Cloth Touching Eighteen Falls, in an instant, eighteen kinds of forces pushed and pulled, up and down, Qi penetrating, left and right surging; even a Vajra ox, if touched, could be flung into the sky.
"Good!"
Jiang Dali yelled, his momentum shifting, turning miserably cold and fierce, his hands forming Dragon Claws as he struck out, carrying a pungent, bloody scent as if an eagle dragon desiring to choose people and devour them, casting heavy claw shadows, powerful and sharp.
Bang bang! Clang clang! Pound pound!
In the blink of an eye, the two of them clashed like two wild beasts, striking so fiercely that the green floor tiles shattered and the ground shook.
A moment ago, Jiang Dali's massive body had been flung through the air by Cao Zhengchun's Cloth Touching Eighteen Falls Skill, smashing the ground into a cloud of dust.
