At this moment, heaven and earth lost all color.
Everyone covered their eyes, their faces twisted in pain. The power of Dao Rhymes ran wild all around them; anyone who opened their eyes could feel them sting with agony.
They were forced to keep their eyes shut.
"Nine Heavens Divine Thunder, descend."
The next moment, Ye Lin's voice rang out.
Boom, boom, boom.
A series of thunderous explosions erupted. Everyone was immensely curious, but none dared open their eyes to look—not even their divine senses.
"Saint-Falling Fist."
Seeing Iron Fist before him utterly incapable of resisting, Ye Lin showed no mercy as he threw a punch.
Ripples spread through the space ahead. The next instant, space shattered, and a huge hole opened directly through Iron Fist's chest.
Iron Fist's body staggered backward without cease, his face filled with shock and fury.
He was shocked because Ye Lin was even stronger than he had imagined. He was furious because Ye Lin still had not drawn his sword.
Ye Lin was clearly treating him as beneath notice.
He did not regard him as worthy at all.
Who the hell could endure that?!
"I'll kill you!"
Iron Fist roared, shooting arrow after arrow from his hand. But how much force could a hasty, offhand strike contain? Ye Lin smashed every one of them apart with a slap.
By now, the immortal power within Iron Fist had been almost entirely depleted. Even the dharma body of his Heaven-and-Earth Manifestation was gradually dimming, clearly on the verge of being unable to hold itself together.
But Ye Lin was different. Even now, the immortal power within him continued to surge without end—an inexhaustible supply, impossible to use up.
"Wind-Chasing, break!"
Iron Fist had been driven into a rage by Ye Lin. He drew the longbow in