For a moment, shouts and clamor rose on all sides, and the faces of the Seven Friends of Tianman all showed anger and resentment. If Lin Xuan himself had not been a Lihe Realm cultivator, they would certainly have already taken out their treasures and blasted him to death first.
"Amitabha." A hint of mockery appeared on the long-browed Old Monk's face. "Fellow Daoist, saying such words, don't you think you are being far too arrogant?"
The Old Monk had already swept the area nearby with his divine sense. Within a thousand li, there were no other cultivators. In other words, Lin Xuan was utterly alone.
One against seven—his guts were certainly fat enough.
Lin Xuan sighed. "I spoke politely only because I did not wish to clash with you fellow Daoists. Since everyone is stubbornly refusing to see reason, then Lin will have no choice but to offend you."
Before his words had fallen, he flicked his sleeve, and several dozen streaks of sword light swam out like fish. They swelled in the wind, and in the blink of an eye were several feet long, stabbing madly toward the other side like a sudden storm.
The Seven Friends of Tianman were all furious. The other party was simply too arrogant.
Could his brain have gone bad?
Couldn't he see there was a Lihe Realm cultivator on their side as well?
One against seven—did he really think he had any chance of winning?
For a time, curses and angry shouts rose everywhere. Those several Nascent Soul Realm cultivators each took out defensive treasures. No matter what, the other party's cultivation was far higher than their own; first they had to endure this wave of attacks.
In an instant, brilliant lights flared, and all kinds of multicolored barriers and shields appeared