I Don't Want a Son Like You

The mine tunnel was narrow,

and now it was choked with pungent smoke and dust.

Niu Erlang kept the Seventh Rank Martial Artist occupied as they fought farther and farther away, gradually leaving the council hall.

Chen Qi of the Qingshan Escort Agency had also wanted to leave this foul, smoke-filled cave, but Zhou Yingjun, blinded by rage, held him tightly in place.

Boom!

A burst of Internal Force, like a thunderbolt splitting the heavens, exploded deep within the mine tunnel.

That was another battlefield.

Zhou Yingjun heard it, and his heart clenched with urgency.

To hold back that final Eighth Rank Martial Artist, Lu Sandao and the others were risking their lives.

But this was already the second explosion of Internal Force.

Before he realized it, his eyes had grown wet.

Su Xinghe's sudden sneak attack sent the Peaceful Heaven Sect's Grade-Eight Martial Artist, who had been dealing a killing blow, flying far away. Though he had not delayed, three people still fell into pools of blood.

Without time to check on them, he stirred his dantian and charged out again.

That ambush punch just now had already used all his strength.

Not only had he triggered a thread of Internal Force in his dantian, he had also used the two-and-a-half-fold exertion granted by the secret art of the Listening to Tides Art.

It had landed solidly against the man's back.

It should have punched straight through him, yet the feedback from his fist had felt terrible. Coupled with the fact that the man had been blasted away rather than pierced through, it was clearly not a good sign.

He had to rush over and deliver another punch.

Sure enough, before he even arrived, the man swiftly rolled to his feet within his spiritual perception and assumed a