Saint Lord

Ying Teng was trampled by Qin Wentian underneath his foot. His prestige and face was completely gone. His eyes flared with fire, and just as the immortal might of his immortal foundation was about to erupt forth, Qin Wentian stomped down once again, jolting him so badly that he had no opportunity to use immortal energy to attack. He could only lie there, allowing Qin Wentian to trample on him freely.

"Qin Wentian. I, Ying Teng, vow that I will make you suffer a fate worse than death." Ying Teng was a prideful individual, a heaven chosen of the ancient Ying Clan with a lofty status. He had never suffered so much humiliation before.

"BOOM!" Another stomp slammed down. Ying Teng felt his inner organs were on the very verge of shattering, as he danced to and fro around the boundary of life and death. This torment was unable to activate the protective immortal sense on him. Qin Wentian had excellent control on his strength.