SHH! SHH! SHH!
On the arena stage, Mo Chen seemed slightly surprised that Fang Han could block his attack, but that surprise vanished in a flash. His eyes returned to their usual placid calm.
He thrust out both hands, unleashing a continuous flurry of attacks.
In an instant, the sound of something tearing through the air was incessant.
Flying Sabers, Flying Needles, and even tiny Tetrahedral Darts, all condensed from Inner Qi, descended upon Fang Han like a sudden storm, coming at him from all sorts of difficult angles.
These Hidden Weapons varied in shape and moved at astonishing speeds. More terrifyingly, their trajectories were unpredictable, and they subtly formed an encircling net, sealing off all of Fang Han's room to dodge.
Facing this overwhelming offensive, Fang Han took a deep breath, a glint of coldness flashing through his eyes.
'A head-on clash is definitely not the best strategy.'
