Rain poured down in torrents. Through the dense curtain of rain, a figure crashed out sideways amid exploding bricks and stone.
Boom!
Amid the flying rubble, Lian Youming shifted his feet with extraordinary speed, his gaze particularly grave.
Almost simultaneously.
Facing the figure lunging in for the kill, he shook his right arm and smashed out a punch.
An overwhelmingly ferocious hammering force churned through wind and rain, meeting the vicious knife-hand before him.
The curtain of rain abruptly parted. A figure flashed out as though lifting a curtain, suddenly appearing within arm's reach from the blurred rain and swirling dust. A bare palm struck sideways through the rain, its momentum that of a swiftly slashing blade, fierce and ruthless. As the palm turned, rainwater actually spun in whorls around it. With a flick of the hand, the sound of air splitting like tearing silk mingled with the wind and rain, swift as thunder.
But just as it reached him, everything froze again.
Lian Youming had thrust out his right arm, his fist suspended in midair, yet Gan Xuantong stood upon his arm as lightly as a sparrow alighting, light as a feather. He stood proudly and looked down, his eyes filled with contempt.
An ant he once could not even be bothered to glance at now actually dared to fight him to the death.
You don't know your own limits.
One above and one below, one high and one low, the two heard a cold, eerie laugh ring through the rain.
"An ant trying to shake a tree, and you think you're fit to throw punches? You might hold your own in a contest of force, but in a contest of moves, you're certain to die."
Beneath the wind and rain filling the sky, even Lian Youming's pupils trembled