They had already arrived; Wu Zhongtao calmed his heart spirit, avoiding overthinking.
He could win by relying on his own strength.
Slowly approaching, a great storm surged around Wu Zhongtao.
The gigantic bear form swelled again, with qi blood like a dragon winding through its meridians. Waves of tangible oppressive momentum erupted, completely tearing apart the dilapidated shops on both sides of the road.
Dark light spread, and muscles as hard as black iron flexed as he swung his arms.
Out of thin air, he grasped a massive Ghost Head Saber, with malevolent energy soaring between particle amalgamations—it was evidently a fourth-grade divine weapon!
He pressed the weight of the saber, dragging it along the ground as he gathered momentum.
