Just the second move, and the ancient coffin elder was already showing signs of defeat.
Dugu Changkong's face remained indifferent, not even blinking, as if such events were too mundane to stir him.
Within the barrier, a faint golden light flickered in the eyes of Chen Qingyuan and Wu Junyan, their minds replaying the scene of Dugu Changkong's strike repeatedly.
The true essence and Dao rhythm of the Eight-Part Dragon Palm were imprinted on their souls.
