Beneath Ten Thousand Mile City, dust swirled through the air. By the time the dust had settled, Murong Qin's sword tip was already pointed at Xue Bu Hui's throat.
Xue Bu Hui stood with his back straight, gazing at the long sword before him without grief or joy.
Murong Qin withdrew the sword in her hand. Xue Bu Hui bowed and said, "The girl has won."
Murong Qin put away her sword without saying anything else and turned to leave, though she seemed somewhat unhappy.
The Demon Race World had achieved two consecutive victories, and the atmosphere once again reached its peak. The demon army kept shouting Murong Qin's name, seemingly forgetting that Murong Qin was actually human.
Xue Bu Hui merely raised his head and glanced at the horizon before turning around and returning to the city wall.
"Brother Jiang, everyone, this junior still lost and dragged you down."
Xue Bu Hui bowed to Jiang Lin and the others.
Ye Liangchen and the rest looked at one another, speechless for a moment.
Because in that final move, they had all seen Xue Bu Hui's Confucian Saint Dharma Idol disperse, while Murong Qin's long sword had driven straight in, breaking through Xue Bu Hui's Righteous Qi with ease before pointing at his throat.
To be honest, if that had not been holding back, no one would believe it.
But Jiang Lin did not see it that way.
At the final moment, Xue Bu Hui's Confucian Saint Dharma Idol had dispersed, but it was not because he had held back.
Rather, Xue Bu Hui had developed a doubt in his heart—or perhaps he had sensed something.
In other words, at the most crucial moment, Xue Bu Hui had actually still been comprehending the Dao. That had caused his Righteous Qi to