The Immortal Human Quells Souls

Zhao Li threw a punch, and a faint sonic boom rang through the air. The genius from a branch of the Zhao clan, Zhao Hu, had reached the peak of Muscle Tempering. The sneer on his face froze instantly. He couldn’t understand how a weakling who had still been stuck at the “Flesh Tempering” stage yesterday could deliver such a focused, vicious blow, as if he had calculated every weak point in the flow of Zhao Hu’s qi and blood. “Pfft!” Zhao Hu was sent flying. Before he passed out, he heard Zhao Li’s indifferent murmur, which sounded like both a comment and a taunt: “Force applied at a 37-degree angle. Kinetic energy transfer loss reduced by 12 percent. Sure enough, knowledge is power.” On the high platform, Emperor Jingwu Zhao Guoli stood expressionless. Only the fingers hidden in his sleeve trembled almost imperceptibly. This son, who had been living among ordinary people for fifteen years, seemed very different from the reports he had received.