89 The Final Battle

“Ling Xian, first round, take my fist!”

The call for battle echoed throughout the city streets and up through the clouds.

Ye Xiao Tian’s emerald robe danced in the wind. Concentrating all his power in his fist, he took the first strike.

A violent windstorm rushed in seemingly out of nowhere.

“Come at me!”

Ling Xian roared with laughter. Without flinching one bit at the incoming threat, Ling Xian struck back with his own fist.

“Hommmmm!”

Two rock-solid fists collided in midair. Instantly, thick clouds of smoke erupted all around them, contaminating the clear evening sky with debris.

“Tung, tung, tung…”

Both fell backward three steps. The first round had ended in a draw.

Ling Xian glared at his emotionless opponent and said, “Not bad, worthy of the title indeed.”