"Your companions have already gone ahead, so hurry and follow them!"
In the next instant, a formidable aura erupted from Ye Qingfeng's body, turning into a terrifying gale that ripped through the space before him. Ye Zhenkun was in the background, utterly shocked and speechless.
The Seven Generals of Myanmar turned pale with fright, and as they turned to flee, a golden fist shadow swept across.
The seven were in utter terror, yet the pressure of death unleashed their strongest power at the last moment.
The seven stood in a line, with each person placing their palms on the back of the person in front, passing spiritual power. The seven streams of spiritual power layered, surging forth like a tidal wave.
The golden fist shadow swept through, clashing with the spiritual power of the seven.
"Puh-wa!"
The seven simultaneously spewed blood, their spiritual power torn to nothing in an instant. The golden fist shadow pierced through, smashing the seven angrily into the ground.
