With a sharp clang of metal, Yan Yuwei was sent flying, spraying a fine mist of blood in midair.
In that fleeting moment, Xu Yunfan finally seized the opening, grabbing the elder's wrist and snapping it backward against the joint!
"CRACK!"
The sound of the breaking bone was drowned out by the battle cries that filled the tower.
The elder's dark-purple face flushed an even deeper shade. Veins bulged on his broken wrist as his five fingers clamped onto Xu Yunfan's pulse point like iron pincers, giving him no chance to rise and use his hammer.
'If he lets Xu Yunfan swing that hammer again, I won't be leaving here alive.'
The two rolled across the banquet hall, locked in close combat. They knocked over a copper hot pot, spilling boiling oil that created winding snakes of fire across the floor.
The struggle for every inch was a brush with death; every strike was a lethal blow.
