gushed out, and his white lapels were instantly dyed dark red.
Still unwilling to fall, he swung his hammer backward. Its force was like a rainbow as it sent Yang Guyun flying.
Yang Guyun flipped twice in midair. Upon landing, he braced himself against the ground with one hand, his spear held horizontally before him as he exhaled a breath of stale air.
Zhou Qiubai gave Tang Chen no chance