Upon closer inspection, it shockingly resembled the form of a hand.
In that dent, nine elite Qian Family Foundation Establishment True Cultivators had already been turned into a puddle of blood and mud, dead beyond redemption.
The Second Elder himself was kneeling on the ground, leaning on his sword, his hair disheveled.
He raised his head, blood streaming from all his orifices, his Qi Power chaotically fluctuating throughout his body, apparently shaken by that palm strike to the point his Golden Core was disturbed, and his Meridians shattered inch by inch.
In his vision, a figure was rapidly approaching like lightning.
"My life is over!"
At the same time, a sharp shout came from not far away.
"Spare him!"
This shout was accompanied by a peerlessly fierce slash of black sword light.
The Second Elder's face lit up with joy, the Clan Chief had arrived!
