Under the gaze of countless disbelieving eyes, the scene of the blade and fist striking each other seemed to happen in slow motion.

Ye Qingyu's fist, advanced further inch by inch. It was like he had struck a log of rotten wood. The golden blade that was at the pinnacle of a Treasure tool was turned into smithereens bit by bit. There were formations flickering on the edge of the blade, and disappeared like a snapped chain. It dimmed and was destroyed, disappearing in the ...