Shen Que's expression finally changed. He crossed his arms before him, and blood-colored law condensed over them into a thick, blood-colored shield wall.
The golden fist phantom slammed into the shield wall, making the entire Arena shudder violently. Cracks spread across the blood-colored wall, but it did not shatter.
But Liu Madman's assault did not stop. His left hand threw a punch at the same time, sending a second golden fist phantom hurtling in right behind the first, followed by a third, a fourth, and a fifth.
He was like a tireless, crazed pile driver, his fists hammering out in turns, every punch carrying the terrifying power he had gained by sacrificing his own blood.
Golden fist phantoms pounded Shen Que's blood-colored shield wall like a torrential downpour.
Every punch burst into a shower of golden light, which splashed onto the stone floor of the Arena and left dense clusters of golden scorch marks.
The relentless, frenzied assault drove Shen Que backward, his feet carving two deep furrows in the ground.
His expression remained composed, with not a trace of panic in his blood-red eyes, but he now understood that this madman was fighting with his life on the line.
Every punch burned his own blood. Every punch consumed his own lifespan.
This way of fighting inflicted a thousand wounds on the enemy at the cost of eight hundred to himself.
But he had to admit that this crazed approach was effective.
The cracks in the blood-colored shield wall grew more numerous and densely packed until, finally, Liu Madman unleashed his fifteenth punch.
The blood-colored shield wall shattered with a thunderous crash, scattering blood-colored fragments through the air.
Shen Que gave a muffled grunt as the residual force of the punch drove him back several steps. The golden Martial Dao