Looking at the shocking cracks on the Haotian Hammer.
In an instant.
The middle-aged man was stunned. He stood stiffly in place, his hands still in the position of swinging the hammer, his eyes wide open as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.
His Clear Sky Hammer, the weapon he was proud of, the martial spirit that had brought him countless victories and glory.
Unexpectedly, the other party caught it with his bare hands, and crushed it so easily that cracks appeared all over it, just like crushing a clay doll.
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