Lin Xuan's choice had not been wrong. It could even be said to have come just in time, because almost the instant Lin Xuan vanished into the horizon, two shrill whistles came from far to near and reached their ears.
Demon Light flashed, and two figures appeared almost simultaneously where he had just been standing. The same face, the same gloomy expression—if one had to point out a difference, it was only the color of the clothes they wore.
Needless to say, they were naturally the other two great incarnations of the Mysterious Youth.
A boat overturned in a gutter!
They had never imagined that their companion would be wiped out by the other party in a few swift moves.
Although among the three great incarnations, the Black-Robed Youth was the main one, and the other two were much weaker, by rights, they were absolutely not something a mere Spirit Division Stage cultivator could deal with. Taking ten thousand steps back, even if he could not win, protecting himself should not have been a problem.
Yet while that thought was not wrong, reality was cruel. How could Lin Xuan be measured by the standards of ordinary cultivators? He might not be able to defeat the Mysterious Youth himself, but merely one separated incarnation...
With no pressure at all, Lin Xuan had cleanly and efficiently sent him to the Underworld.
The other two great incarnations had wanted to rescue him, but it was already too late.
Several dozen zhang away, Tian Xiaojian and the Heaven Origin Saint Ancestor stood on either side, their expressions shifting between cloudy and clear. Tian Xiaojian was still all right. In the earlier struggle, though he had been hard-pressed to cope, he had at least not suffered too much. There was not a single wound on