Ling Han released a battle cry, his figure charging out, completely ignoring the soul slash that had been unleashed by the Death Scythe.
"Reckless and foolish!" Fei Yun smirked coldly.
The slash of the Death Scythe arrived. Weng, Ling Han's robes fluttered by themselves, and it was to a very great extent at that. A few corners of his robes had been directly torn, even.
It should be known that the robes he was wearing were nothing ordinary, but rather something woven from the combination of Pseudo-Divine Metal and Divine Silk, possessing astonishing defense, but now a corner of theirs had actually been torn. This really was extremely terrifying.
But what was more terrifying was Ling Han. He charged over, completely unaffected, his punch aiming straight for Fei Yun's face.
'What?!'
Fei Yun's mouth gaped, soundlessly saying this word, and his eyes were filled with a strong disbelief.