If truly pressed down by the opponent's palm, then everyone present today will become a laughingstock!
Jing Qiu pressed his palm down, wanting to weigh the caliber of the disciples present.
"Oh?"
Jing Qiu's eyes revealed an unusual color as he looked at the figure with a broken mirror hovering above its head.
The broken mirror seemed damaged, yet it conveyed a sense of natural Daoist skill, full of ancient charm, intertwining a "Dao" beyond Dharma.
At this moment, a stream of divine light shot out, with no earth-shattering sound, merely as calm as water, resembling a cloud drifting gently by, yet bringing Jing Qiu a chilling sensation.
This divine light also involved some of the formidable power of time!
Jing Qiu's eyes narrowed, sidestepping to avoid the divine light, while retracting his palm into a fist, his originally misty aura abruptly transforming.
