"How could this be? How could you be this strong? How could there be such a powerful cultivator in this world?"
In the Heaven-Equaling Dynasty, Venerable Mo Xing clutched his chest, staring at Ye Lin before him with utter shock written across his face.
He had never imagined that Ye Lin would be this powerful.
With only a single exchange, he had been severely injured and completely stripped of any ability to resist.
He could tell that Ye Lin was not at the fourth level of the Quasi-Saint Realm—not even at the third level—but why was he so powerful?
He had seen countless experts, but all those experts had called him an expert.
He had remained at the third level of the Quasi-Saint Realm for far too long. He had thought that, within the third level of the Quasi-Saint Realm, aside from that old bastard, he would never find another opponent.
Yet Ye Lin's slap had sent him straight back to reality.
How could there be someone so powerful in this world?
"I told you, you're weak—so weak that I don't even have any interest in making a move."
"If you die beneath my sword, you'll stain it. But dying by my hand is your honor."
"Die."
Ye Lin's face was cold and indifferent.
Looking at the horrified Venerable Mo Xing, Ye Lin did not waste another word. He simply brought down his palm.
It looked like an incomparably casual palm strike, but in Venerable Mo Xing's eyes, it was a strike brimming with boundless killing intent, one that left him unable to summon even the slightest thought of resistance.
Against this palm, he did not even want to resist.
He could not block it. He absolutely could not block it.
This palm was too strong—too strong, far too strong.