Not a Shred of Hope

The silver sword light was unimaginably fast, piercing through the black flood dragon, piercing through Mo Panchen's Body Protection Spiritual Light, and sinking straight into his chest.

Mo Panchen's Face Greatly Changed. He lowered his head and looked at the bloody hole in his chest as black blood gushed out in streams.

He Opened Mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came out.

The Soul-Severing Lock fell from the sky, all its spiritual light gone. His body froze in the air, the light in his eyes swiftly scattering, and The Entire Person plummeted from the sky.

Li Chengjie's strike with the Immortal-Slaying Sword had nearly exhausted all his spiritual power.

He hovered in the air, gasping heavily, the spiritual light of the Blazing Heaven Wings dim, the blue-purple radiance behind him flickering uncertainly.

He lowered his head and looked at the falling Mo Panchen, yet there was not the slightest bit of ease in his heart.

Mo Panchen was not dead.

He had sensed it. Mo Panchen's aura was still there. Though faint, he was still alive.

Sure enough, while Mo Panchen was falling through mid-air, he Stabilized his body and struggled to fly back up.

He lowered his head and looked at the bloody hole in his chest. His Face as Pale as Paper, black blood still flowing, but the wound had already stopped spreading.

He took a pitch-black pill from his Storage Bag and swallowed it. The wound began to heal, but the speed of healing was very slow.

Mo Panchen raised his head and looked at Li Chengjie, his eyes filled with Killing Intent and wariness. He had not expected Li Chengjie to still be able to unleash such a sharp, fierce blow. That sword strike had nearly taken his life.

"What an Immortal-Slaying Sword," Mo