"Bang!"
A dull thud, like a train crashing hard against a wall.
Along with this sound, a gust of wind blew past Du Chuan's face, stinging him as if cut by a knife.
Du Chuan himself is a martial artist, and he knows this is the whirlwind created by a fist.
In fact, some descriptions in martial arts novels are not fictitious. When a person's fist is fast enough, and the strength is powerful enough, it can really kill with the wind generated by the punch.
A normal person simply cannot withstand the strong impact of the punch wind.
If just the punch wind is so unbearable, then what of Jiang Chuan, who bore the full frontal impact from Pala?
Head cracked and bleeding? Bones shattering and muscles tearing?
Du Chuan dare not imagine.
Du Chuan's eyes were tightly shut, and around him, it was deathly quiet.
Du Chuan surmised that everyone must have been shocked by Pala's strength, and Jiang Chuan, at the very least, was seriously injured.
