For a moment, the entire venue fell silent.
Even Zhang Qiuse himself broke out in a cold sweat.
This move was already one of his strongest techniques. Yet Xu Zimo had not even moved, simply standing there and letting him attack.
And still, Zhang Qiuse could do nothing to him.
He swallowed hard. Seeing Xu Zimo raise a hand, he instinctively took several steps back.
Then, seeming to realize he had shown too much cowardice, his expression shifted between dark and pale.
"One move," Xu Zimo said flatly.
"If you can withstand it, I'll spare your life."
"Stop boasting. If you have any skills, use them," Zhang Qiuse snorted coldly.
Though he said that, he did not dare let down his guard in the slightest.
Spiritual energy continuously surged from his hand.
It was as though endless flames poured from within his body, illuminating his face a fiery red.
Below the training ground, several elders looked toward Bian Wenzhou.
Someone cautiously asked, "Mansion Lord, should we stop this?"
Everyone could already see that Zhang Qiuse's defeat was inevitable.
If they did not stop it, he would truly lose.
And it would be Black Crow Mansion that lost face.
Moreover, none of them wanted Xu Zimo to win.
"A loss is a loss. What?
Do you want outsiders to say that we cannot afford to lose?" Bian Wenzhou asked, narrowing his eyes.
The surrounding people fell silent as cicadas in winter, not daring to speak again.
Xu Zimo extended his right hand, and a powerful force gathered in his palm.
He did not use any technique.
Because his opponent was simply unworthy.
It was merely an ordinary palm strike, yet to Zhang Qiuse, it was as dangerous as jackals, tigers, and leopards.
Every hair on his body stood on