After the gust of the punch passed, the magnificent hall lay in shambles.
The powerful gust had blown the curtain of rain outside the doors askew. Seeing their manor lord blasted away by a single punch, the charging disciples of Iron River Manor hurriedly retreated in terror.
Thud, thud, thud...
Ye Jingtang stood in the center of the hall in his black robe, surrounded by slumped sect leaders and dozens of disciples with shock in their eyes.
Having just walked past the gates of death, Guang Hanlin was somewhat puzzled as to how Ye Silang had become so terrifying in barely a month. But he had no time to dwell on it. With his disciples supporting him, he got up, withdrew, and quickly took an antidote.
Guan Yujia leaned against the wall, a trace of startled uncertainty in his eyes as well. After a brief silence, he straightened and casually patted his ruined robe.
"An excellent Thunder God Eight Extremes. Nephew Ye, you certainly hid your abilities well."
His voice brought everyone in the hall back to their senses. The sect leaders and their disciples quickly withdrew toward the entrance.
Ye Jingtang had originally wanted to discuss cooperation with Guan Yujia, hoping to find a way to discover Prince Wu's whereabouts or trick him into revealing the formula for Snow Lake Powder.
Now that they had come to blows, there was naturally nothing left to discuss.
"Manor Lord Guan, your title of Little Fist Champion seems rather undeserved."
"Heh..."
Guan Yujia gave a lukewarm chuckle, rolled his neck to loosen his muscles, and walked slowly toward the center of the hall.
"You seemed quite sensible earlier, so I wasn't on guard against you. Even an all-out punch delivered by surprise failed to hurt me in the slightest. I'm afraid you're