The longsword instantly pierced Ye Xiwen's skull, boring straight through it. Yet it was not over. Ye Xiwen suddenly snapped his eyes open, astonishing light bursting from them as he slapped out with one palm.
Boom!
The void trembled, and a vast stretch of space collapsed. A figure was struck by Ye Xiwen's palm, its body nearly torn into four pieces as blood sprayed without stop.
Cough, cough, cough! That figure staggered backward, continuously coughing blood. Ye Xiwen's strike had pierced through him in an instant as well.
Bang!
With a tremendous roar, the longsword that had pierced through Ye Xiwen's forehead shattered in an instant, turning into iron filings that scattered in every direction.
The horrifying bloody hole in his head was healing at an astonishing speed, though his face had gone much paler. His battle with the Battle Emperor had consumed a considerable amount of his vital energy, and before he had fully recovered, he had suffered another heavy blow. He had nearly truly been destroyed in body and Primordial Spirit by that single sword strike.
It was simply deadly.
That sword strike had been truly terrifying. Even if Ye Xiwen had not been at his absolute peak then, his aura had already climbed to its zenith. Ordinary assassins would have been scared to death just by seeing it, much less dared to attack. That alone showed how extraordinary this person was.
When Ye Xiwen's aura had risen to its peak, it had not actually been the best time to strike. The so-called tide of destiny was when, despite not being in one's best state, many things that seemed impossible could be accomplished once the momentum was there. When one's momentum rose, one could often do what others could not.
Yet he had still attacked. Such courage was