Who knew it had gotten carried away with excitement... Ah! With a splash, it fell into a small puddle, truly confirming what it had once said: "I do not roost unless it is a parasol tree." Sure enough, no good came of it the moment it landed.
Yet it jumped out of the puddle like a drenched chicken, shook its feathers, and still cried out energetically, "Phoenix Cloud Robe, Phoenix Cloud Robe..."
What was this Phoenix Cloud Robe? Yan Zhuixing eyed the hopping crow suspiciously. To be honest, he rather admired the crow—it had actually survived one of his demonic punches. Looking again at the great bird flapping its seven-colored nebula wings, Wu Lixue seemed about to spread her wings and fly toward the eternal stars of the universe.
"Let's see whether your Phoenix Cloud Robe is formidable, or my Demonic Blade is." Yan Zhuixing sneered. A gloomy crescent moon flashed forth and hovered behind him, swaying faintly and stirring the air around it. A bloody cold gleam flowed across the curved blade, while the ancient dark demonic patterns upon it likewise gave off an ancient, weathered aura. The pressure made the crow beside the puddle tremble, staring at that cold and merciless crescent in terror.
At Yan Zhuixing's cold gaze, the crescent behind him immediately transformed into an arc of light and shot out like frigid lightning. There was not the slightest sound; it came so abruptly that not even the air stirred. In the blink of an eye, it was already slicing toward the proud neck of the seven-colored bird. At that very instant, a pair of Dreamy Star Wings folded together before it, silently blocking the crescent.
The crescent sank into the nebula and struggled, as though it had plunged into a ball of cotton—powerful, yet with