Ethan’s punch was like High Mountain—majestic and unyielding, unshaken by storms, crushing all before it.
While his own punches were nothing more than flailing hands.
"Boom!"
A loud sound echoed.
Lincoln’s body was suddenly sent flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing ten meters away and hitting the ground hard.
He coughed up blood, staining the earth beneath him.
Lincoln lay dazed, quickly crawling to Ethan’s feet, spitting blood as he pleaded: “Mr. Wang, I admit defeat. Please don’t kill me."
Everyone fell silent.
Just moments ago, Grandmaster Lincoln had been so proud and arrogant, but now he was on his knees, begging pitifully.
The contrast was so stark, no one could accept it.
They couldn’t even fathom how Lincoln, one of Crimson’s five great masters, could lose to
