Compared to the giant hand that blocked out the sky, the two magic bullets shot by Zheng Qing were like tiny needles made of ox hair.
No, from an onlooker's perspective, within a larger range of view, those two magic bullets and their trajectory seemed like two specks of dust under the giant hand, almost non-existent.
But their effect was undoubtedly unquestionable.
Crack!
A continuous sound, like silk tearing, came from the air.
It was the sound of the momentum of the descending giant hand being torn apart. The two magic bullets, though seemingly slow, were actually fast. In the blink of an eye, they broke through the ocean-like momentum and appeared at the edge of the giant hand.
But as Su Shijun had speculated earlier, compared to the momentum and force accumulated by the descending giant hand, the two magic bullets were indeed too small. They barely reached the edge of the giant hand and exhausted most of their magic power.
Of course, they had not made a futile effort.
