Following Zhuo Dongming closely, he suddenly felt an extremely overpowering Inner Strength enter from his back, the same lineage of Pure Yang Inner Strength, which without any pause, struck out directly through the palm of his hand.
A gust of wind suddenly arose around them, and the Youquan Sect master really seemed like a blood sphere that was fiercely kicked, flying backward.
While the blood sphere was still in mid-air, the blood-colored robe enveloping him was already cracking inch by inch, turning into fragments falling from the sky.
The blood-colored figure somersaulted several times in succession before finally landing gracefully on a rooftop.
Looking up, his face now bore a mask, which had appeared at some unknown time.
Beneath the mask, his eyes flickered uncertainly:
"Who is it?"
Su Mo, from behind Zhuo Dongming, tilted his head and peeked out: "Is the Sect Master still well?"
"...Is it you!?"
The Youquan Sect master was both shocked and angry.
