"Whoosh..."
Ling Feng's expression changed.
He felt the force of his right palm vanish like a clay ox sinking into the sea, utterly swallowed by something, without even the echo of a rebound.
Lin Shisan's fist struck his chest a moment later.
With a muffled thud, Ling Feng flew backward thirty or forty zhang.
His feet plowed two deep furrows through the bluestone platform, and he only just stopped at the edge of the Martial Arts Arena. A large patch of his robe had shattered over his chest, exposing reddened skin beneath. Though it had not broken the skin, the impact sent a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
The stands fell silent for a moment.
"Taotie Fist... what kind of fist technique is that?"
"Never seen it."
"I think I saw something like it recorded in a fragmentary text. It seemed to be a Divine Ability of ancient body cultivators..."
Ling Sheng braced his hands on his knees and straightened, then wiped the corner of his mouth. His gaze on Lin Shisan grew a little more grave than before.
He said nothing more, merely forming a more complicated ethereal seal slowly before him with both hands.
Ling Sheng's aura abruptly surged. Silver-white spiritual power poured out like a tide, forming a layer of translucent armor around him. The instant his foot came down, the bluestone platform shattered again, and he shot toward Lin Shisan like an arrow loosed from its bow.
"Ling Household secret art, Silver Armor Breaks the Army!"
This strike was entirely different from the last. Ling Sheng was enveloped in silver-white spiritual power, like a greatsword driving straight ahead. Wherever he passed, the void shrieked as though being torn apart. He no longer sought finesse in his moves, relying solely on spiritual power