Only the faint hiss of the Black Fog battling the pale golden power of laws deep within Feng Qingyao's chest wound, along with the slightly heavy breathing of the two of them, broke the desolate silence in the cabin.
Shen Yi's gaze involuntarily fell once more upon the bronze longsword floating above Feng Qingyao's palm. Its radiance had now completely withdrawn, leaving it ancient and unadorned. In the dim light, the eight characters on its blade lay quietly branded there.
That final, world-destroying scene from his memories—the terrifying sword aura that seemed capable of ending everything, followed by the entire Black Fog of the Boundary Land erupting in an attempt to devour all things... With such terrifying power and devastation, how had Feng Qingyao not only survived, but also successfully brought the culprit behind it all out from the deepest part of the Boundary Land?
This was no longer merely illogical. To Shen Yi, it sounded downright absurd.
In his view, given the formidable strength Feng Qingyao had displayed, she might have barely managed to preserve her core existence from being utterly erased by the first wave of devastation. But to approach, seize control of, and take away that sword amid such a desperate situation—while enduring the endless erosion of the Black Fog's origin and the aftershocks of that terrifying sword aura—was likely countless times harder than simply escaping alive.
After a moment of silence, Shen Yi ultimately could not suppress his curiosity and asked,
"Then how did you bring this sword back?" Obvious doubt colored his voice.
"In that situation, with the sword aura unleashed by that sword and the Black Fog raging around it, could you really have done it in your condition?"
"Or was it..."
Shen Yi did not continue, but his meaning was already obvious.
In