With a cold shout, Leng Qingshuang erupted with an intense aura intertwined with black and blood-red, and the black sword was stained with a layer of scarlet.
Her gaze turned cold and sinister. The clarity once in her eyes had been replaced by nothing but bloodlust and indifference.
With a backhand slash, she drove the sword straight through the woman's phantom, carrying demonic energy capable of destroying heaven and earth.
The blood mist dispersed, and the woman's scream resounded through the barrier.
Leng Qingshuang stood with her sword planted before her, her white robes stained in blood and demonic energy swirling around her. She had completely fallen onto the demonic path.
She raised her head toward the barrier's exit, a cold, bloodthirsty smile curling across her lips.
The instant Leng Qingshuang stepped out of the barrier, the You Ming chill lingering on her fingertips had yet to fade. The bloodstained hem of her white robes swept over the mud of the Sword Tomb, stirring a faint trace of gloom.
She had suppressed her aura to the utmost, like still water in a deep pool. The passing disciples merely felt that this senior sister looked grave and solemn, never noticing the turbid demonic aura churning beneath that calm.
It was a dark force utterly opposed to the pure immortal aura of the Eastern Divine Palace, carrying the icy sharpness of one who could tread through You Ming.
Hua Qiang did not turn around, yet he had already sensed her arrival. His voice was calm and unruffled, but it carried a force that pierced straight into the heart.
"Have you entered the demonic path?"
As those four words fell, Leng Qingshuang's shoulders trembled faintly, but she offered no defense.
She lifted her eyes toward Hua Qiang's back. It stood tall and straight