Riding the whistling wind, its sharp horn aimed straight for Yang Jing's chest, threatening to impale him on the spot.
Yang Jing's expression remained unchanged in the face of the black bull's ferocious charge. His footwork suddenly quickened, and with the ethereal grace of a phantom, he dodged to the side. His movements were so light and fast that they left only a faint afterimage of his green robe.
He had long since mastered the Stormy Wave Legs to the Transformation realm. His Body Technique was fluid and graceful, far surpassing that of other Martial Artists at his level. In his eyes, the bull's seemingly ferocious charge was riddled with openings.
The instant he sidestepped the Single-Horned Black Bull's charge, Yang Jing lowered his stance. Inner Strength surged through him as he clenched his right fist and, without hesitation, swung it at the bull's thick neck.
