The gale roared like ten thousand fierce beasts, the Gang Wind spun like countless blades.
Fragments of stone and withered leaves formed a rapidly spinning death noose around the palm print, emitting a teeth-grating shriek.
Yet Lu Xuan remained standing with his hands behind his back, the robe with black python patterns fluttering wildly in the storm, only a barely noticeable fine crease between his brows.
His eyes flashed with a cold brilliance, like two extraordinary icy souls.
A bone-chilling cold spread along Lu Xuan's gaze, causing the air it touched to coalesce into fine ice crystals.
In the next moment, a layer of frost-white Gang Qi suddenly surged up around Lu Xuan, forming a crystalline, transparent layer of ice on the surface of his body.
It collided head-on with the descending blue giant palm, the resulting explosion of sound shook the world to a standstill.
"Cold..."
"So cold…."
