"Buddha is compassionate, why does the benefactor attack this monk?"
Chan Ning, the young monk, chanted a Buddhist mantra, raising his palm horizontally, perfectly flawless, with strands of golden light emanating from his arms crossed in front of his chest, blocking Zhong Lin's punch.
On the other side, Lan Ming's figure flew across hundreds of miles like a rainbow, his blood, like colored glass, splattering across the sky.
His arm trembled involuntarily, with his translucent bones exposed, but in just a breath, the wound completely healed.
"Ah! Die for me."
Lan Ming, having never suffered such an injury, roared in anger.
Boom!
Above the vast sky, lightning flashed and thunder roared. At the moment his will surged, the terrifying thunder shook the universe.
Lan Ming's slender, pale fingers moved like flowing water, forming a Fist Seal, and in a fraction of a moment, he punched out.
"Well met."
