Zhang Taiyan had just been momentarily careless, charging in for a close encounter with a palm strike.
But he hadn't expected the opponent to be so fierce.
The punch that came crashing down was like the collapse of Mount Yun; the endless, boundless force hit overwhelmingly fast, giving him no time to react.
His right arm had already turned into a bloody mess of flesh and bone, utterly destroyed.
If he hadn't rapidly retreated to dissipate the remaining force, he likely would have been completely shattered by that punch, dead on the spot.
With his right arm ruined and his body severely injured,
he felt a heart-piercing pain as his eyes turned blood-red.
