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While Xuan Xing was stunned, Chen Fan said with contempt, “A Sage’s descendant? You’re nothing special!”
Moments after mocking Xuan Xing, Chen Fan charged forth like a stream of golden light.
His figure flickered elusively. No one could predict where he would appear in the next moment.
Bang, bang, bang…
He flashed repeatedly, striking where one least expected, landing dozens of punches on Xuan Xing, making him roar furiously.
“Your tortoise shell’s rather tough!”
Chen Fan furrowed his brow. Colorful lights danced around Xuan Xing’s immortal vest; it was a mid-grade immortal artifact at the very least. Otherwise, Xuan Xing would have been crying out in pain now.
“Damn it! You damned son of a bitch, how dare you look down on me! Eat my ultimate move!”
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