Yue Feng pursed his lips tightly, lifted his palms, silently circulated his True Qi, and a faint dragon's roar seemed to resound within him.
After fully channeling his True Qi, Yue Feng struck Zhao Heng's chest like a lightning bolt,
"Bang!"
A loud noise erupted.
Zhao Heng was sent flying by this palm strike, his feet scraping backward on the ground for seven or eight meters as he spat out blood with a "pfft".
His gaze towards Yue Feng was dazed and disbelieving.
He had thought that his Iron Cloth would easily block Yue Feng's Youlong Palm.
Never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated that it was not Youlong Palm at all, but the damn Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms!
The force of the palm was simply too powerful.
Yue Feng stood back, a cold smile towards Zhao Heng, "Looks like you're not that strong after all!"
Zhao Heng's face turned from red to white, utterly embarrassed.
