Taking a Golden Core

The young sword cultivator had not yet recovered from his shock when the old sword cultivator had already withdrawn his Fist Stance. He stood there with easy grace, one hand behind his back, stroking his beard with the other as he smiled smugly. "My Sword Qi is truly invincible."

The young sword cultivator stood dumbfounded for a long while. This stretch of battlefield had already been cleared out, and some Demon Race members in the distance, sensing that things had gone awry, fled around it toward other places. Though most had yet to develop intelligence, they still knew danger from safety.

The old sword cultivator swept his gaze across the battlefield. Several low-realm Demon Race Cultivators had been pulverized together with their weapons, bodies, and souls, leaving nothing behind. What a pity.

Next time, he needed to hold back a little. Even a mosquito's leg was still meat.

The young sword cultivator flew to the old sword cultivator's side. "Senior?"

The old sword cultivator's voice was hoarse. Stroking his beard, he smiled. "Just call me Sword Immortal senior. I am not that old. I cannot bear the word 'old,' I cannot."

The young sword cultivator was left speechless in astonishment.

The old sword cultivator was already traveling afar on his sword. His longsword skimmed close to the ground as he swiftly bored through enemy formations, like a fish weaving through water weeds. He only unleashed flying swords at Demon Race Cultivators: killing those he could kill and wounding those he could wound.

Moreover, he chose his moments to strike with impeccable precision, never delaying the Sword Qi Great Wall's sword cultivators from drawing their swords.

The young sword cultivator glanced at the figure and sword strikes of that "Sword Immortal senior." Unable to discern his realm or the depth of