"You’re courting death!"
The youth’s eyebrows twitched, and he shot an icy glare, his lips curled in a mocking sneer.
A Xiantian cultivator attacking a King’s Realm cultivator?
Does he know how limited his strength is?
Is this some kind of a joke?
The self-proclaimed servant of a god laughed coldly, and a golden light began radiating from his body.
That light rapidly receded inwards, cloaking his body like a golden armour.
Then, he pointed with a finger towards Chu Yu’s incoming fist.
He was confident that a finger was more than sufficient to block the attack.
A deluded Xiantian Qi cultivator battling a King’s Realm cultivator — does Chu Yu not realise that the difference in power was simply too great?
This finger, a reflection of terrifying power, suppressed Chu Yu like an insurmountable mountain.
It was even more terrifying because there were no ripples of power throughout the tiny dining room.
This required a precise mastery over the level of one’s power.