While Fang Han was besieged by disciples from the Thunderlight Pavilion and the Red Flame Sect, Xue Yuanlang struck at him again with his palm.
Fang Han's pupils constricted. He had no time to think and hastily raised the Cloud Splitting Sword horizontally before him.
"CLANG—!"
Palm and sword met, erupting in a dull clang of metal.
A terrifyingly immense force traveled up the sword's blade. Fang Han felt his entire right arm instantly go numb, and his feet slid back involuntarily, carving two deep grooves in the ground.
He slid back for more than ten meters before he barely managed to regain his footing.
The qi and blood in his body churned, and a sweet taste rose in his throat, but he forcefully suppressed it.
Before he could even steady himself, the sound of rushing air rose from all directions.
"SWISH, SWISH, SWISH!"
