Suddenly, the dozen or so Martial Artists charging at Ling Xiao all froze in place.
It was as if something had bound them; they couldn't move, their whole bodies went numb and paralyzed.
Only then did Ling Xiao slowly walk toward them, an indifferent expression surfacing on his face.
"Not good, this guy is too strong. His force can actually bind our movements. This guy is at least a First Transformation, Twelfth-Level Hell Late Stage Cultivation Martial Artist!"
Someone with a bit of sense finally spoke up.
One of the bound Martial Artists remembered his Master once saying that to bind an opponent's movements with pure force, your Inner strength had to be at least two minor Realms stronger than theirs.
They were all Martial Artists with Twelfth-Level Hell Early Stage Cultivation, so wouldn't Ling Xiao's Cultivation Level be at the very least Twelfth-Level Hell Late Stage?
How could they possibly afford to provoke someone like that?
Hearing this, everyone was stunned.
