But at this moment, the black-robed man could no longer speak.
He was barely hanging onto his last breath.
And just as this scene had only just unfolded.
The eight Divine Bone Martial Saints moved.
They charged in, wrapped in viscous black liquid thick enough to devour light.
Fang Qingyu's expression was as calm as a bottomless pool; his right fist, sheathed in Star Point Tribulation Crystal, slowly rose, fingers curling in.
"Heavenly Patrol... Shattering Stars!"
He threw a punch; starlight detonated.
The blood-colored Space became a frozen Hell suddenly hurled into a blazing sun.
The surging black liquid instantly lost all vitality, turning into filthy raindrops that pattered down.
The eight Demon God-like figures were violently blasted away by the overwhelming force.
Yan Lin's figure suddenly surfaced ten meters away, eyes beneath the silver mask filled with a complexity beyond words.
"That punch... you really have left me far behind."
