Anyone who could rank among the top ten of Seven Springs Hall in combat prowess not only possessed extraordinary talent and formidable strength, but surely also had a magical artifact at their side.
Magical artifacts were also part of one's strength.
Xue Zheng was naturally no exception. The four-foot ring-hilt saber in his hand was a low-grade magical artifact bestowed upon him when the Yang Clan recruited him.
Thanks to this magical artifact's protection, even after being struck by the lightning released by the Black Iron Seal, he had not completely lost his combat power. Lying on the ground with his saber raised in guard, he stared fixedly at Li Weiyi, who approached with sword in hand, his eyes filled with the desperate will to fight to the death.
Li Weiyi wanted to step forward and deal him a fatal blow.
But an arrow fired by Murong Xiao came flying from afar.
"Youngster, the debt you owe the Changlin Gang will be collected by this old man personally."
Tang Yan, deputy leader of the Changlin Gang, spoke in a drawn-out voice from deep within the dense forest.
The terrifying force aura of a Five Seas Realm expert sent fallen leaves throughout the forest flying up. Like surging waves, they rushed forward with his advancing figure. Imbued with magical power, the leaves became like flying blades and struck into the tree bark.
"Your strength isn't bad. Once I break through another realm, I'll use you to test my sword."
After tossing these words at Xue Zheng, Li Weiyi immediately sheathed his sword and fled south.
A moment later.
He transformed into a cloud of pitch-black Nether Mist and sped away amid the ringing of bells.
Xue Zheng's heart eased, and he let out a long breath. It had been far too