Tang Wulin's aura rose only slightly, not even fully released, when the young master opposite him seemed to be struck head-on by something. His legs gave way, and he staggered back two steps before his back slammed into the trunk of the plane tree behind him with a thud.
His gaze locked onto Tang Wulin's right hand at his side. His pupils suddenly contracted, and a shrill, distorted cry escaped his throat. "Clear Sky Hammer! That's the Clear Sky Hammer!"
Tang Wulin glanced down at the heavy black hammer in his palm. Not even a Soul Ring had lit up on its surface; it simply hovered there in silence, gleaming with the cold sheen unique to metal.
He curled his lips, lifted his chin, and gestured to the two Outer Court disciplinary disciples who had long been waiting nearby. "Take him away. Keep the evidence safe. Later, we'll have a good talk with that elder from the Nine Treasure Glazed Sect and see whether he knows what his juniors have been doing outside."
The two disciples stepped forward at once, each seizing one arm of the still-trembling young master.
With both arms twisted high behind him, his body was nearly forced to his knees.
His mouth opened and closed, as though he wanted to invoke some other name to bolster his courage. But the moment his eyes met the hammer in Tang Wulin's hand, every word lodged in his throat.
Tang Wulin walked over slowly and stopped in front of him. With a light flick of his boot tip, neither too hard nor too soft, he raised the other man's chin and forced him to look up.
He leaned down slightly. His voice was neither loud nor soft, yet every word was clear. "Tell me, what do you think would