From the moment Lin Xuan struck to the instant he wiped out the five of them, only a breath had passed. It could be called as smooth as drifting clouds and flowing water, without the slightest sign of obstruction.
The grandfather and granddaughter stared until their jaws nearly dropped. The formidable enemies who had almost sent them to their deaths were, in Senior Lin's hands, like figures molded from mud and pasted from paper—utterly at his mercy.
The gap between the two sides was so vast that words could hardly describe it.
Though they had guessed he was strong, they had never imagined he would be strong to such a degree.
It could no longer be described as looking up to him. To them, he was practically no different from a deity; with a twitch of his finger, he could erase them into nothingness.
Thinking of this, the grandfather and granddaughter exchanged a glance, and both saw the fear in each other's eyes.
Although they had already decided to offer up the Ten-Thousand-Year Spirit Milk, one look at him told them he was a ruthless figure. Whether he would let the matter drop was still hard to say. What if he wanted to kill them to silence them?
As that thought flashed through their minds, the grandfather and granddaughter both shuddered in alarm. But now that things had reached this point, what could they do?
Fight? They could not beat him.
Run? The outcome would be the same.
Now that matters had come this far, they could only sit and wait for death—or rather, gamble on their own luck.
Though their hearts trembled violently, when Lin Xuan turned his head, they still had no choice but to desperately squeeze out smiles. Many high-level cultivators had extremely strange tempers. Perhaps a