The knuckles retained the rough, gritty feel of blue brick powder.
Qin Lie slowly relaxed his fist, and the surging power beneath his skin receded like a retreating tide, leaving behind the aching aftertaste of over-stretched tendons and bones. He lowered his gaze to stare at the distinct fingerprint on the floor. Its edges were smooth, as if it had been stamped not by flesh and blood, but branded by a red-hot iron rod. The power of pure physicality, bearing the barbarous imprint of the dragon-elephant, had taken root in this vessel once ravaged by virulent poison and crippled cultivation.
Done.
Chapter 57