"You ants! You have three seconds to get out of my way, or don't blame this emperor for showing no mercy!"
Jin Dongni roared with arrogance and contempt, as though everyone before him were no more than worthless blades of grass.
Though Ying Ming Hao and the others had strength in numbers, in his eyes they were merely a swarm of ants that posed no threat whatsoever.
Brimming with confidence, he believed a casual sweep of his palm would be enough to send them all flying into the distance.
"Three..."
"Two..."
"One..."
As the countdown ended, Jin Dongni struck without hesitation.
A cruel smile curled his lips as he abruptly raised his right hand and swept it viciously toward the crowd, carrying a fierce gust of wind.
The palm strike surged with tremendous force. The wind howled like raging ghosts, making the surrounding air thrum and blasting straight against everyone's cheeks.
At that critical instant, a figure flashed out like a phantom, placing himself directly in the path of Jin Dongni's attack.
It was Elder He of the Misty Sect. His steps were steady, his demeanor calm, as though he had been waiting for this very moment.
"My, my, Fellow Daoist Jin, why fly into such a rage?
We all cross paths regularly. Surely we can talk things through!
Why don't we find somewhere to sit down and have a proper discussion? Wouldn't that be better?"
As Elder He spoke, he extended his slightly ruddy old hands. With a seemingly casual grab, he firmly caught Jin Dongni's devastating palm, preventing it from moving so much as an inch.
After all, Elder He was the Misty Sect's Third Elder. His strength was unfathomable, and he was no ordinary man.
Besides, seeing the sect's disciples fight so desperately to protect Jin