"The Seventy-two Split Sky Palm, one palm after another, like an unending flood, with each palm's power stacking, until the final palm, almost shattering heaven and earth, how will Lin Mo handle this?"
In the arena, fierce handprints filled the sky, like a giant oar stirring the ocean-like True Yuan, bursting shockwaves of True Yuan, causing the light shrouding the arena to ripple, along with the solid ground of the arena extending several cracks.
Lin Mo, engulfed in the shadows of the palms, naturally could feel the sharp wind from the palms, with each palm's power greater than the last.
Teng Yi held nothing back, wanting to quickly settle this opponent, Lin Mo, maintaining a good state to face the next battle.
Thus, in everyone's eyes, Lin Mo seemed almost crushed by Teng Yi with an overwhelming advantage, beaten into a 'continuous retreat.'
