Yang Meng and Bai Qi were separated by a hundred steps, their eyes meeting from afar. As his bone marrow resonated with a tremor, his blood qi seemed to have been squeezed dry and suddenly surged wildly. His face, resembling dried bark, seemed to be smoothed over bit by bit, revealing an odd appearance of vitality.
Crack, crack!
The tendons of his waist and back stretched straight, causing his originally not very tall, average build to grow taller by an inch or so, exuding a towering momentum.
For an ordinary second-level practitioner, facing hard bows and feathered arrows, the momentum would certainly be weaker, cautiously wary.
The fists and kicks of a practitioner are ultimately not as practical as weapons, at least in the levels of Muscle Training and Bone Training it's the case.
