Fast-seemingly faster than a flash of lightning.
The light abruptly went out. Lian Youming's mind jolted, and his vision suddenly darkened. Even the Mountain-Guarding Old Man's face vanished in the shifting light and shadow as he sprang up, becoming an indescribably swift blur.
Lian Youming narrowed his eyes sharply, straining his sight. He dimly made out a fist smashing through the cloud of dust bursting before him, then stopping beside his right cheek, level with the corner of his eye.
A skeletal hand had reached out from behind Lian Youming and caught the punch.
Fist met palm, and force surged wildly, making his eyelids twitch and his breath catch.
Both men actually practiced the Toad-Fishing Skill.
It seemed this man really did have a deep connection with Gan Xuantong. Perhaps he was one of the Eight Banners Nobility from the Qing Dynasty.
But after that brief shock, Lian Youming's gaze sharpened. There was no apprehension in his eyes, no hesitation or fear. On the contrary, there was even a trace of relief. He had not entered this place blindly.
Since the Mountain-Guarding Old Man intended to lure his enemy in, he was naturally in a passive position. And after such a long stalemate, it looked clear that this formidable enemy was deliberately stalling. This was precisely why Lian Youming had initially worried that the two would move their battlefield.
The Mountain-Guarding Old Man was about to lose his power. He was already running on his last reserves. The longer this dragged on, the more death gathered around him and the slimmer his chances became. How much longer could he hold out? That was why Lian Youming had risked his life to investigate, and why he felt relieved: he had been right to come.
More importantly, he had arrived first and