Offending an Inner Palace disciple, who is also the son of the Northern Field Marshal; he’ll have his fair share of trouble later.”
Following Murong Ye’s pointed finger, Murong Yi glanced at Yun Che for a moment, then flew onto the stage in one jump. He eyed Yun Che coldly: “So you’re Yun Che?”
“That’s right.” Once he saw Murong Ye, Yun Che understood what had happened. Qin Wuyou had just informed him about Murong Ye’s cousin Murong Yi… Indeed, after he had beaten this useless scrap of wood up, he had exhibited the behavior of trash, and ran, crying and screaming, for help from someone more powerful.
“Were you the one who hit his face?” Murong Yi pointed at Murong Ye, and asked with a dark glare.
“That’s right, I was the one who hit him.” Yun Che admitted very calmly.
“Very good.” Murong Yi nodded slowly. His eyes suddenly flashed as his body charged forward, bringing about a violent gust of turbulent air. His right hand formed a claw, and grasped at Yun Che’s throat like an eagle.
Just as Murong Yi moved, a silhouette flashed from the side. Profound energy exploded outwards, and a palm slammed against Murong Yi’s right claw. With a “bang”, both people flew backwards. A “crack” sound resounded from the point they made contact, and the meter-tall stone stage directly split. A half-foot wide crack directly spread to the edge of the stage, splitting the stage right down the center.
A gust of profound energy spread outwards, nearly pushing Yun Che over. He was shocked in his heart: these were indeed Inner Palace disciples! Even the aftermath of their strikes contained such astonishing power.
Murong Yi landed on the edge of the stage and almost fell off. He suddenly raised his head, glared at the person who attacked him, and yelled: “Sikong Du, what do you mean by this!!”