Defeating Zhang San, a Volunteer to Make an Example Of

His thigh and calf muscles drove together, unleashing a burst of tremendous force. His foot tore through the air toward Tang Shan's chest.

Just as the kick was about to land, Tang Shan's body changed in a bizarre way.

Tang Shan exhaled deeply. His chest suddenly caved inward, as though his ribs and organs had vanished. The entire area sank back, narrowly avoiding the powerful kick.

Whoosh!

The gust swept past his clothes. The kick had power to spare, yet it missed by an inch. That inch might as well have been a chasm: Zhang San spent all his strength and caught nothing but fabric.

The instant his kick missed, Zhang San lost his balance and rhythm. His Qi and Blood churned, and his body stiffened until he could barely move.

Tang Shan gave him no chance to recover.

Seeing the opening, Tang Shan turned his wrist and drove a fist upward at Zhang San's jaw. Before the punch arrived, its sharp gust swept across Zhang San's cheek.

Bang!

Zhang San reacted quickly, crossing his arms and bracing downward just in time to block. The force still numbed both arms and hurled him backward and upward, leaving him with nothing to push against in midair.

Before they learned to fly, most fighters relied on the ground to attack and defend. Losing contact with it meant losing the foundation for both, leaving them exposed to whatever came next.

Tang Shan saw his chance. He kicked off hard enough to crack the ground and sprang toward the airborne Zhang San like a tiger pouncing on its prey.

His fists opened into claws, index fingers rigid as blades. One hand struck for the throat while the other shot toward the chest. The attacks flowed together, sealing off every angle of escape.

Zhang San's