What was that wave of pressure?! A sonic boom?!

Cries of alarm filled the air as Han Qingyu used the force from being flung to adjust his angle and altitude, narrowly avoiding a direct hit from the pillar sword.

The sheer force of the Sharpie’s swing through the air still slammed into his chest like a physical blow. The surge of source energy inside him was in its weakened ebb after the last wave had crashed and hadn’t recovered in time for him to tank the hit.

As Qi Shantong had said, directing the flow, tempo, and timing of the surge was the same as controlling life and death on the battlefield. However, Han Qingyu had only gotten his armor fewer than twenty days ago and was still green.

Han Qingyu took the hit in midair. Blood spewed from his mouth. His body arced backward before...