Sword qi surged like a tide, sweeping in every direction.
In midair, the defiant old man's expression changed drastically.
"Li Xingzhi?!"
His eyes widened, his gray-white hair whipped wildly, and the chains on his wrists and ankles rattled with his trembling body. His arrogant swagger finally vanished, replaced by profound wariness and fear.
"You actually managed to summon Li Xingzhi's sword intent!"
Black vapor poured frantically from his body like floodwaters bursting through an opened sluice. It churned and gathered behind him, faintly forming the hideous, terrifying phantom of a Three-Headed, Six-Armed Demon God.
He raised his hand and struck with his palm.
The palm force roared, carrying savage power enough to shatter mountains and split peaks as it slammed toward the suspended giant stele.
The stone stele stood unshaken as a mountain, meeting the old man like a colossal sword holding up the heavens.
A second palm strike!
This time, black vapor thick as ink mingled with the palm force. Wherever it passed, even the air hissed strangely as it corroded.
The stone stele gave a thunderous, low hum, its runes flowing. The sheer pressure made Fan Dazhi's clenched palms slick with sweat.
The old man roared in fury, his hair exploding outward. Like a man possessed, he unleashed his third palm strike, concentrating all his true essence into it, along with the towering resentment and killing intent he had accumulated over decades.
The three palm strikes overlapped, changing the very countenance of heaven and earth.
Towering ancient trees crashed down in the aftermath of that savage force. Rocks rained down, and several bottomless fissures split the earth.
Just then, the stone stele slowly tilted, pointing toward the old man, and a flash of white light streaked out.
Pure sword intent, condensed to its utmost limit, erupted from the