The grand hall, built with warm jade, had a simple and dignified facade, but now it was riddled with more than a dozen holes, looking both ridiculous and absurd.
More than a dozen senior elders of the sect had been beaten and were rolling on the ground like gourds. They hadn't even had the chance to release their Yan power, and they lay in the hall like toppled old dogs, utterly silent.
Silence, a deafening silence.
Nearly 1,000 disciples who had come to the front of the Shangjun Grand Hall witnessed this scene, completely dumbfounded.
Their elders, who were highly respected and had unfathomable strength, had actually been beaten into rolling gourds?
Gu Ting was flabbergasted. He even tried hard to blink his eyes, trying to see if it was an illusion.
This was simply unimaginable. Just a single slap had sent more than ten Yan Immortals flying. Looking at it, even a Quasi-Grand Yan Immortal probably couldn't achieve such a feat!