As he looked up, he saw the Sect Leader of the Heavenly Gate flying backward in a perfect parabolic arc.
His internal organs already injured, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Yet with a single deep breath, he brought his palms together, facing each other as if they were Flowing Clouds moving with the wind, returning in a seemingly impossible posture, rushing straight toward Su Mo.
Without reaching him, the positions of the palms smoothly transitioned, one above the other.
The palms faced each other from a distance as layers of Inner Strength swiftly converged.
And on the Sect Leader of Heavenly Gate's face, at this very moment, split into two entirely different expressions from the center.
One was stern and majestic as the heavens, the other mocking and derisive as if jeering at worldly affairs.
