"Hmph, did you think this old man's methods were truly so simple? After blocking this old man's attack, you still dared to boast?"
Faced with the attack Mo Tian had unleashed, the nameless old man showed not the slightest abnormality. As he spoke, his figure suddenly dodged away at an inconceivable angle.
A streak of black light flashed past, shooting across a fading afterimage.
The old man's speed in evading seemed to be even slightly superior to Qin Fengming's Profound Sky Evasive Steps.
As the old man dodged away, he urged his divine sense, and the black blade unexpectedly split apart with a bang, transforming into dozens of tiny flying needles. With a flash, they escaped the restraints of that massive energy.
These flying needles were far sharper than the original blade. Amid piercing hisses, they swept toward Mo Tian's body.
Faced with this sudden turn of events, even Mo Tian, despite being a clone of a Mahayana cultivator from the Upper Realm, suddenly changed expression.
In all his tens of thousands of years of cultivation, he had never encountered flying needles capable of escaping from beneath his restrictive secret art.
By the time Mo Tian tried to dodge, it was already too late. The incantations within his body surged, fully activating his defensive secret art, while his figure abruptly dodged to the side.
"Hmph, you're still a little short of hurting someone from the Holy Realm."
Just as Mo Tian found himself in peril, a calm voice suddenly rang out. A sound of something tearing through the air followed immediately after.
Amid a rapid series of collisions, the dozens of black flying needles attacking Mo Tian were unexpectedly swept into a mass of densely packed, sand-like objects radiating a cold, dusky purple light.
Blocked by this mass of purple-glowing