A streak of sword light descended from the sky curtain to the mortal world, straight as a line.
Yet the old coachman stood there like a wooden statue, his heroic spirit soaring to the clouds. He planted his feet and took the sword light head-on, raising both hands to catch it by force.
At least, that was how it looked to Liu Jia, the old Nascent Soul guarding the alley. He was instantly filled with admiration. Who would have thought such a hero, strong enough to uproot mountains and rivers, was hidden in the Great Li Capital City? He would have to invite him for a drink sometime.
The next instant, the old coachman was driven more than a dozen miles beneath the Great Li Capital City by that single strike. A pit the size of a well appeared in the street. The sword light had been so sharp that not a single crack marked the ground around it.
But to Chen Ping'an, it was hardly that simple. As soon as the vortex appeared in the sky curtain, the old coachman had begun working a divine ability that turned his body into a city of colored glass, a Daoist arena assembled from thousands upon thousands of pieces. Like Feng Yi, this old man had chosen to hide in plain sight at court. He had no intention whatsoever of taking the sword light head-on.
At the same time, the old coachman cast a sidelong glance toward the Central Prefecture. Clearly, he was waiting for sword light to flash from there and meet sword with sword. But for some reason, Great Li's White Jade Capital imitation seemed blind to it. An Ascension Realm Sword Immortal had plainly struck, and it was doing nothing?!
The instant that sword light fell from the vortex,