Claiming the Throne of Gods, Starting from the Rebirth of Nezha

The two were already within reach when Nezha stretched out his hand and grabbed Jinzha’s wrist.

The muscles on his forearm bulged, veins pulsing. At this moment, unless Jinzha decisively severed his arm, there was no way he could break free from Nezha’s grip.

"Nezha, how dare you!" Jinzha’s arm ached, and his complexion changed dramatically.

"I’ll make you disown your mother!"

Nezha punched Jinzha in the face. A burst of golden light appeared on Jinzha’s face, resisting Nezha’s flying fist. However, in less than a second, the golden light shattered into a rain of light, and the next moment, the proud nose bridge of Jinzha was flattened by the punch!

"Nezha, fellow cultivator, let’s talk this out!"

Nezha remained silent, only throwing punches.

"Ah——"

"Third brother!"

"Ah——, don’t hit the face!"