The first exchange was a sensory clash: the real fight was about to begin.
Aomu's style was like that of an animal, although he could have chosen to use his human form while in the public eye, he didn't. He was strongest when his bared his fangs!
Zhou Chen’s response on the other hand was iron-tempered. He did not meet speed with speed; he met pressure with absorption. His hands moved to receive the blows of his opponent, palms flattened in the Iron Palm habit to take the force and redirect the arc.
"Bloodbind Stalker!"
Aomu then unleashed a technique, a burst of crimson qi suddenly erupted from his datian area and coalesced into spidery threads, seeking to lacerate and hold Zhou Chen in place. The threads shot forward like thrown needles, heading in Zhou Chen's direction with immense
