Ji'an didn't aim for his body. She aimed directly for the ultimate symbol of his martial pride.
She swung the cast-iron soup ladle in a devastating, horizontal arc, aiming straight for the heavy black shaft of the Azure Dragon's Fang.
Ji'an yelled, channeling every single ounce of her stored, vibrating Dao of the Iron Wok power into her right arm.
The air around the ladle warped, screaming as the compressed mass tore through the atmosphere.
General Lin's combat instincts, honed over decades of warfare, screamed at him to block.
He brought the heavy shaft of his halberd up, bracing it with both hands, locking his stance to absorb the impact of the kitchen utensil.
KRA-KOOM!
The collision did not sound like metal striking metal. It sounded like a meteor impacting a mountainside.
