Baiyu exerted five layers of strength.
The old Daoist was struck hard by the condensed golden giant palm and was sent flying, crashing into the wall of the great hall.
His body scattered black water like mud, dripping onto the ground of the great hall.
Baiyu took a deep breath.
The old Daoist's strength was much weaker than he had anticipated, to the point of being vulnerable and defenseless.
The old Daoist lay on the ground, coughing up a few mouthfuls of black blood, a hint of clarity returning to his blood-red eyes: "You... sir, thank you, I didn't expect you to come, I hope I didn't hurt you?"
For a moment.
The murderous intent that was once solidified, aiming to directly end the life of the old Daoist, made Baiyu hesitate again.
Baiyu asked in a deep voice, "Are you pretending to be crazy again?"
