The impact was — nothing. Lin Feng's Core Formation punch, the killing move, the technique that could shatter stone and split iron — stopped. Against one finger. The qi blade dissolved on contact with Tianlong's divine qi. The energy dispersed. The force vanished.
Lin Feng's dark eyes widened. His fist — pressed against the ancestor's finger — trembled. His golden core was spinning at maximum, every meridian blazing, every ounce of his cultivation pouring into the strike.
Nothing. Not even a nudge.
Tianlong flicked his finger.
The impact sent Lin Feng flying. His body shot backward — across the hall, through the air, his blue robe whipping. He hit the far wall. The stone cracked. His body bounced. He hit the floor. He coughed — blood, thick and red, spraying from his mouth.
The hall was silent.
Elder Tianqing's voice — barely a whisper — broke the silence. "He — he reached peak Core Formation. Lin Feng's cultivation — it's peak Core Formation. When did he —"
