High in the sky, a heart-pounding chase was underway.
One of the figures was a bald old man. Clad in a blood-red robe and radiating killing intent, he flew with a grim expression, striking the empty air before him with his palm again and again. Each blast of Palm Qi seemed to collide with an invisible barrier a dozen meters away, exploding violently...
The bald old man had lost count of how many times he had struck. He was utterly shocked—shocked by Qin Ya's seemingly immortal and tireless state. An ordinary Celestial Human would have undoubtedly died from even a single one of his palm strikes.
And yet, judging by his Cultivation, Qin Ya was merely a Sky-Controlling Martial Artist. His combat strength was extraordinary, but there was no way he could take so many of his attacks and remain unharmed. There was only one explanation: he possessed some incredibly powerful life-saving techniques. 'Damn it, this kid's trump cards are endless!'
