"Boom—"
Zhao Pu punched down, and the white tiger phantom roared.
A 10-meter radius was filled with sharp sword light.
Although it was a fist wind, it was a sword shadow!
The three figures on the other side dispersed and faced the sword light from three directions.
Among the three of them, one was holding a short sword, one was holding a long sword, and the other was holding a black iron fan that emitted a faint spiritual light.
The three of them were close to each other and worked together. Sword light scattered, neutralizing Zhao Pu's fist wind.
The three of them had yet to reach the Earth Realm, but when faced with Zhao Pu, they were not afraid. Instead, they faced him head-on.
"Slash—"
The young man with the short sword moved and rushed in front of Zhao Pu. The short sword silently stabbed at Zhao Pu's ribs.