Rising Blood Mist

Zhang Ruochen attacked him again without saying anything.

"Nine-folds of Elephant Power!"

The shadow of the Martial Soul seemed almost integrated with Zhang Ruochen's body. The Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi converged in his palm, exploding out with a nine-fold attacking force.

The nine Qi billows, like nine water waves, gathered in front of Zhang Ruochen's palm and formed a six-meter-long illusory image of a holy elephant.

"HOWL!"

As the power of the handprint was cast, the howl of a savage beast sounded, which shook the underground Secret Room and made pieces of broken stone fall from it.

Hua Qingye had to take this seriously. He spread his legs, bent his knees slightly, and did a horse stance. Then he suddenly punched out with a fist technique.