Boom!
Amidst the roars, visible sound waves surged forth, covering the sky and the ground, lifting a layer of the surface. Dust scattered, and the thousand-zhang tall wall of Qi and Blood swayed like smoke from a village chimney, quivering for a moment.
The attacking warriors fell to the ground like rolling balls, temporarily deafened.
The hems of their clothes fluttered.
Thirty percent of the flags in the army were broken.
Sand and stones scraped their faces. Liang Qu felt an unbearable discomfort in his chest, as if he had choked while eating, with a burst of gas traveling from his stomach to his windpipe, stuck in between, unable to go up or down.
Martial Saint!
Young Dragon Martial Saint!
The pillar of the nation!
Northern Court Wolf Lord!
It wouldn't have mattered if he hadn't roamed the north before, but now that he was attacking the city, the most notable Martial Saint should be well known.
