Qingmu watched as Zhou Fan approached step by step. With every footfall, his battle intent grew stronger, to the point where it seemed to transform the darkness behind him into a faint golden hue. For the first time, a rare look of gravity appeared in Qingmu's eyes.
Just as Zhou Fan had guessed, the reason Qingmu hadn't attacked immediately was that he was suppressing the turbulent Inner Strength within his body.
"It seems you're quite confident in this next sword strike. In that case, I will let you die by the very blade that gives you such confidence. Consider it my respect for a strong young warrior!"
Qingmu composed himself, tapped his toe lightly on the ground, and leaped into mid-air. He thrust out both hands, launching nine consecutive palm strikes at Zhou Fan. Each strike manifested a massive palm print formed from Inner Strength, each one a full ten feet tall!
