"Hahaha! I, Old Zhu, have succeeded!"
Zhu Mo leaped up, somersaulted nine and a half times in mid-air, landed on the back of his head, and scrambled up seeing stars, absolutely ecstatic.
He spread open his palm. A dull, murky azure light, meandering and viscous, flowed within. The strangely varied Lei Mang was like thick syrup.
This was quite different from Qi Xiu's Yang Thunder, which was wide-ranging and powerful, fiercely masculine, and embodied pure Yang to the extreme.
The Yin Thunder, primarily generated from the kidney's water-aspected yin qi, was more insidious and cold. Although weaker than the majestic and forthright Yang Thunder, it was harder to guard against and possessed an uncanny power to erode the mind and corrupt the will.
"You really know how to pick your moment. Today is the last day."
Seeing Zhu Mo master the Palm Thunder just in time, Qi Xiu and Yan Baizhe showed a trace of relief in their eyes.
