In front of Ye Dun, blood palms burst out and terrible blood awns broke out. However, the blood awns could not touch Ye Dun in the slightest. They all turned into nihility and completely disappeared.

A masked woman, dressed in white, stood in front of Ye Dun. She stretched out a jade hand with a light blooming in the palm, which easily crushed the blood palm.

"Who are you?" Han Feng spits out a cold pronunciation, killing more intensely in his eyes.

However, the white woman did not answer, still standing there, the breeze gently brushed, blowing her snow-like hair, aesthetic, but vague, as proud as the painting.

Han Feng...