Gan Hao

"Even if I'm no match for you, don't think you'll get away unscathed!" The voice of the figure being forced into retreat came from the center of the battle, hoarse with the desperation of someone driven into a corner.

Most of his sleeve had been shredded, and blood seeped from a wound on his left arm. His aura had weakened considerably from before, yet his voice remained as stiff as ever.

To be honest, watching from behind a boulder five hundred meters away, Lin Yi felt that Qian Ling's mouth was truly hard.

Gan Hao hovered in midair opposite him, looking as relaxed as if he were taking a stroll. Not even his robes had wrinkled; their exchange had clearly put no pressure on him at all.

"Qian Ling," Gan Hao said, in the tone one might use on a stray dog by the roadside, "don't make me laugh."

"You—"

"With that little strength of yours, die."

As Gan Hao's words fell, his Blood-Qi suddenly surged.

With a stomp, the ground beneath him cracked apart. He shot forward and punched straight at Qian Ling's face. The punch was so fast that it dragged a white streak through the air, Blood-Qi rolling over his fist like a tide.

Qian Ling's pupils contracted, but he did not dodge again. He stood where he was as the Blood-Qi around him suddenly boiled, like water splashed into a pot of searing oil.

The Blood-Qi in his meridians began burning wildly in an almost self-destructive manner, every blood vessel erupting with visible red light.

"You forced me..." Qian Ling's voice trembled low and deep, each word squeezed out between clenched teeth. "Even if Father Emperor asks, you were the one who started it!"

His aura began rising at a furious pace.

The Blood-Burning Secret Art