Reminded by Oriental Tianyan, Song Yan did not evade it, instead, he rushed to the sky with a sword to face the huge real hand.

"Boom!"

"Bang!"

At the next moment, Zhenqi's palms collapsed and Song Yan's figure flew backwards and landed on the ground.

"Whoop!"

Song Yan, who has just climbed up, spits out a mouthful of blood.

"Not dead yet!"

Seeing Song Yan was only injured, Chen Yuanshan's face grew more somber.

"Take another seat to cover the sun!"

A bigger genuine pneumatic palm appeared over Song Yan's head. For a moment, the space around him was condensed, almost making him unable to move a finger.

"Palm, please...