Chapter 97: Brilliantly Breaking the Old Fist, Gun Appears

The saber was like a crescent moon.

The crescent moon was like a saber.

Facing the nine mournful, screeching arcs of blood moons slicing through the sky, Yang Zhong didn't change his expression; his gaze remained calm. His legs were firm as stakes, his fists steady, as he threw ten punches in all directions.

Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding…

Like jade beads falling on a dish, like a blacksmith forging a sword—the nine strange sounds reverberated. His simple, solid punches knocked down the haughty, soaring blood moons to the mortal realm.

The last punch hit air.

Although it hit air, Xie Tian's pupils shrunk slightly, and without a moment's hesitation, he twisted his body to the side. His blood-filled eyes coldly watched a solid gust of Inner Qi slash across his chest. It flew backward ten feet before the air exploded and a booming sound erupted, turning the flipped air into a fierce wind that extinguished the six torches within a fifteen-foot radius.